Who Do You Think You Are?
Relations, Subjectivity, and the Identity
of Persons
David Banach
St. Anselm College
There are two ways of being lost:
(1) You can have no map and be ignorant of the lay of the land around you. (2) You
can also be lost even though you have a perfect map and detailed knowledge of
the layout of the surroundings. You can be unaware of where on the map you
are, uncertain as to where, on your objective picture of the surroundings, you are located. (Hence, there are
usually little arrows on most public maps saying "You are here."
)
As Charles Taylor (Taylor 1989) has
pointed out, these two ways of being lost reflect two different problems of
personal identity: what I will call the problems of objective identity and
subjective identity. The problem of objective identity (having no map) is the
problem of forming an adequate objective conception of oneself. Most of the
traditional literature on personal identity deals with this problem, proposing
various of our attributes, such as memory, the state of the brain, or the soul
as providing adequate objective accounts of our identity over time. Popular
statements about "finding oneself" also deal with this problem: What
is wanted is an adequate objective account of who one is that will make sense
of one's situation. This is not the problem that I will deal with in this
paper. In fact, I will argue that it is impossible to give an adequate
objective account of identity.
This paper deals with the problem of
subjective identity (not knowing where on the map you are). I will be
considering cases in which, even though one has an adequate objective
conception of the world, one can be at a loss as to which of the persons in
this objective picture is you. You
and five other people put you hands in a pile in the center of the table, and,
looking at the mass of hands in the center of the table, you wonder "which
of those hands is mine?" You
are at the department store with your family, and you see the tops of your
heads in the security video camera and ask "Which of those heads is me?" In this paper I will consider
the problem of subjective identity and the problems it raises for our general
understanding of personal identity as well as the implications it has for our
understanding of objectivity and of the role of objective identity.
In particular, I will argue for
three distinct theses: (1) Narrow Thesis:
There can be no adequate objective account of personal identity. That is, there
is more to identity than objective identity. Subjective identity cannot be
reduced to any objective account. (2) Broad
Thesis: A necessary component of personal identity (and, indeed, of any
type of identity) is perspective (where perspective is defined as the total
concrete set of relations an object has to its environment). The perspective or
set of concrete relations which defines identity is not reducible to the
objectively conceived content of those relationships. (3) Very Broad Thesis: An understanding of the notion of subjective
identity and the related notion of perspective has important implications for
our understanding of objectivity and subjectivity, as well as for our views of
objective identity and the relative precedence of essence and existence and
their roles in the determination of our identity. In particular, I will argue
that a correct understanding of the roles of essence and perspective in
determining identity will reveal (a) that there are fundamental problems in
standard accounts of objectivity, in particular those explained most clearly by
Thomas Nagel (1974, 1979, 1986), and (b) that, in different ways, it is correct
to say both that essence precedes existence and that existence precedes essence
in the determination of identity.
Before I begin, I should explain the
meanings I will attach to two of the key terms in the above theses. I will be
using the term objective in a
non-standard way. Since one of my theses is that Nagel's account of objectivity
is mistaken, I will argue for this new usage later. The term objective in the narrow thesis is to be
understood as including any of the
possible objects or contents of our experience described in terms of qualities
or properties, whether they be physical and public, internal and private, or
immaterial. I will also use the term essence
in a non-standard way to refer to some set of these properties or qualities
that is taken to define the identity of a thing. Hence, essence, in my usage,
will refer to an account of the objective identity of a thing.
In order to understand the main
thesis that perspective, and not merely essence or objective identity, is a
necessary component of identity, we need to consider exactly what is meant by perspective in this context. By the
perspective of a thing, I mean the unique set of concrete relations to the
objects that comprise that thing's environment. A spatial metaphor may make
this clearer. A point in space is defined by the set of spatial relations it
has to all other points and objects in its environment. If the only relations
to be considered are spatial, then we can call this set of relations to all
other objects the perspective of that point. Note that the point is defined by
its perspective, or set of relations, not by its content, or what occupies that
point. This metaphor is useful in visualizing the distinction I intend to draw
between the perspective of a thing (the unique set of concrete relations the
thing bears to all other objects) and its essence (the set of objectively
conceived properties that describe each of these relations and through which we
describe the object). Understood in this way, my thesis might be restated as
the claim that the identity of a thing is not defined merely by a set of
objective properties, but also by the concrete set of relations that the object
has to all other things, and that this set of relations, the perspective, is
not reducible to any set of properties that the object has.
