Re: Your Brains

[blimix]

When I was a kid, I used to imagine this: What if, every time I fleetingly wished to be someone else (for I never seriously wished to be), it actually happened? Neither of us would ever know, because once I became them, I'd be where they are, in their body and with all of their memories. And whoever became me (because someone has to be me, though I hardly bothered myself with who, how or why) would think that they had always been me, occasionally making these silly wishes that (they thought) never came true.

This led naturally to the question of what defines identity. What could it possibly mean for me (my "self" or "identity") to physically become another person, if there's no actual change in the world? The very fact that the event of the wish coming true is indistinguishable from the wish not coming true, even to those involved, was very revealing! It led naturally to the idea that the distinction between our selves, other people and the rest of the universe is an artificial one. This was at least a decade before I was exposed to the same concept in Zen Buddhism. (Is it a generally Buddhist concept, or limited to Zen?)

(There is, in these thoughts, an inherent rejection of dualism. I could never bring myself to believe in a magical spirit that was my "essence" or "soul," which somehow interacted with my brain despite not being part of the physical universe (i.e., not really existing). I hope I haven't offended any dualists in the audience.)

Comments

[supernovanugget.livejournal.com]

as i was cleaning my room the other day i came upon a journal i had for class. elementary or middle school. i said quite simply. "i really dont like when people judge other people or put people down. its just not cool."

[kirin]

One could also conclude that the "self" *is* a collection of memories and neural pathways. By that definitions, putting one's self into another body makes no sense unless you can swap brains.

It leads to the same rejection of dualism, but perhaps from a slightly different angle.

The thought experiment also highlights the question of whether you actually want to *be* that person, including their personality and so on, or merely want to inhabit their current set of circumstances. Does one want to really "Be Like Mike(tm)" in every possible way, or just be tall and really really good at basketball? Of course, being good at basketball involves mental as well as physical prowess, which just raises more questions. To what extent could one artificially tweak ones own mental capacities without losing the sense of "self"? Is there a total limit, or is it just a question of continuity, so you could do almost anything in small enough increments?

Someday we may have the opportunity to find out, and won't that be interesting.

...I think I need a "transhumanist" icon. Maybe I should just steal that girl from Dresden Kodak.

[blimix.livejournal.com]

One could also conclude that the "self" *is* a collection of memories and neural pathways.

... and patterns therein. (I tend to see consciousness as plot and characters, to the brain's paper and ink.)

Just to clarify, my thought experiment doesn't lead to a rejection of dualism: It assumes a rejection of dualism. If one were to introduce dualism* into the experiment, then the transfer of my soul to another body would have measurable repurcussions. The whole "indistinguishable" bit and its conclusion would vanish.

* A variety of dualism in which the soul and the body are capable of mutual interaction.

To what extent could one artificially tweak ones own mental capacities without losing the sense of "self"?

Eep. That looks isomorphic to the "tree falling in a forest" question, in that the answer consists entirely of defining the scope of a certain word in the question. "Sound" in that case; "losing," "sense" or "self" in this case. No matter how far one changes, one has a sense of self, so you could say it is never lost. But if you mean precisely my current sense of self, then tomorrow, having grown and learned a bit, I will have lost it. These are, of course, the trivial examples at the either end of the scope of the idea. My point here is that an answer to your question will tell you how the speaker perceives the phrase "losing the sense of self," but will tell you nothing whatsoever about whether you're still you if you change.

Personally, since we're changing all the time anyway, I don't think we can limit identities by the quantity of change. There are qualities that can define me, however. The biggest of those, when they have changed or been introduced, have made me feel like a changed person.

[kirin]

(Coming back to this after being out of town and then woefully behind on everything for days.)

I think most of what you say is true, but I think many people *would* put limits on what amount of changes they can undergo and maintain their sense of self, though what they are will vary from person to person. If you asked someone whether they were "the same person" as they were yesterday, the vast majority would say yes. If you ask an adult the same question about when they were six years old, I bet some will say yes and some will say no. If you ask the question of someone who's had severe head trauma that wiped out most of their memories, I bet many would say no. (I'm sure there's interesting psych papers on the latter case to be had somewhere...)

I guess my only point here is that it doesn't seem unreasonable to me to wonder to what extent *I* could deliberately change my own brain and maintain a continuous sense of self, were the technology available.

(That is, the technology to do it instantly and purposefully. To do it slowly is, as you more or less point out, usually called "personal growth".)