I don’t think the question of whether you’re the same person when you wake up as when you went to sleep [..] is meaningful.
I’m content to say that, though I’d also be content to say that sufficient loss of faculties (e.g., due to a stroke while I slept) can destroy my identity, making me no longer the same person. Ultimately I consider this a question about words, not about things.
Do [your faculties] change without there being any physical change?
Well, physical change is constant in living systems, so the whole notion of “without physical change” is somewhat bewildering. But I’m not assuming the absence of any particular physical change.
I can make them as similar as I like and they will never become the same! And so it goes with people.
Sure, that’s fine. I don’t insist otherwise.
I just don’t think the condition you refer to as “being the same person” is a condition that matters. I simply don’t care whether they’re the same person or not, as long as various other conditions obtain. Same-person-ness provides no differential value on its own, over and above the sum of the value of the various attributes that it implies. I don’t see any reason to concern myself with it, and I think the degree to which you concern yourself with it here is unjustified, and the idea that there’s some objective sense in which its valuable is just goofy.
So while your doppelgänger might have the same faculties as you, it doesn’t make him the same human being as you, and, unlike you, he wasn’t the person who did X on your nth birthday, etc, and no amount of tinkering will ever make it so.
Again: so what? Why should I care? I don’t claim that your understanding of sameness is false, nor do I claim it’s meaningless, I just claim it’s valueless. OK, he’s not the same person. So what? What makes sameness important?
To turn it around: suppose I am informed right now that I’m not the same person who did X on Dave’s 9th birthday, that person died in 2012 and I’m a duplicate with all the same memories, personality, etc. I didn’t actually marry my husband, I didn’t _actually_buy my house, I’m not actually my dog’s owner, I wasn’t actually hired to do my job.
This is certainly startling, and I’d greet such a claim with skepticism, but ultimately: why in the world should I care? What difference does it make?
Perhaps that is the scenario you prefer, but, you’re quite right, I find it very odd.
Prefer to what?
So, as above, I’m informed that I’m actually a duplicate of Dave.
Do I prefer this state of affairs to the one where Dave didn’t die in 2012 and I was never created? No, not especially… I’m rather indifferent between them.
Do I prefer this state of affairs to the one where Dave died in 2012 and I was never created? Absolutely!
Do I prefer this state of affairs to the one where Dave continued to live and I was created anyway? Probably not, although the existence of two people in 2013 who map in such detailed functional ways to one person in 2012 will take some getting used to.
Similarly: I am told I’m dying, and given the option of creating such a duplicate. My preferences here seem symmetrical. That is:
Do I prefer that option to not dying and not having a duplicate? No, not especially, though the more confident I am of the duplicate’s similarity to me the more indifferent I become.
Do I prefer it to dying and not having a duplicate? Absolutely!
Do I prefer it to having a duplicate and not-dying? Probably not, though I will take some getting used to.
Which of those preferences seem odd to you? What is odd about them?
The preferences aren’t symmetrical. Discovering that you’re a duplicate involves discovering that you’ve been deceived or that you’re delusional, whereas dying is dying. From the point of view of the duplicate, what you’re saying amounts to borderline solipsism; you don’t care if any of your beliefs, memories, etc, match up with reality. You think being deluded is acceptable as long as the delusion is sufficiently complete. From your point of view, you don’t care about your survival, as long as somebody is deluded into thinking they’re you.
There’s no delusion or deception involved in any of the examples I gave.
In each example the duplicate knows it’s the duplicate, the original knows it’s the original; at no time does the duplicate believe it’s the original. The original knows it’s going to die. The duplicate does not believe that its memories reflect events that occurred to its body; it knows perfectly well that those events occurred to a different body.
Everyone in each of those examples knows everything relevant.
From your point of view, you don’t care about your survival, as long as somebody is deluded into thinking they’re you.
No, this isn’t true. There are lots of scenarios in which I would greatly prefer my survival to someone being deluded into thinking that they’re me after my death. And, as I said above, the scenarios I describe don’t involve anyone being deluded about anything; the duplicate knows perfectly well that it’s the duplicate and not the original.
If the duplicate says “I did X on my nth birthday” it’s not true since it didn’t even exist. If I claim that I met Shakespeare you can say, “But you weren’t even born!” So what does the duplicate say when I point out that it didn’t exist at that time? “I did but in a different body” (or “I was a different body”)? That implies that something has been transferred. Or does it say, “A different body did, not me”? But then it has no relationship with that body at all. Or perhaps it says, “The Original did X on their nth birthday and the Original has given me permission to carry on its legacy, so if you have a question about those events, I am the authority on them now”? It gets very difficult to call this “memory.” I suppose you could say that the duplicate doesn’t have the original’s memories but rather has knowledge of what the original did, but then in what sense is it a duplicate?