I will begin my consideration of the
problem of subjective identity by looking at some contemporary arguments
against the possibility of giving an objective account of identity. I will
consider arguments by Daniel Dennett, Derek Parfit, and John Perry along with
an argument of my own. I will then look at Thomas Nagel's analysis of the
problem of subjective identity and his notion of the objective self and
contrast it to the solution that I propose.
I
Can There Be an Objective Account of
Identity?
The arguments that follow involve
cases where the identity of a person seems to be independent of any of the
objectively describable properties that can be ascribed to the person.[1] The thought experiments I will consider
by Daniel Dennett, Derek Parfit, and John Perry were not originally intended to
address the problem of subjective identity. Hence, while the examples are
theirs, the arguments that I will attach to them should not be attributed to
these thinkers.[2]
Daniel
Dennett's "Where am I?": (Dennett 1978)
Part 1: Where am I and Where did I go?: Our identity is tied to our particular
perspective on the world, but this is only accidentally connected with any of
our objective features.
Dennett describes a fictional
situation where he must go underground in Oklahoma to retrieve a warhead which
gives off radiation which is deadly to the brain, but which is harmless to
other parts of the body. It is decided that he must leave his brain behind. His
brain is removed, placed in a vat in Houston, and fitted with thousands of tiny
radio transmitters which maintain the connections of his brain to his nervous
system. He still is able to perceive through his senses and control his body.
The increased time lapse caused by the greater distance between his brain and
his body is only noticeable when he engages in activities that require great
hand-eye coordination, such as hitting a baseball. The first question that
occurs to him is "Where am I, in the vat where my brain is, or where my
body is?" He finds it most natural to imagine himself as located where his
body and its point of view are located. He even points out that if he were to
locate himself where his brain is, his body would be able to commit crimes with
impunity. They could imprison his brain, but his body would still enjoy
freedom. At last he (his body) travels to Oklahoma and heads underground to
retrieve the warhead. As he is working he suddenly loses his hearing. Something
is going wrong with the radio links between his brain and his body. His voice
and control of his muscles fail as well, and then his eyesight disappears too.
He is stuck, deaf, dumb, and blind, underground in Oklahoma. But then, as the
last of the radio links to his body is severed, he finds that he is back in
Houston, a disembodied brain. Dennett uses this amazing transfer to provide a
(tongue in cheek) argument for the immateriality of the soul. Instantaneously,
he went from being deaf, dumb, and blind in Oklahoma to being disembodied in
Houston. No material entity made this trip, hence whatever it is that moved
from Oklahoma to Houston must be an immaterial thing.
There
are three separate morals that can be drawn from this story: (a) Our identity
is tied to the particular perspective from which we perceive and are related to
the world, not the content of those perceptions. Dennett finds it most natural
to identify himself as being where his body is, because that is the center of
the set of relations that defines his view of the world, not because that is
what is most closely connected with the content of his perceptions. It is his
brain that is the subject of the content of those perceptions. His body simply
determines the point of view from which he perceives the world. (b) The
connection of a perspective to any objectively describable object is only
accidental. Dennett's perspective was not necessarily tied to his body. Once
his body ceased being the center of the relations which tied him to the world,
his perspective, and his identity, switched back to his brain in Houston.
(c) Dennett's tongue in cheek argument
for the immateriality of the soul can be adapted as an argument that no objectively
describable state of affairs can define identity. Dennett's identity moved from
Oklahoma to Houston. No objectively describable object made the trip. Hence,
his identity is not determined by any objectively describable thing.
Part 2: Which one is me, and how many of us are there?: Objective features can be duplicated
without duplication of identity, and identity over time is related to
continuity of perspective.
