<br><br><div><span class="gmail_quote">On 4/11/07, <b class="gmail_sendername">Lee Corbin</b> <<a href="mailto:lcorbin@rawbw.com">lcorbin@rawbw.com</a>> wrote:<br></span><br><blockquote class="gmail_quote" style="border-left: 1px solid rgb(204, 204, 204); margin: 0pt 0pt 0pt 0.8ex; padding-left: 1ex;">
Yet just because your present memories are to be tampered<br>with, future delights are not any the less appealing. Recall<br>that by agreeing to commit suicide so that your duplicate<br>frozen yesterday gets $10M, you are nonetheless looking
<br>forward to all the great things you (as your duplicate)<br>will do with the money.<br><br>What we have reached is the uncomfortable conclusion that<br>what happens to you (or happened to you) in the past is<br>every bit as worthy of anticipation as events that are
<br>scheduled to happen in your future. This demolishes any<br>rational or consistent use of *anticipation* that I have<br>ever been able to formulate. This is most unfortunate,<br>because feelings of anticipation are hardwired at a very
<br>fundamental level into our selves and our motivations.</blockquote><div><br>We could try to patch things up by saying that both memory loss and dying some time after you have been duplicated, which I agree are equivalent, constitute absolute death and are to be avoided at all costs. However, this sounds wrong, because most people wouldn't worry that much about a few minutes or a few hours of memory loss (ignoring the fear that they might have done something important during the forgotten interval). Alternatively, we could say that, indeed, we should anticipate the past as much as the future, but as you point out this runs counter to all our programming. Either solution would allow a consistent theory of personal identity, but it wouldn't feel right.
<br><br>I think the paradox comes from trying to reconcile our psychology with logic. There really is no *logical* reason why an entity should have one type of concern for past versions of itself and another type of concern for future versions of itself. That is why I think of every observer moment as a separate entity, related to its fellows not due to any absolute rules but by virtue of certain contingent facts about the evolution of our brains. Other entities may have quite different views about personal identity. If worker bees regard their queen more as self than they do themselves, are they wrong? An intelligent bee might acknowledge that alien life might exists which did not think this way, and even come up with a theory of personal identity in which the building blocks were individual observer moments, but ultimately end up declaring, "Well, I'm a bee, and this is just the way bees' brains are wired to think". Moreover, the bee would be no more inclined to rewire its brain for individuality given an understanding of the concept than you would be to rewire your brain to serve the collective.
<br><br>In a similar fashion, if you can think of an evolutionary scenario where it was adaptive to anticipate the past as much as the future, then this would be incorporated into any psychological theory of personal identity in that population. The only objective and unambiguous constant in all this would be that a scientist could still look at the individual instances / observer moments and describe how they associate.
<br><br>Stathis Papaioannou<br></div></div><br>