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fandomhigh2016-07-11 09:09 am
endsthegame) wrote in fandomhigh2016-07-11 09:09 am
Entry tags:
Practical Philosophy, Monday
It was a fairly chipper Ender who met the students outside on the lawn today. He'd spent the weekend back on Naboo with the Valentines, and had only heard about what had happened this morning.
"So, I hear many of you might have had something of an experience last weekend," he said. "It's happened before - a weekend where everyone's minds were wiped. Memories erased, we all get reset to zero. In a sense, at least; it seems to erase memories related to our identity, but rarely touches our skills." He picked a bottle of water up off the ground. "What remains of us when our experiences are erased?" he asked.
He took a sip of his water.
"The great philosophers spent a lot of time talking about matters of personal identity," he said. "Some philosophers denote identity simply as bodily existence: you are who you are as long as you are your physical self. Of course, that brings issues of its own with it, whether it be because of the natural process of aging, or because the island turned you into another sex. Are you still yourself, when your genitals are different? I would say yes, but it's a matter of debate."
He set the bottle back down. "The second theory is that identity is a product of mental substance; that one's mind is separate from one's body, and that it is where our personhood lives. In that case, can those people you were last weekend truly be called you? They are, after all, just your skills, set in your body. They do not have the sum of your experiences, and therefor don't think like you. But they do have your skills, and so part of your mind. Could you just disassociate yourself from what your body did last weekend? Or is it more troubling?"
He eyed each student in turn. "Of course, John Locke went a step further and defined mental substance as being one's consciousness, in which case the answer is rather more clear-cut, I feel. 'If Socrates and the present mayor of Queenborough agree, they are the same person: if the same Socrates waking and sleeping do not partake of the same consciousness, Socrates waking and sleeping is not the same person.'"
"But there are many other theories. One presupposes that one's self is really one's intuition: after all, when your mind is wiped, and someone then proceeds to torture you, you'll still feel fear and apprehension, because you can intuit that torture isn't something you want happening to you. Other theories suppose that consistency is key, that every part of you that I've just mentioned must remain in a certain alignment for you to be you. And so on, and so forth."
He smiled, tapping his finger against the bottle. "But that's enough for Philosophy 101," he said. "How do you feel about it? Were you yourself last weekend? Should your actions then have consequences now? How do you define yourself, as an identity?"
"So, I hear many of you might have had something of an experience last weekend," he said. "It's happened before - a weekend where everyone's minds were wiped. Memories erased, we all get reset to zero. In a sense, at least; it seems to erase memories related to our identity, but rarely touches our skills." He picked a bottle of water up off the ground. "What remains of us when our experiences are erased?" he asked.
He took a sip of his water.
"The great philosophers spent a lot of time talking about matters of personal identity," he said. "Some philosophers denote identity simply as bodily existence: you are who you are as long as you are your physical self. Of course, that brings issues of its own with it, whether it be because of the natural process of aging, or because the island turned you into another sex. Are you still yourself, when your genitals are different? I would say yes, but it's a matter of debate."
He set the bottle back down. "The second theory is that identity is a product of mental substance; that one's mind is separate from one's body, and that it is where our personhood lives. In that case, can those people you were last weekend truly be called you? They are, after all, just your skills, set in your body. They do not have the sum of your experiences, and therefor don't think like you. But they do have your skills, and so part of your mind. Could you just disassociate yourself from what your body did last weekend? Or is it more troubling?"
He eyed each student in turn. "Of course, John Locke went a step further and defined mental substance as being one's consciousness, in which case the answer is rather more clear-cut, I feel. 'If Socrates and the present mayor of Queenborough agree, they are the same person: if the same Socrates waking and sleeping do not partake of the same consciousness, Socrates waking and sleeping is not the same person.'"
"But there are many other theories. One presupposes that one's self is really one's intuition: after all, when your mind is wiped, and someone then proceeds to torture you, you'll still feel fear and apprehension, because you can intuit that torture isn't something you want happening to you. Other theories suppose that consistency is key, that every part of you that I've just mentioned must remain in a certain alignment for you to be you. And so on, and so forth."
He smiled, tapping his finger against the bottle. "But that's enough for Philosophy 101," he said. "How do you feel about it? Were you yourself last weekend? Should your actions then have consequences now? How do you define yourself, as an identity?"
Re: Talk.
"It makes sense," she decided. "Gems come into being completely cognizant of their surroundings. Even without memories, we can function, since we wouldn't be much use to Homeworld if we had a larval stage like so many organic species seem to. We need to be able to step into our roles as soon as possible. Personality and experience come with time, but a Gem tends to have some understanding of their purpose, or at least an instinctive leaning toward it, from the very beginning."
Re: Talk.
God only knew how he managed to ask that question with a straight face.
Re: Talk.
"Before they attacked me, I just wanted to learn," she said, finally. "I was fascinated by the view of the stars, full of constellations I'd never seen before. I wanted to understand them, document them. And then the gremlins came along and they offered a better opportunity. I could make use of them in my efforts to understand the island. They seemed willing to assist in my research, all I needed to do was keep them fed."
Re: Talk.
Re: Talk.
"We aren't like humans, who just seem to create other humans without really considering what they might go on to do with themselves," she explained. "When new Gems are made, it's because Homeworld has anticipated a need to fill specific roles. I was made to be a scientist; a technician and certified Kindergartener." There was a sort of weight to that word that suggested that she was not talking about early education, really. "I can't imagine existing without having something to study or develop. I wouldn't exist if not to do those."
Re: Talk.
Re: Talk.
"I... I don't know if anything else should," she settled on.
Re: Talk.
Re: Talk.
Re: Talk.
Re: Talk.
"I can't see how having no memory of my function and no idea what my job even is would make me in any way better," she replied, shaking her head. "I was braver and still resourceful, but I would have been useless to Homeworld. There isn't any great demand for Gems who would much rather stare at the sky than work."
Re: Talk.
Re: Talk.
And that was frightening to her in ways she hadn't entirely anticipated.
"But what am I for without it?"
Re: Talk.
He shrugged faintly. "But that's the general purpose of any species," he said, "It doesn't actually mean much when you narrow it down to the individual. It doesn't tell us anything about you, specifically."
Re: Talk.
Biting gremlins.
Re: Talk.
Re: Talk.
"If I didn't get broken for trying, I suppose."
She'd seen more than enough Gem shards to understand the fate of those who didn't serve Homeworld's purpose.
Re: Talk.
If simply because if he didn't put it off, he'd grill Peridot about her culture at a time where she, it seemed, would be better off taking some time to think to herself.
Re: Talk.