Fast Company - April 2012

amara Mena was 19 years old when she dismissed all hope of ever walking again. Mena was living in San Diego and working toward a degree in hotel management when she and her boyfriend Patrick decided to hit the clubs in Rosarito Beach, just across the Mexican border. Since they didn’t want to risk drinking and driving, they took a cab. They never made it to Mexico. T

About 2 miles from their destination, their vehicle slammed into a horse. The impact launched the animal into the air; it landed on top of the cab, crushed the roof to seat level, and killed Patrick and the driver instantly. Mena was paralyzed from the midchest down.

“I wanted to walk,” she says. Graced with tawny hair, high cheekbones, and chocolate-brown eyes, Mena, now 25, is a picture of youthful vitality if you overlook the tracheotomy scar where medics inserted a tube to oxygenate her collapsed lungs after the accident. “I looked into walking with braces, but they sucked the energy right out of me. I met with a doctor about stem-cell treatments, but that was costly and there was no guarantee. I gave up. I had to move on.” Six years after that fateful night, in a nondescript warehouse in Berkeley, California, she is moving on—using her own two legs. She stands on the linoleum floor, supporting herself with a pair of crutches, an expression of quiet determination on her face. The lower two-thirds of her body are enclosed in an aluminum frame attached by Velcro straps to her ankles, calves, thighs, hips, and chest. A physical therapist stands behind her, one hand grasping a handle on the contraption’s rear panel, the other holding a control panel. Each time the therapist presses a button, small electrical motors at the frame’s joints move in a motion that replicates the action of corresponding muscles—one of Mena’s hips swings ahead, the associated knee rises, the foot lifts and then falls to the floor, and she takes a precious step forward.

Mena is a test pilot for Ekso Bionics, a front-
runner in robotic exoskeleton technology, which
can replace or augment human capabilities. Led
by Icelandic CEO Eythor Bender, the company
has licensed its technology to Lockheed Martin
for military use and sold its initial medical prod-
uct, the Ekso, to rehabilitation centers through-
out the U.S. Bender says the medical market is
just the beginning. He envisions robotic frames
for industrial workers, like miners, dockers, and
construction workers. He imagines that each of
pricey gewgaw. He will need to outdistance com-
petitors, some of whom already have products
on the market. Finally, he must persuade the
FDA and the insurance industry that paralyzed
people need to walk, a proposition that’s con-
troversial even among paraplegics.

EXOSKELETONS, SAYS EKSO BIONICS CEO BENDER,
WILL BE “THE JEANS OF THE FUTURE,”
STREAMLINED ENOUGH TO WEAR IN ECONOMY CLASS.

us will want an exoskeleton: “the REI Ekso,” recreational outerwear that confers superhuman strength and endurance.

“We’re starting with soldiers and paralyzed people because their needs are great and the opportunity for funding is better,” Bender says. “But you can imagine exoskeletons for workers using tools too heavy to hold for more than a few minutes. And a consumer version for people who want to run a marathon or climb Mount Kilimanjaro.” Exoskeletons, he dreams, will be “the jeans of the future”—practical, fashionable, and streamlined enough to wear in economy class.

First, though, he must get past obstacles that
have derailed many a medical-device company.
He must convince rehabilitation therapists and
wheelchair users that the Ekso is more than a
eye and hug someone while you’re standing up.
I had forgotten what that felt like. Once you re-
member, it’s hard to go back to a wheelchair.”

Ekso Bionics’ staff has ballooned from 23 to 68 in the past year, and its Berkeley facility is fit to burst. Past the cramped reception area (which doubles as a customer-service bullpen), it’s Santa’s robotics workshop. The 12,000-square- foot floor is a labyrinth of workbenches, storage bins, and whiteboards covered with electrical diagrams. A yellow gantry—basically a 35-foot girder on trestles—cuts across the floor to protect test pilots like Mena against falling.