As if the
first part of the story was not bizarre enough, Dennett wakes up from his
disembodied state to find that he has been provided with another body,
connected by radio transmitters to his brain as before. Although at first the
new body seems strange, Dennett soon gets used to it and accepts it without any
change in his identity. During a visit to his brain in the laboratory, Dennett
makes a disturbing discovery. The scientists have made an exact duplicate of
the contents of his brain on a computer. The computer is also fed the signals
that are sent, via the radio signals, from Dennett's (new) body. This copy is
so exact that it exactly duplicates, with split second synchronicity, the exact
perceptions, thoughts, feelings, decisions, and actions that Dennett's brain is
going through. In fact, the scientists have rigged up a switch which can
transfer the control of the body (now hooked up to the brain in the vat) to the
computer. Dennett flicks the switch, transferring the control of his body to
the computer. He notices no change in his feelings, perceptions, or in his
(apparent) control over his body. The computer is completely synchronized and
identical to his brain and its activities. He concludes that this spare brain
(as he calls it) is no threat to his identity and that there is still only one
Dennett. He even removes the markings on the switch that tell him whether the
brain or the computer is in control of his body. He continues, confident in his
essential Dennettness, oblivious to the real objective source of his ideas,
emotions, and actions. Dennett flicks the switch from time to time to ensure
that the brain and the computer are still in sync. Once, when he does this,
instead of the usual sameness, a new voice appears saying "THANK GOD! I
THOUGHT YOU'D NEVER FLIP THAT SWITCH! ... About two weeks ago our two brains drifted out of synch.... In
no time at all the illusion that I was in control of my body--our body--was
completely dissipated.... It's been like being carried around in a cage ...
hearing my own voice say things I didn't mean to say, watching in frustration
as my own hands performed deeds I hadn't intended." (Dennett 1978, p. 229)
Again,
there are three things to notice about this part of the story: (a) Dennett
claims that it doesn't matter to his identity which of his two brains is in
control of his body. The perspective provided by his body is the same in either
case. (b) More importantly, there are two distinct objectively describable
objects, the brain and the computer, yet there is only one Dennett. If there
can be two objectively describable objects and one identity, identity cannot be
determined by the objective entities alone. (c) the two identities diverge only
when there is a divergence of perspective. The two brains with the same
contents comprise one identity until they go out of synch. Then, even though
they retain the same memories, personality, and mind, they become different
persons as the perspectives, or sets of relations they bear to the world,
diverge.
Parfit's Star Trek
Examples: A set of common examples made famous
by Derek Parfit (Parfit 1984) make some of the key features of the second part
of Dennett's example even clearer. They show that any objectively described
entity can be duplicated. All objective properties are universal. Objectively
identical beings given diverse perspectives become different:
Imagine a
transporter that functions the way the transporters on Star Trek do. They make a complete record of the physical structure
of a body down to every detail of its subatomic structure. They then destroy
the original body, transfer the information about it to a new location, and
then reconstruct a new body, identical in every way to the old one. It is
assumed that this process leaves one's identity unchanged and that you would
still be the same person if you were transported in this manner. Parfit points
out that this intuition is undermined if the original body is not destroyed and
two identical bodies are left after the transport. He points out that if you
were transported and the machine that destroys your old body malfunctioned, the
old you would not be consoled if it were told not to worry, that a copy of you
is now on Mars with your wife, and that they were now going to destroy you, as
had been originally planned. As soon as the two identical bodies occupy
different places and their histories diverge, their identities diverge as well.
The
two morals of this story are similar to the second part of Dennett's: (a) A
problem with claiming that identity is determined by some objective set of
properties is that any such set of properties is universal. It is at least
theoretically possible that these properties could be duplicated, violating our
intuition that identity is unique, that there can only be one of us.[3] No two perspectives, or set of relations
to everything else in the world, can be identical in this way.[4] (b) Two objectively identical beings,
the two bodies, become different persons as soon as they occupy different
perspectives, that is, as soon as they take up different sets of relations to
the rest of the world.
Perry's Essential Indexical: A less bizarre example given by John
Perry (Perry 1979), in a context not directly related to personal identity,
also supports the position that identity cannot be reduced to any set of
objective properties. He argues that no objective proposition (one without an
indexical) exhausts the meaning of the word I
.
