What Makes You ‘You’? Continuity of the story of Identity

Introduction

What makes you who you are? Is it your physical body, your mind, or something else altogether? The age-old question of identity has been explored through various thought experiments, from the Ship of Theseus to more modern takes involving teleportation and digital clones. These scenarios force us to question the very nature of existence and what it means to continue being the same person.

In the teleportation thought experiment, a glitch in the system brings this question to the forefront. If your mind can be digitally copied and your body disintegrated, only to be reconstructed elsewhere, who are you really? What happens when something goes wrong? The tension between identity and continuity suddenly becomes palpable.

I. Teleportation and the Glitch: A Break in the Chain

Imagine you’re standing in a teleportation booth, as you’ve done many times before. The process is simple: your cognitive identity is copied, your physical body is disintegrated, and a new body, based on that cognitive identity, is reconstructed at your destination. It’s seamless—until one day, a glitch occurs.

You’re still standing in the original teleportation booth, but across the world, your copy has already emerged. This revelation sparks panic. The manager explains that, due to a software error, your body wasn’t disintegrated, though your cognitive identity has reached its destination. He shows you a video of “you” walking out of the booth in New York, carrying on as though nothing happened.

Now, facing the prospect of manual disintegration, you suddenly feel as if you’re about to die. But why? You’ve been through this process countless times without hesitation. What has changed?

II. Identity, Continuity, and the Story of Self

The key to this puzzle lies in the concept of continuity. Nishant’s insight transforms our understanding of why the glitch feels so disturbing: it’s the continuity of your story that defines your identity. As long as your cognitive identity flows uninterrupted, you experience life as a single, continuous self.

In this scenario, the glitch creates a branching of your story. There are now two versions of you: one still standing in the original booth, and one in New York, each living out a different narrative. Up until this point, the teleportation process had always maintained the illusion of continuity. But now, with the branching of your storyline, your subjective experience diverges. For the version of “you” left behind, disintegration no longer feels like part of an ongoing process—it feels like death, because your personal narrative would come to an abrupt end.

III. The Ship of Theseus: A Parallel in Identity

The teleportation thought experiment mirrors the philosophical problem known as the Ship of Theseus. The ancient paradox asks: if a ship’s components are gradually replaced, one piece at a time, is it still the same ship? If all the original parts are used to build a new ship, which is the true Ship of Theseus—the one made from the new parts, or the reconstructed one using the old parts?

Nishant’s insight into the continuity of identity applies here. The original Ship of Theseus, with all its parts replaced, remains the same because its story has continued without interruption. However, the new ship, built from the old parts, represents something entirely different. It carries a fresh narrative, separate from the original.

We can consider this newly assembled ship as a copy of the original, rather than the original itself. It’s born anew, despite being made from old parts. The identity of the original Ship of Theseus lies not in its physical components but in the continuous, unbroken story of its existence. The copy, despite its physical resemblance, does not share that story.

IV. The Role of Cognitive Identity

This exploration leads us to the pivotal role of cognitive identity in maintaining our sense of self. In the context of teleportation, it’s not the physical body that holds significance—rather, it’s the continuity of your cognitive identity. As long as your personal narrative unfolds without interruption, you can perceive yourself as the same individual.

In this scenario, both you in New York and you at the original booth share a common narrative up until the moment of the glitch. After that point, each version embarks on its own independent storyline, flowing uninterrupted in their respective realities. The glitch itself doesn’t fracture the essence of your identity; rather, it creates a branching of two distinct narratives.

However, the impending manual disintegration poses a different threat. It would sever the continuity for the version left behind, creating a definitive break in that cognitive narrative. This act transforms the disintegration into a true form of death for the original you, as it would permanently disrupt the ongoing story that constitutes your identity, leaving the version in New York as the only one to carry on.

V. Identity as Narrative

This brings us to a profound realization: identity is not simply a matter of physical or mental continuity but a narrative that weaves together our experiences, memories, and choices. As long as this narrative flows uninterrupted, we feel like the same person.

But once a branching occurs—once our personal story diverges into multiple paths—we become different selves, each with its own identity. The you in New York is no longer the same you in the original teleportation booth. Even though both versions share the same cognitive identity up to a point, the divergence in experience means they are now distinct beings.

This concept also aligns with the Ship of Theseus paradox: as long as the ship’s story remains intact, even if its parts are replaced, it remains the same ship. The moment a new story begins—whether through a glitch in teleportation or a ship built from old parts—a new identity is born.

Conclusion: The Fragile Thread of Identity

Ultimately, identity is not a fixed state of being but an ongoing process, a fragile thread woven through time. Our sense of self is deeply tied to the continuity of our personal narrative. When that thread is cut, we call it dying.

This exploration encourages us to embrace the fluidity of identity and the power of storytelling. Rather than viewing identity as a fixed point, we can recognize it as a journey—a continuous process of becoming. In doing so, we invite a deeper understanding of ourselves and others, celebrating the intricate stories that bind us all together in this shared human experience.

As you navigate this journey, consider crafting a beautiful narrative filled with love, accomplishments, and inner peace.