If the duplicate says “I did X on my nth birthday” it’s not true since it didn’t even exist.
Correct.
So what does the duplicate say when I point out that it didn’t exist at that time?
When talking to you, or someone who shares your attitude, my duplicate probably says something like “You’re right, of course. I’m in the habit of talking about my original’s experiences as though they’re mine, because I experience them as though they were, and both I and my original are perfectly happy talking that way and will probably keep doing so. But technically speaking you’re quite correct… I didn’t actually do X on my 9th birthday, nor did I have a 9th birthday to do anything on in the first place. Thanks for pointing that out.”
Which is closest to your last option, I suppose.
Incidentally, my duplicate likely does this in roughly the same tone of voice that an adoptive child might say analogous things when someone corrects their reference to “my parents” by claiming that no, their parents didn’t do any of that, their adoptive parents did. If you were to infer a certain hostility from that tone, you would not be incorrect.
It gets very difficult to call this “memory.”
It’s not difficult for me to call this a memory at all… it’s the original’s memory, which has been copied to and is being experienced by the duplicate. But if you’d rather come up with some special word for that to avoid confusion with a memory experienced by the same body that formed it in the first place, that’s OK with me too. (I choose not to refer to it as “knowledge of what the original did”, both because that’s unwieldy and because it ignores the experiential nature of memory,, which I value.)
but then in what sense is it a duplicate?
Sufficient similarity to the original. Which is what we typically mean when we say that X is a duplicate of Y.
“I’m in the habit of talking about my original’s experiences as though they’re mine, because I experience them as though they were” appears to be a form of delusion to me. If somebody went around pretending to be Napoleon (answering to the name Napoleon, talking about having done the things Napoleon did, etc) and answered all questions as if they were Napoleon but, when challenged, reassured you that of course they’re not Napoleon, they just have the habit of talking as if they are Napoleon because they experience life as Napoleon would, would you consider them delusional? Or does anything go as long as they’re content?
To be honest, I’m not really sure what you mean by the experience of memory. Mental imagery?
It has nothing to do with being content. If someone believes they are Napoleon, I consider them deluded, whether they are content or not. Conversely, if they don’t believe they are Napoleon, I don’t consider them deluded, whether they are content or not.
In the example you give, I would probably suspect the person of lying to me.
More generally: before I call something a delusion, I require that someone actually believe it’s true.
I’m not really sure what you mean by the experience of memory.
At this moment, you and I both know that I wrote this comment… we both have knowledge of what I did. In addition to that, I can remember writing it, and you can’t. I can have the experience of that memory; you can’t. The experience of memory isn’t the same thing as the knowledge of what I did.
Though on further consideration, I suppose I could summarize our whole discussion as about whether I am content or not… the noun, that is, not the adjective. I mostly consider myself to be content, and would be perfectly content to choose distribution networks for that content based on their functional properties.
I’m content to say that, though I’d also be content to say that sufficient loss of faculties (e.g., due to a stroke while I slept) can destroy my identity, making me no longer the same person. Ultimately I consider this a question about words, not about things.
Well, physical change is constant in living systems, so the whole notion of “without physical change” is somewhat bewildering. But I’m not assuming the absence of any particular physical change.
Sure, that’s fine. I don’t insist otherwise.
I just don’t think the condition you refer to as “being the same person” is a condition that matters. I simply don’t care whether they’re the same person or not, as long as various other conditions obtain. Same-person-ness provides no differential value on its own, over and above the sum of the value of the various attributes that it implies. I don’t see any reason to concern myself with it, and I think the degree to which you concern yourself with it here is unjustified, and the idea that there’s some objective sense in which its valuable is just goofy.
Again: so what? Why should I care? I don’t claim that your understanding of sameness is false, nor do I claim it’s meaningless, I just claim it’s valueless. OK, he’s not the same person. So what? What makes sameness important?
To turn it around: suppose I am informed right now that I’m not the same person who did X on Dave’s 9th birthday, that person died in 2012 and I’m a duplicate with all the same memories, personality, etc. I didn’t actually marry my husband, I didn’t _actually_buy my house, I’m not actually my dog’s owner, I wasn’t actually hired to do my job.
This is certainly startling, and I’d greet such a claim with skepticism, but ultimately: why in the world should I care? What difference does it make?
Prefer to what?
So, as above, I’m informed that I’m actually a duplicate of Dave.
Do I prefer this state of affairs to the one where Dave didn’t die in 2012 and I was never created? No, not especially… I’m rather indifferent between them.
Do I prefer this state of affairs to the one where Dave died in 2012 and I was never created? Absolutely!
Do I prefer this state of affairs to the one where Dave continued to live and I was created anyway? Probably not, although the existence of two people in 2013 who map in such detailed functional ways to one person in 2012 will take some getting used to.