Perry
describes himself as walking in a supermarket pushing a cart. He notices a
trail of sugar on the ground. He surmises that someone has a hole in their bag
of sugar and is unknowingly making a sugar trail as they shop. Being a
good-hearted soul, Perry decides to find the offender and tell them they have a
hole in their sugar bag. He sets off, following the trail of sugar. After going
in a circle around the same aisle a number of times, Perry comes to the realize
this proposition: 'I am the one who's making a mess'. He argues that there is
no proposition without an indexical that can capture the content of the belief
he had when he stopped chasing the sugar trail. It cannot simply be the
proposition 'John Perry is making a mess' or 'The philosopher from Stanford is
making the mess', for if you were to believe these propositions you would not
check your bag of sugar unless you also believed 'I am John Perry' or 'I am the
philosopher from Stanford'.
The
moral here is straightforward. No objective description of who we are exhausts
our identity. Our identity is essentially tied to a particular perspective, and
we associate our identity with certain objective properties only because of the
habitual connection between these properties and our perspective. No
description of where we are on the objective map of the universe describes our
identity unless it includes the knowledge that "You are here, at the location specified by the objective
description." But this knowledge cannot be reduced to any objective
description; it is indexical, i.e., indexed to a particular perspective.
Who Do You Think You Are?: One last example, which again involves
a foray into the bizarre, will complete our list of arguments for the
irreducibility of subjective identity. Imagine that you are abducted by some
devious torturer and awake to find yourself incapable of viewing the world in
the normal way through your eyes and bodily senses. Instead, your only perception
is a visual view of five people lined up against a wall, each with various
wires and electrodes leading to their head. None of the people look in the
least familiar. You hear a voice which informs you that one of the people you
are viewing is you, is the body that
is keeping you alive, and has the brain in which your thoughts are taking
place. (Obviously, your captor has either erased your memory of your body, or
changed it, since none of the bodies looks familiar.) The voice further informs
you that it will be happy to provide you with any objective information about
the world you like. He will allow you to examine the bodies more closely, and
to look at records of their histories, or to examine the micro-structure of
their brains. He will give you any information you like, except any that
necessarily involves a view or perspective that is obviously connected to one
of these bodies you see. Hence you cannot see the world through your eyes or
bodily senses. The voice then asks the obvious question: "Well, who do you
think you are?" I submit that
there would be no way of telling which of these bodies you were. This is true
for the same reasons that applied in the above examples: (1) There is no
necessary connection between the view or perspective which you have (and which
defines your identity) and any objective properties. Hence you might note
correlations between events in the brain of one of the people and your
thoughts, but there is no reason to assume that this event in the brain is you,
is what has your perspective. (Your captor may have linked your brain to the
other brains as well so that they are all correlated.) (2) Any objective
features you have can be duplicated (if we assume our devious captive is clever
enough). They are universal properties. Any feature you might identify as
showing who you were might be duplicated in all of the bodies by your captor.
Of course there are various ploys
that one might try to determine who one was: (1) The action ploy: Suppose you
convince your captor to allow you to regain some measure of control over your
body. You might think you could determine who you were by seeing who moved the
way you decide to. Say you decide to move your arm. You watch, with
anticipation, to find out who you are, and, to your surprise, none of the
people move their arms, but all move their legs. There is no necessary
connection between your acts of willing and their objectively observable
result. And even if there were, your captor could reproduce these objective
results in all five bodies. It should be noted that the force of the argument
does not depend on the lack of any necessary connection between mental and
physical properties (See Nagel 1974). (Recall that I am using objective to
refer to any contents of experience, including private ones.) (2) The
subjective character ploy: Imagine that your captor allows you to hook into
(through some device) the subjective character of experience associated with
each body. You are overjoyed, thinking that you will surely be able to tell who
you are by comparing the subjective character from each body with what you
feel. To your dismay, you discover that none of the bodies has a subjective
character of experience indistinguishable from yours.[5] (Your captive has obviously altered the
way your subjective experience arises.) As if that weren’t bad enough, persons
three and four are indistinguishable. The subjective character of our
experience also involves properties that are only accidentally connected to our
perspective and which are universal and can be duplicated.
II
Solutions to the Problem of Subjective
Identity:
What Are You If Don't Know Who You Are?
