Issue No. 68

The "Ship of Theseus" is a philosophical paradox that explores the nature of identity and continuity over time. The story goes like this:

In ancient Greece, a revered figure named Theseus, believed to have founded Athens and known for his naval exploits, had his ship enshrined in the city's port as a memorial. Over the centuries, the ship, known as the "Ship of Theseus," endured. As time passed, some of its original wooden planks decayed. To preserve the integrity of the ship, these decaying planks were systematically replaced with new ones crafted from identical material, one by one, over a long period of time. The paradox then asks: Is it still the same ship?

This paradox prompts deeper questions about identity:

1. If every part of the ship has been replaced, is it still fundamentally the same ship? Or is it a new ship altogether?

2. What defines the Ship of Theseus as the Ship of Theseus? Is it the physical material it's made of, its shape, its function, or its historical significance?

3. Can something persist through change? If so, what defines that persistence?

I appreciate philosophical questions like the Theseus paradox because they extend beyond the physical world to encompass personal identity, the nature of objects, and the concept of change itself, which is central to metaphysical inquiries about the self. These questions challenge our intuitions about what defines continuity over time and invite us to consider the role of context, perception, and essence in shaping identity.

Now, consider this story in relation to yourself. Over time, your cells are replaced. They die and are replaced by new cells. It's estimated that every seven years, nearly all cells in your body have regenerated, except for neurons in your brain which enter a post-mitotic stage where they can no longer divide or replicate. Every seven years, you essentially become a new biological individual. Does that mean you're an entirely different person?

In my opinion, what defines "us" is not solely our physical bodies but our beliefs. How we define ourselves to the outside world is through our appearance and actions because no one can see what happens internally, in our minds. Sometimes we overestimate ourselves, thinking we're superior to others; other times, we underestimate ourselves. Remember when other people said your hair is just fine but you believe it’s not. Your belief shaped your reality when the outside world doesn’t see the way you see. In the end, what others thought did not matter. You still believed your hair is weird. The truth is, others think similarly—they also fluctuate between feelings of superiority and inferiority. So, which perception is more accurate? The external judgments or our own self-assessment?

The Ship of Theseus teaches us that objects—or living beings like us humans—are not defined solely by their outward appearance. Rather, they are defined by the meaning we attribute to them or the beliefs we hold about ourselves.

For example, a cup originally designed to hold and pour liquids can become something else if we change our belief about its purpose. It could transform into a pencil holder or a brush holder. Does it cease to be a cup? If you say yes, at what exact point did it stop being a cup? Did it stop when we removed its handle? But wait, some cups don't have handles. So, it's still a cup. Did it stop being a cup when we used it to hold pencils instead of coffee or water? What a weird question when lunchbox is still called a lunchbox without lunch in it. I once asked my 6th grade classmate if my lunchbox is still a lunchbox if I put my breakfast in it. He did not talk to me for the rest of that faithful day. Furthermore, did the cup stop being a cup when we stopped calling it a cup? Does it have an inherent right to be defined as it is? What defines it as a cup? Is it merely its appearance? What criteria determine an object's identity, and how do we know if others perceive it the same way? These questions lead to a complex exploration, not a paradox, but a fundamental inquiry into the nature of identity and perception.

In the case of a cup repurposed as a pencil holder, its essence as a cup isn't solely determined by its physical form or original purpose, but by the intention and perception of the observer. If one person sees it as a cup and another as a pencil holder, both perspectives are valid within their contexts. The cup didn't change its reality—it's the observer who defines its purpose. This fluidity challenges our tendency to rigidly categorize objects and encourages us to acknowledge that identity can be fluid and subjective.

To illustrate, imagine a blind person encountering a cup for the first time. This individual has never touched a cup before and thus lacks preconceived notions about its purpose. However, based on previous experiences with similar objects like bowls, they might naturally interpret it as something used for a similar function. In this instance, the blind person's beliefs dictate the cup's purpose. Ultimately, perception of reality is shaped by personal beliefs.

Similarly, our identity isn't solely determined by our physical appearance or occupation, but by our beliefs, values, and the meanings we assign to our existence. The Ship of Theseus not only teaches us about objects but also about the nature of identity itself. It encourages us to reflect on the fluidity of perception and the significance of perspective in shaping our understanding of the world. Ultimately, it reminds us that what defines something—whether it's a cup, a person, or any other label—is not a fixed set of criteria, but a dynamic interplay of perception, intention, and belief.

I remember an episode from Marvel’s WandaVision series. Wanda is a powerful witch in this universe and Vision is a carbon-based synthezoid (fancy way of saying android or human-like AI) created from Ironman’s technology. Wanda and Vision entered a romantic relationship during the course of the Saga.

In the Infinity War film, Vision was killed by Thanos when he took the Mind Stone from his forehead which powers his mental circuits.

When Vision died, Wanda suffered a terrible depressive episode. Her grief led her to unintentionally recreating him physically using her reality-bending spells. We’ll call this version of Vision, the Red Vision.

However, little did she know that the government seized the physical body of the original Vision and reanimated it using the same material but different mind. They called it the White Vision.

In one episode, both Red Vision and White Vision faced each other. Both questioned each other about who the true original Vision is. They ponder whether it’s Red Vision, who possesses the memories but not the physical composition of the original Vision, or White Vision, who retains the physical composition but lacks the memories. Ultimately, they both concluded that they are both the original Vision, as they each believe themselves to be.

In this episode I learned even further that your beliefs really do influence who you are.

“Wait a damn minute, does that mean I can be anyone I want to be as long as I believe in it? I want to be a millionaire, I identify as a millionaire. Am I a millionaire? I was born a male, I identify now as a female. Am I a female? How about the crazy lunatics who think killing people for the sake of their religion or beliefs? Are they right?” No, because believing something doesn't automatically make it true or morally justified. Identity and beliefs are complex issues that involve personal understanding and societal norms. While personal identity can be influenced by beliefs and self-perception, societal and objective realities also play crucial roles. You can believe whatever you want to believe yourself to be but you will be tested and limited by the outside world. Even the universe is not infinite. It sits on a medium. You think your freedom has no limit? A freedom without limit is chaos. Go let your child think whatever he thinks he wants to eat for dinner and observe the chaos that ensues. Just because we have established that your belief defines your identity, doesn’t mean all beliefs must become your identity. You have a brain, use it for good.

The relationship between identity and belief are so tight that they influence each other.

Identity influencing belief: One's identity, which includes aspects such as cultural background, social environment, personal experiences, and values, can shape their beliefs. For example, someone who identifies strongly with a particular religious or cultural group may adopt beliefs that are common within that group.

Belief influencing identity: Conversely, beliefs that a person holds can also shape their identity. For instance, someone who strongly believes in certain political ideologies or ethical principles may incorporate these beliefs into their self-concept and identity.

Our entire being is defined by these two phenomena. Some of our self-proclaimed identity is predefined even before birth. This is identity influencing belief. As we grow older, we learn that we can influence our identity by believing something else. Both can be true at the same time.

So, why ponder these questions? Why invest time in contemplating something that cannot be definitively answered? The reason lies in the fact that the question of identity is the most fundamental inquiry of all. It's a question our ancestors dedicated their lives to exploring.

However, I believe our ancestors approached this question from an external standpoint. The quest isn't about discovering absolute truths or universal answers. Instead, it's about the journey of self-exploration and understanding. By questioning the nature of identity and perception, we delve into the essence of what it means to be human. We can never attain 100% certainty, and that's the essence—to continuously learn and evolve our beliefs.

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Until next week,