Similarly: I am told I’m dying, and given the option of creating such a duplicate. My preferences here seem symmetrical. That is:
Do I prefer that option to not dying and not having a duplicate? No, not especially, though the more confident I am of the duplicate’s similarity to me the more indifferent I become.
Do I prefer it to dying and not having a duplicate? Absolutely!
Do I prefer it to having a duplicate and not-dying? Probably not, though I will take some getting used to.
Which of those preferences seem odd to you? What is odd about them?
The preferences aren’t symmetrical. Discovering that you’re a duplicate involves discovering that you’ve been deceived or that you’re delusional, whereas dying is dying. From the point of view of the duplicate, what you’re saying amounts to borderline solipsism; you don’t care if any of your beliefs, memories, etc, match up with reality. You think being deluded is acceptable as long as the delusion is sufficiently complete. From your point of view, you don’t care about your survival, as long as somebody is deluded into thinking they’re you.
There’s no delusion or deception involved in any of the examples I gave.
In each example the duplicate knows it’s the duplicate, the original knows it’s the original; at no time does the duplicate believe it’s the original. The original knows it’s going to die. The duplicate does not believe that its memories reflect events that occurred to its body; it knows perfectly well that those events occurred to a different body.
Everyone in each of those examples knows everything relevant.
No, this isn’t true. There are lots of scenarios in which I would greatly prefer my survival to someone being deluded into thinking that they’re me after my death. And, as I said above, the scenarios I describe don’t involve anyone being deluded about anything; the duplicate knows perfectly well that it’s the duplicate and not the original.
If the duplicate says “I did X on my nth birthday” it’s not true since it didn’t even exist. If I claim that I met Shakespeare you can say, “But you weren’t even born!” So what does the duplicate say when I point out that it didn’t exist at that time? “I did but in a different body” (or “I was a different body”)? That implies that something has been transferred. Or does it say, “A different body did, not me”? But then it has no relationship with that body at all. Or perhaps it says, “The Original did X on their nth birthday and the Original has given me permission to carry on its legacy, so if you have a question about those events, I am the authority on them now”? It gets very difficult to call this “memory.” I suppose you could say that the duplicate doesn’t have the original’s memories but rather has knowledge of what the original did, but then in what sense is it a duplicate?
Correct.
When talking to you, or someone who shares your attitude, my duplicate probably says something like “You’re right, of course. I’m in the habit of talking about my original’s experiences as though they’re mine, because I experience them as though they were, and both I and my original are perfectly happy talking that way and will probably keep doing so. But technically speaking you’re quite correct… I didn’t actually do X on my 9th birthday, nor did I have a 9th birthday to do anything on in the first place. Thanks for pointing that out.”
Which is closest to your last option, I suppose.
Incidentally, my duplicate likely does this in roughly the same tone of voice that an adoptive child might say analogous things when someone corrects their reference to “my parents” by claiming that no, their parents didn’t do any of that, their adoptive parents did. If you were to infer a certain hostility from that tone, you would not be incorrect.
It’s not difficult for me to call this a memory at all… it’s the original’s memory, which has been copied to and is being experienced by the duplicate. But if you’d rather come up with some special word for that to avoid confusion with a memory experienced by the same body that formed it in the first place, that’s OK with me too. (I choose not to refer to it as “knowledge of what the original did”, both because that’s unwieldy and because it ignores the experiential nature of memory,, which I value.)
Sufficient similarity to the original. Which is what we typically mean when we say that X is a duplicate of Y.
“I’m in the habit of talking about my original’s experiences as though they’re mine, because I experience them as though they were” appears to be a form of delusion to me. If somebody went around pretending to be Napoleon (answering to the name Napoleon, talking about having done the things Napoleon did, etc) and answered all questions as if they were Napoleon but, when challenged, reassured you that of course they’re not Napoleon, they just have the habit of talking as if they are Napoleon because they experience life as Napoleon would, would you consider them delusional? Or does anything go as long as they’re content?
To be honest, I’m not really sure what you mean by the experience of memory. Mental imagery?
It has nothing to do with being content. If someone believes they are Napoleon, I consider them deluded, whether they are content or not.
Conversely, if they don’t believe they are Napoleon, I don’t consider them deluded, whether they are content or not. In the example you give, I would probably suspect the person of lying to me.
More generally: before I call something a delusion, I require that someone actually believe it’s true.
At this moment, you and I both know that I wrote this comment… we both have knowledge of what I did.
In addition to that, I can remember writing it, and you can’t. I can have the experience of that memory; you can’t.
The experience of memory isn’t the same thing as the knowledge of what I did.
Though on further consideration, I suppose I could summarize our whole discussion as about whether I am content or not… the noun, that is, not the adjective. I mostly consider myself to be content, and would be perfectly content to choose distribution networks for that content based on their functional properties.