2-52: Plank by Plank
On Identity, Continuity, and Death
My grandmother, quite literally on her death bed, says to my mother before they both go to sleep, “If my eyes are still closed in the morning, don’t wake me up because I’m trying to die.” Knowing my grandmother, she said it gently and matter-of-fact. A small part of her knows that her speaking literally like this brings a certain levity to the moment. Considering her passing made me think that until the final moment she retained the dignity of being the same person she always was, literally and figuratively. I get the feeling that all of us may not have that same dignity.
I have been wrestling with how to comprehend death, especially watching her approach it so directly. In the new age we are entering, death feels further away each day as AI advances. After processing the acceptance that she showed that night, the solution to this wrestling became clear to me. Death knocked gently and this time she opened the door willingly, inviting him in. This acceptance echoes in my comprehension of what will one day be my own death.
The deliberation of how to define death in this new world has, until now, eluded me. I always find myself circling back to the Ship of Theseus. I have concluded that when the ship returns to shore after having replaced all of the planks, it is a different ship. If it is a different ship, then the original no longer exists.
If identity depends on continuity rather than components, then the gradual replacement of every part eventually breaks that continuity. This logic allows me to sleep soundly knowing that even if I do end up “living forever” in a sense that my mind is uploaded to the cloud, or if I get an entirely new and younger body to accompany my aging mind, I will still “meet death” one day.
If what continues resembles me, thinks like me, and believes it is me, but continuity is broken, then it is not me who is continuing but someone new entirely. This day will arrive gradually, once my body no longer resembles its original self and once enough of me has been replaced that continuity can no longer honestly be claimed. Until that day comes, I will continue to live each day to the fullest while accepting that I, too, will one day welcome death when he knocks.