The answer to the above question is,
obviously, that there is no objective set of properties that are what you are. An essential part of your
identity is your perspective, the sum total of the relations you bear to the
rest of the universe, your place in the world. The sum total of these relations
obviously has some effect on the properties that are connected with you, but it
is not reducible to these properties. Perspective determines the set of
objective properties that comprise the content of that perspective, but it is
not exhausted by that content. The way the content of each of the individual
relations that make up a perspective will be combined to make a unique subject
is not determined by their individual contents, but by the way they are
combined with the other relations that make up that perspective. Identity
necessarily involves both perspective and some set of objective properties
determined by that perspective (call these properties essence). Note that perspective necessarily involves essence, but
essence in itself is universal and cannot determine a unique individual. Hence,
a particular object requires perspective. To be is to be a perspective (among
other things).
Let us compare this solution of the
problem of subjective identity to that proposed by Thomas Nagel (Nagel 1983,
1986), one of the few philosophers to deal explicitly with the problem of
subjective identity. Nagel breaks the problem up into two questions: (1) How
can TN be me? and (2) How can I be (merely) TN? TN here refers to an objective picture of the properties that
make up Thomas Nagel; it is the component of our objective picture of the
universe that we identify with Thomas Nagel.
The first of these problems (How can
TN be me?) is closest to the problem we have been discussing. The objective
description of TN seems incomplete:
. . . how
can a particular person be me? Given a complete description of the world from
no particular point of view, including all the people in it, one of whom is
Thomas Nagel . . . something absolutely essential remains to be specified,
namely which of them I am. (Nagel 1986, p. 54)
Hence,
the first question is how can an objective set of properties be me, since it
does not and cannot contain the fact that I
am specially connected to those properties.
The second of these questions (How
can I be, merely, TN?) plays the greatest role in determining Nagel's solution
to the problem of subjective identity. It is the problem of how I, who am
capable of forming in my mind an objective picture of the world (a picture that
includes TN), be merely a small part of this picture. I am the subject of an
objective view that contains TN; how can I be
TN? This is somewhat similar to the puzzlement one might feel upon looking into
the mirror and wondering how that thing in the mirror, which is merely an
object in my consciousness, which I can make disappear by closing my eyes, can
be me.
For Nagel, the meaning of the term I in these queries is the objective
self: the subject of the centerless
conception of the universe that we form when we look at things objectively:
The
picture is this. Essentially I have no particular point of view at all, but
apprehend the world as centerless. As it happens, I ordinarily view the world
from a certain vantage point, using the eyes, the person, the daily life of TN
as a kind of window. But the experiences and the perspective of TN with which I
am directly presented are not the point of view of the true self, for the true
self has no point of view and includes in its conception of the centerless
world TN and his perspective among the contents of that world. It is this
aspect of the self which is in question when I look at the world as a whole and
ask, "How can TN be me? How can I be TN?" (Nagel 1986, p. 61)
Nagel's
solution to what I have called the problem of subjective identity is not
subjective at all. It is what he calls the objective self. It is the subject of
a view from nowhere in particular, which can contain within itself a true
objective characterization of any object, and, hence, cannot be exhausted by
any particular objective account. It is the self as the subject of general and
immaterial knowledge. The idea that the self that knows is separate from the
material self and the self that feels is one with a long and venerable history
stretching back at least to Plato, but I shall argue that it is not the
solution to the problem of subjective identity, and is, in fact, based upon a
mistaken model of objectivity.
III
Subjective and Objective
I will first deal with the objective
self as a solution to the problem of subjective identity, before I pass on to a
discussion of the very notions of objectivity and subjectivity themselves. The
first problem with Nagel's solution is that it simply does not solve the
problem: The objective self is not a self; it is too objective. While it is certainly too big to be contained in any
one objective picture of an object, it is certainly not what makes me me. It is not what makes a particular
part of my objective picture of the world the one that is me. The objective self of every person who sees things truly is
identical. The objective self is a notion of the world soul or Absolute Spirit,
not a notion of personal identity.
The second problem is that the
picture Nagel presents of the objective self is just false. There is no special
subject of our objective conceptions of the world besides ourselves. There is
no multiplicity of subjects within human experience. This view seems to be the
result of a Cartesian 'Mind's Eye' model of perception and conception. The
subject of our experience is not a perspectiveless Mind's Eye which peers from
the depths into the particular perspective and the images and ideas that
comprise our mind. To see why this is so, we need to broaden our discussion to
consider Nagel's conception of objectivity.
