The Keystone of Personhood

December 4, 2003
 

In determining the essence of personality, one must look for the continuous thread that goes through a person’s life.  It is the only constant in a person, and it is the very essence that defines the person as an individual.  It is the keystone of personhood.  Without it, a person is nothing.  How can identity be defined? 

It strikes me that there is no such thing as personal identity.  It is an all-or-nothing kind of thing.  Identity is either the complete construct of a person’s physical, psychological, and social make-up over time, or it simply does not exist.  What is the thread that connects the Pete in 1986 to the Pete of today?  I do not have the same physical make-up, per se, although my appearance is strikingly similar to that of my counterpart.  The cellular structure, however, has changed.  If I had been raised and socialized differently, I would be a much different person.  A part of that is my social status, as well as how I am perceived by others.  My memories also determine my so-called identity, but in a different way.  I am, to an extent, defined by my past, the choices I have made, the things I have done, and so on.  If any one of these aspects is taken away, I become a different person.  My current self and my 1986 counterpart can be linked by memory, socialization, and physicality.

The bodily continuity theory states, in the most simple of terms, that my identity is based solely on the Pete organism.  In other words, no matter what happens to me, as long as my body lives, I live.  If my core psychology is somehow transferred to another body, the resultant person continues to be that body, while I continue to be the person in this body, albeit with a completely new set of memories, habits, and quirks.  The reasoning behind this is twofold.  First, the existence of my body has remained continuous throughout its entire life.  It always was the same body, and it always will be the same body.  Second, no matter what happens to me, if my core psychology is wiped, exchanged, or altered, I am still perceived by others as Pete, and my mental faculties will learn to adjust to the new (to them) identity.

Over the course of several years, the human body regenerates a complete set of cells.  With the exception of the brain cells (which routinely die and rarely regenerate) and the DNA structure or genetic code, there are no real physical constants.  What this means is that the only real matter I share with my 1986 counterpart is whatever remaining brain cells exist, and that number is gradually dropping.  All the other cells that make up my body have died off and regenerated.  Psychologically, however, I have remained somewhat constant.  (This means that I retain memories from 1986 and before then, as well as newer memories formed since then.)

Identity cannot exist without the physical body, nor can it exist without the mental faculties.  Dennett’s “Where Am I?” questions the nature of personal identity.  He argues that personal identity may be defined by a person’s perspective or point of view, and when the point of view changes, the identity follows.  He tries to illustrate this by asking where he is.   If, for example, my brain is in New York, but my body is in San Francisco, but they were still connected somehow, where would I be?  I would say that I am in San Francisco for as long as my body continued to function.  If my body were to die, then I would become convinced that I am really in New York, since that is where my brain resides.  But where am I?  The nature of identity is such that it is impossible to give a definite answer.

Ultimately, personal identity cannot be reduced to a singular aspect.  The body is necessary for the core psychology to function, and the psychology is necessary for the body to work, as well.  To determine who I am, I need to look at my life in its entirety and find the continuous thread that binds it all together.  It cannot be physical, because my body has changed.  None of the matter in the Pete-now organism is numerically identical to that in my 1986 counterpart.  It cannot be my psychological self, because memories and perceptions have changed over time, as well.  My 1986 counterpart probably has memories that I do not have.  Furthermore, the perception of those memories is completely different now.  How is Pete-now related to Pete-1986?  What is the keystone of personhood?  Unless there is an undiscovered aspect to the nature of humanity and identity, there is none.  Identity, it seems, is a myth.