Throughout the history of mankind, three little words have sent poets to the blank page, philosophers to the Agora, and seekers to the oracles: "Who am I?" From the ancient Greek aphorism inscribed on the Temple of Apollo, "Know thyself," to The Who's rock anthem, "Who Are You?" philosophers, psychologists, academics, scientists, artists, theologians and politicians have all tackled the subject of identity. Their hypotheses are widely varied and lack significant consensus. These are smart, creative people, so what's so hard about coming up with the right answer? One challenge certainly lies with the complex concept of the persistence of identity. Which you is who? The person you are today? Five years ago? Who you'll be in 50 years? And when is "am"? This week? Today? This hour? This second? And which aspect of you is "I"? Are you your physical body? Your thoughts and feelings? Your actions? These murky waters of abstract logic are tricky to navigate, and so it's probably fitting that to demonstrate the complexity, the Greek historian Plutarch used the story of a ship. How are you "I"? As the tale goes, Theseus, the mythical founder King of Athens, single-handedly slayed the evil Minotaur at Crete, then returned home on a ship. To honor this heroic feat, for 1000 years Athenians painstakingly maintained his ship in the harbor, and annually reenacted his voyage. Whenever a part of the ship was worn or damaged, it was replaced with an identical piece of the same material until, at some point, no original parts remained. Plutarch noted the Ship of Theseus was an example of the philosophical paradox revolving around the persistence of identity. How can every single part of something be replaced, yet it still remains the same thing? Let's imagine there are two ships: the ship that Theseus docked in Athens, Ship A, and the ship sailed by the Athenians 1000 years later, Ship B. Very simply, our question is this: does A equal B? Some would say that for 1000 years there has been only one Ship of Theseus, and because the changes made to it happened gradually, it never at any point in time stopped being the legendary ship. Though they have absolutely no parts in common, the two ships are numerically identical, meaning one and the same, so A equals B. However, others could argue that Theseus never set foot on Ship B, and his presence on the ship is an essential qualitative property of the Ship of Theseus. It cannot survive without him. So, though the two ships are numerically identical, they are not qualitatively identical. Thus, A does not equal B. But what happens when we consider this twist? What if, as each piece of the original ship was cast off, somebody collected them all, and rebuilt the entire original ship? When it was finished, undeniably two physical ships would exist: the one that's docked in Athens, and the one in some guy's backyard. Each could lay claim to the title, "The Ship of Theseus," but only would could actually be the real thing. So which one is it, and more importantly, what does this have to do with you? Like the Ship of Theseus, you are a collection of constantly changing parts: your physical body, mind, emotions, circumstances, and even your quirks, always changing, but still in an amazing and sometimes illogical way, you stay the same, too. This is one of the reasons that the question, "Who am I?" is so complex. And in order to answer it, like so many great minds before you, you must be willing to dive into the bottomless ocean of philosophical paradox. Or maybe you could just answer, "I am a legendary hero sailing a powerful ship on an epic journey." That could work, too.
Skozi zgodovino človeštva so tri besede gnale pesnike pred list papirja, filozofe v Agoro in iskalce v orakelj: "Kdo sem jaz?" Od antičnega grškega aforizma iz Apolonovega templja, "Spoznaj samega sebe", do rockovske himne "Kdo si" skupine The Who filozofi, psihologi, akademiki, znanstveniki, umetniki, teologi in politiki raziskujejo vprašanje identitete. Hipoteze so različne in manjka jim konsenz. Gre za pametne, kreativne ljudi, zakaj je potem tako težko najti pravi odgovor? Eden od izzivov je povezan z zapleteno idejo trajne identitete. Kateri "ti" je kdo? Tisto, kar si danes? Pred petimi leti? Kar boš čez 50 let? In kdaj je "sem"? Ta teden? Danes? To uro? To sekundo? In kateri del tebe je "jaz"? Tvoje fizično telo? Tvoje misli in čustva? Tvoja dejanja? Te kalne vode abstraktne logike je težko prepluti, zato verjetno ni čudno, da je za ilustracijo te zapletenosti grški zgodovinar Plutarh uporabil zgodbo o ladji. V čem je tvoj "jaz"? Zgodba pravi, da je kralj Tezej, mitski ustanovitelj Aten, lastnoročno pokončal zlobnega Minotavra na Kreti in se z ladjo vrnil domov. Da bi obeležili to herojsko dejanje, so Atenci tisoč let skrbno ohranjali njegovo ladjo v luki ter vsako leto uprizorili njegovo pot. Ko se je del ladje izrabil ali poškodoval, so ga zamenjali z enakim delom iz istega materiala, tako da so sčasoma nadomestili vse dele ladje. Plutarh je menil, da je Tezejeva ladja primer filozofskega paradoksa, povezanega s trajno identiteto. Kako lahko zamenjamo vse dele nečesa, pa bo to v celoti še vedno ista stvar? Predstavljajmo si dve ladji: ladjo A, s katero je Tezej pristal v Atenah, in ladjo, s katero so Atenci pluli tisoč let kasneje, ladjo B. Enostavno vprašanje: je ladja A enaka ladji B? Nekateri menijo, da je vseh tisoč let obstajala le ena ladja, in ker so bile spremembe na njej postopne, nikoli ni nehala biti legendarna ladja. Čeprav nimata skupnega niti enega dela, sta ladji numerično enaki, gre za eno in isto ladjo, torej je A enako B. Drugi trdijo, da Tezej nikoli ni stopil na ladjo B, njegova prisotnost na ladji pa je bistvena lastnost Tezejeve ladje. Brez njega ne obstaja. Čeprav sta obe ladji numerično enaki, sta kakovostno neenaki. Torej A ni enako B. Kaj se zgodi, če upoštevamo ta preskok? Kaj če bi originalne dele ladje nekdo zbiral in potem nazaj sestavil celotno prvotno ladjo? Potem bi brez dvoma obstajali dve ladji: tista, privezana v Atenah, in tale na dvorišču nekega tipa. Obe bi se lahko imenovali Tezejeva ladja, a samo ena bi bila prava. Katera? In še pomembneje: kaj ima to opraviti s teboj? Kot Tezejeva ladja si celota stalno spreminjajočih se delov: fizičnega telesa, uma, čustev, okoliščin, celo svojih posebnosti, se vedno spreminjaš, a vseeno na čudovit in včasih nelogičen način tudi ostajaš enak. Tudi zato je vprašanje "Kdo sem jaz?" tako zapleteno. Da bi odgovoril nanj, se moraš, kot mnogi veleumi pred teboj, biti pripravljen spustiti v neskončni ocean filozofskih paradoksov. Lahko pa odgovoriš tudi takole: "Sem legendarni junak, ki močno ladjo vodi na epsko potovanje." Tudi to bi delovalo.