Nagel defines subjectivity as the
internal, the private, the personal, what it is like to be a thing. (Nagel
1974, 1979, 1986) He defines objectivity in terms of stepping outside of this
limited point of view to gather other points of view. The subjective involves
one or few points of view. The objective involves many or all (or no) point of view.
Note the diversity of points of view involved in subjectivity and objectivity.
We step outside of ourselves to view the world more truly, and, hence, the
particular perspective from which we start is inessential to the self that
knows. Note also that the “stepping outside of oneself” metaphor implies a
different subject. But this metaphor of stepping out of oneself into a
centerless point of view is not apt: Objectivity does not involve leaving one's
own point of view behind. If it did, objectivity would be impossible.[6] You can't be inside and outside yourself
at the same time. (Of course, pointing out this fact has been a favorite
argument of skeptics eager to disprove the possibility of objectivity, so
defined.) I cannot, here, provide a rigorous argument that the model of
objectivity so lucidly described by Nagel is mistaken.[7] I will, however, attempt to articulate
an alternative model.
To be a subject is to be the subject
of a set of concrete causal relations to one's environment. To be a subject is
to be the locus of a perspective. The subjective has to do with those aspects
of an object that have to do with its status as a subject. To be an object is
to be a particular content for a subject. The objective has to do with the
particular properties or qualities a thing has as the content of a particular
perspective. In the terms used earlier, the subjective has to do with
perspective and the objective with essence. What we normally try to capture in
terms of the number of perspectives taken into account is the particularity or
the generality of the objective account we have of other things (subjects).
To perceive a thing in the way Nagel
calls subjective is to perceive it through universal properties that are
determined specifically by your perspective. The reason why what Nagel calls
objectivity is taken to be connected with truth is because it involves seeing
things in terms of universal qualities that are not determined by our
perspective. We can talk about the distinction between the objective and the
subjective in a way that is relevant to knowledge without talk of stepping
outside of ourselves and without multiplying subjects needlessly. Our only
point of view is our own; from that point of view we can see objects with
varying degrees of regularity and independence of our perspective.
IV
Existence Precedes Essence and Essence
Precedes Existence
As a conclusion to this discussion,
I wish to return to the problem of objective identity (the problem of giving an
adequate objective account of our identity) to see how a better understanding
of subjective identity can affect our view of this problem as well. Of course,
the first thing to note is that it is impossible to give an adequate objective
account of our identity. The Existentialists were right to say that we are more
than our essences. Besides the objective qualities that we embody, we are a
perspective, a particular complex of relations to all that exists. They were
wrong, however, to think (if, indeed, they did) that this meant that we create
ourselves ex nihilo. A perspective
necessarily implies a content, one determined by the type of perspective
involved. To be a subject is to be a subject of relations to other things which
determine one's nature as subject. To be at a particular location in the
universe is to bear certain determinate relations to the rest of existence, and
these determinate relations determine what you are. But the relations are prior
to and irreducible to the substance that has them. Existence necessarily
involves an essence, but it is always more than just that essence.
This can be made clearer by looking
at how identity is maintained over time. Identity over time involves a continuity of perspective effected by
autonomous action. A thing is defined (partially) by a perspective that
determines the content of that thing and how it will be synthesized into one
coherent whole. As the thing changes, both its objective content and its
perspective change. The thing can be said to remain the same thing if the
determinant of its perspective in the latter stage is the synthesized objective
content of the previous stage, if its perspective (the source of its present
identity) is caused by its past essence as a whole and not by external factors
or by any single part of its past essence. The continuity of our identity is
maintained by autonomous action, in which our past self as a whole, our
essence, determines our place in the world for the next instant, our
perspective (which in turn determines what we will be at the next moment). Hence,
past essence determines present perspective (at least in things that have an
integrity over time). It seems we can have it both ways: (past) essence
precedes existence and existence precedes (present) essence. In different
senses, we both create and inherit our identity.
