How Do You Define Identity and What Makes You the Person You Are

Boats play a big part in philosophy. Zeno, the Philosopher, started his life as a founder of Stoicism because of a boat accident.

One day late in the fourth century BC, the Phoenician merchant Zeno set sail on the Mediterranean Sea with a cargo full of Tyrian purple dye

On that fateful day, a day not unlike one you may have experienced, Zeno lost everything. His ship was wrecked upon the rocks; his cargo was lost to the sea.

We’re not sure what caused the wreck, but it devastated him financially, physically, and emotionally.

Zeno was, however, freed from his misfortune. Life picked him up and shook off stale tradition and his family obligations. Sure, it threw him ashore penniless and lost, but it also introduced him to philosophy. It put him on a path to greatness he could have never achieved otherwise.

But it is not this boat that I particularly want to talk about; instead, it is a story of a boat that helps show what philosophy is and asks a question that will keep you debating for hours.

Boat of Thebes

The first time this paradox appeared in print was in the writing of the Ancient Greek philosopher Plutarch. The paradox is simple; it talks about the founder King of Athens, returning from a long voyage at sea; throughout the voyage, the old decaying planks on the ship are replaced with new ones.

The old planks were simply discarded and thrown out to sea. When Theseus and his crew returned from their trip, every piece of wood had been replaced.

This leads us to the first widely debated question

Was the boat that returned the same that left, even though it was made of entirely different pieces of wood?

Taking it one step further

Later in the seventeenth century, this paradox was visited by philosopher Thomas Hobbes who took the scenario a step further.

The same story happens as above, but this time following the ship is a scavenger boat that picks up all the old pieces of wood thrown overboard and builds a ship with them.

Two ships then arrive at port, the one with Theseus and his crew and the second made out of all the wood from the original shop.

In this scenario which is Theseus’s ship?

Further, we can question what makes the ship of Theseus. Is it the parts the ship is made from and the history or something else?

Some Answers

Some people will state that Theseus goes on one ship and returns on another. That the ship he leaves on is his ship and the scavenger ship is his ship on the way back.

However, for this to be true, it would mean that Theseus changed ships during the voyage, which he never did. Instead, he stays on the same ship, his ship.

Another theory called spatiotemporal continuity (STC) states that an object has a continuous path in space and time; as long as the change is gradual and the shape and form of the object are preserved, it is the same ship.

This leads us to conclude that Theseus’s ship is the one he arrives back on, and the scavenger ship is just that, a ship made from old pieces of material.

The problem with this theory is, though, imagine we take the ship completely apart, pack it into boxes and ship it around the world before it arrives at a central destination to be put back together. It is still Theseus’s ship but has not existed in the same time and space continuum.

What this really means

As with everything in philosophy, the answer is a matter of debate, and many a good night can occur with a bottle of wine debating these things, but there is a serious side to this paradox.

This is more than a scenario about a ship. This is about identity and what makes a person who they are. Parts of ourselves change over the years; we regenerate cells several times in our lives. Yet we are still considered the same person throughout our life.

Is our identity the same because apart from a few wrinkles are structure is the same?

If that were the case, then people who lose limbs or cut their hair would fail to be the same person.

Are we the same person because of our minds and feelings, but don’t we always forget things?

How, then, are we the same person, or are we? As we grow and develop, can we truly say we are the same person we were thirty years ago?

This is the actual question in this paradox. What are your answers to it?