Eight years ago, I began researching the Digital Twin for Health. I wasn’t a doctor, and in the medical world, that was enough to be dismissed outright. I wasn’t invited into the room—I had to break in. I had to study more, understand more, work harder. But what felt like a disadvantage at the time turned out to be my biggest strength: I wasn’t conditioned to follow a pre-formatted path. I had a completely different lens.

I come from the world of supercomputing, algorithmic modelling, and what is now called AI. My mindset is statistical, not clinical. My language is made of graphs, probabilities, data streams—not pain, symptoms, or bedside manner. When I look at a patient, I don’t see a story of suffering. I see a dynamic system, a pattern waiting to be decoded.

And here’s where the absurdity starts:
In modern medicine, the most important part of diagnosing a sick patient is the anamnesis—a word that, in Greek, literally means “recollection.”
Think about it. We are asking human beings—often scared, sick, or confused—to accurately remember events from six months ago. From a mathematical point of view, that’s sheer madness. That’s not healthcare. That’s rolling dice in the dark.

So I flipped the script: What if we collect the data before the illness?
That way, when something happens, we already have the full picture. No guessing, no memory games.
This turns the anamnesis from a retrospective tool into a predictive system.
Simple logic, right? But logic often terrifies systems that thrive on tradition. And the medical world—let’s be blunt—is still very much a tradition.

Doctors often feel threatened by this. They think the Digital Twin is here to replace them.
That’s not only wrong—it’s the opposite of the truth. The Digital Twin frees the doctor from repetitive, low-value tasks. It allows them to be faster, sharper, and more accurate. It’s an invisible assistant that works 24/7, never sleeps, never forgets.

And here’s my “sin”: I’m a lazy tech guy. I build systems that let me work less, earn more, and help more people. The Digital Twin lets me do exactly that. It reduces effort, increases accuracy, and most importantly, scales care.
Not only does it make the doctor’s life easier—it restores fairness to the system.
The sick patient wants to be healed—possibly for free.
But the healthy person? They have a clear financial interest in staying healthy. They’ll pay anything to not get sick.

And yet, many in healthcare still refuse to see it.
Why cling to a blurry black-and-white film when we now have a crystal-clear image in colour?
Why resist a system that works better, faster, and fairer—for everyone?

The Digital Twin is not the future.
It’s already here.
It doesn’t need a passport.
It just needs brave minds and long-term vision.

Sergio d’Arpa