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Dennett,
Daniel C. 1978. "Where Am I?," in Brainstorms: Philosophical
Essays on Mind and Psychology. Bradford Books, 1978. Also in The Mind's
I. Douglas R. Hofstadter and Daniel C. Dennett editors. Bantam Books, 1981.
(The pagination of citations in the text refers to the latter edition.)
Nagel
Thomas. 1986. The View From Nowhere. Oxford University Press, 1986.
____________ 1983. "The Objective Self," in
Carl Ginet and Sydney Shoemaker (eds.) Knowledge and Mind. Oxford
University Press, 1983.
____________ 1979. "The Subjective and the
Objective," in Mortal Questions, Cambridge U. Press, 1979,
pp. 196-214.
____________ 1974. "What is it like to be a
bat?" Philosophical Review, LXXXIII (October 1974). Also in Mortal Questions,
Cambridge U. Press, 1979, pp. 165-180.
Parfit,
Derek. 1984. Reasons and Persons. Oxford University Press, 1984.
Perry,
John. 1979. "The Problem of the Essential Indexical," Nous,
13, 1979, pp. 3-21.
Rorty,
Richard. 1983. Consequences of Pragmatism. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1983.
Taylor,
Charles. 1989. Sources of the Self. Harvard University Press, 1989.
[1] Since, under normal conditions, we seldom encounter such situations, the arguments that follow involve thought experiments, often based upon seemingly outlandish premises. This is necessary to test our intuitions about whether properties that are never usually absent are part of out identity. Of course, some of these intuitions may be suspect because of the unfamiliarity and strangeness of the situation. Even if one does not find all of the arguments convincing, the examples can at least serve to sharpen our understanding of the problem of subjective identity. Ultimately, the conclusions that I shall draw from these arguments will have to stand or fall on their own.
[2] I will set off my description of their examples by indenting them from my discussion of them. These are my paraphrases of their examples, not quotes.
[3] Note that this holds for any objective property, not just for physical ones. If it is our memory or our soul that makes us who we are, and these are conceived as being exhausted by some objectively describable set of properties, then God could conceivably create another being with just those properties.
[4] This is ensured by Leibniz's principle of the identity of indiscernibles. Even if the world consisted of only a left hand and a right hand, the perspectives of the two index fingers would not be identical since they would bear different relationships to each other.
[5] One need only imagine that your captor has some way of hiding some of the subjective character of your experience from you.
[6] Consider Richard Rorty's argument against the possibility of objective knowledge:. He says in the Preface to Consequences of Pragmatism:
The latter suggestion
presupposes that there is some way of breaking out of language in order to
compare it with something else. But there is no way to think about either the
world or our purposes except by using our language. One can use language to
criticize and enlarge itself, as one can exercise one's body to develop and
strengthen and enlarge it, but one cannot see language-as-a-whole in relation
to something else to which it applies, or for which it is a means to an end.
Philosophy, the attempt to say "how language relates to the world" by
saying what makes certain sentences
true, or certain actions or attitudes good or rational, is, on this view,
impossible.
It is the impossible
attempt to step outside our skins - the traditions, linguistic and other,
within which we do our thinking and self-criticism - and compare ourselves with
something absolute. (Rorty 1983, p. xix.)
[7] Since any perspectival representation is subjective, objectivity can only be reached by stepping outside of our present perspective to broaden our view and to reduce the biasing influences of any one perspective. The aim is to reduce the perspectival nature of our representation, to get a representation that takes into account all views and is, hence, a view from nowhere in particular. That this model of objectivity is self-defeating can be seen from the following allegory:
The Amazing Objectivist Platform: Imagine a platform being built to reduce the amount of load carried by any one of its supporting beams. In order to reduce the load carried by any particular beam upon which the platform rests, the number of beams is increased. Imagine also that as each beam that is added, we whittle a little bit of wood off of all the beams, including the one we add. As more beams are added the strength of each beam is decreased, but this is OK because the portion of the load that each carries is also decreased as we add more. This lessens the load on each beam and decreases the degree to which the platform depends on each beam. The ideal limit of this process is obvious. As you add more and more beams the width of the beams and the weight supported by each will approach zero. This is an attempt to get a platform held up by so many beams that it isn't held up by anything at all.