It’s Human Intelligence that Listens to the Heart of Things

I recently confronted the frightening truth that relying on technology over human insight, human intelligence (HUMINT), can be as life threatening to our personal health as it was to Israel’s security on October 7.  

I understood this too clearly when a doctor told me outside the operating room there was a chance my husband would not survive the procedure he was undergoing. No, he wasn’t wounded in battle – he had his chances long ago in Israeli wars and service in the reserves. No. this was from a combination of age and, dare I say, failure of the sophisticated technological tools we rely on to tell us if we are not well. A failure that reminded me of what we in Israel experienced on October 7 when technology did not withstand enemy tactics, prevent the breach of our borders, or warn our protectors of an attack in progress. 

HUMINT, a new word for me, is the intelligence gathered by humans. Spies. Agents embedded in enemy territory who supply intel on impending attacks. On October 7 we did not have HUMINT in Gaza, but we did have the tatzpitaniyot, the field observers, on our side of the border. They sit for hours, focused on screens aimed at Gaza. They observe. They study movement and tactics. They look for changes from the norm.  This they did with perfection, but their reports were ignored by their superiors.  

In our personal case, David suffered from chest pains when walking or exercising. “It’s my heart,” he said. He understood the warnings from his body, but no one really listened. Again, the field observers came to mind because they “live” in Gaza. They discover the slightest nuances of behavior that indicate danger. Like we do with our own bodies. The observers knew an attack from Gaza was imminent yet were ignored. They knew that those “trial balloons” with incendiaries and explosives were preparations for an invasion. They knew those gatherings of hundreds of Gazans along the fences were preparations for war.  They insisted an attack was coming but were ridiculed, their reports disregarded. HUMINT was ignored.

My husband insisted his chest pains were from his heart. He recognized the pain from 19 years ago when he had stents inserted. He knew. But his claims were rejected, nullified by advanced technology showing negative results for different tests that should detect heart disease.  He’s an 82-year-old man who was perhaps becoming delusional. Paranoid. Someone who does sit-ups and lifts weights every day and then goes to instruct gun owners how to shoot, is not paranoid. But he is 82. HUMINT was ignored.

 “Ah, come on. Your myocardial perfusion imaging is perfect. You have proof right here that your heart is fine!” 

This sounded like what the observers had endured:

 “Ah, come on, banot — girls. Hamas is just rattling the cage. They are deterred. Nothing to get hysterical over.”

My husband was luckier than our country. When pains became more frequent, he was finally referred to the emergency room and admitted.

The doctor on rounds the next morning read his history and listened to his heart. 

Here’s the difference. She understands HUMINT. She read his chart. She questioned. She listened carefully and intently— with kavana—to his heart. And she heard the heart’s plea for help. 

“There is a serious problem here,” she said. 

An angioplasty was scheduled. The procedure was complicated and risky but thankfully successful. Instead of suffering the cardiac arrest they said he was headed for, my husband was released after three days in ICU in time to celebrate Passover with the family.

Technology—hi-tech, computerized tests, sensors, and cameras—is not the end-all. These tools exist to assist, not replace. I pray that technology will never again overshadow HUMINT—the invaluable resource that listens to the “heart,” senses the nuances of change in the enemy, in patients, and in ourselves.

Why do we not listen to those who are in the best position to know?

Galia Miller Sprung moved to Israel from Southern California in 1970 to become a pioneer farmer and today she is a writer and editor.