Dr Anne Sophie Meincke's photoReductionist and non-reductionist theories of personal identity, just as perdurantist and endurantist theories of persistence in general, share the view that identity is opposed to change. How can persons stay the same even though they change over time? How can there be identity despite the fact of change? The common response to this question, which guides and shapes both the general debate on persistence and the special debate on personal identity, is: it cannot. If there is identity, then this is because there is no real change; if there is change of some sort, then there is no identity. This is to say that change can under no circumstances be among the truthmakers of personal identity statements. Nobody is the same because she changed over time but only despite the fact that she changed over time, if that indeed was the case. Change can be only a falsemaker of personal identity statements.

But this is utterly false. Just think of all the changes that are happening in my body while I’m writing these lines. My heart is pumping blood through my arteries, my lungs are filling with air, thereby oxygenating my blood, my cells, dependent on their momentary position in the cell cycle, are growing or undergoing division, food is travelling through my gastrointestinal tract, propelled by peristaltic waves and other mechanisms, and, not to forget, neurons are firing up in my brain as my thoughts develop into some sort of insight, materializing in more or less comprehensive sentences. How could I dismiss all this as irrelevant? Well, reductionists and non-reductionists may reply, if it is relevant to your existence as a person (which might be contested) and if it is change (which is a bit harder to deny), then either it is a mystery how you manage to continue existing despite all this or, actually, you aren’t you any more. But this completely ignores the fact that those biological processes have the function of keeping me alive (and that the mental operations in my head have the function of keeping me mentally and intellectually alive, which seems likewise important). I go on existing as the same because myriads of complicated, interconnected biological processes make me do so. Continue reading “PERSONS AS BIOLOGICAL PROCESSES”



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When I lost [the] left hemisphere [of my brain] and its language centers, I also lost the clock that would break my moments into consecutive brief instances. Instead of having my moments prematurely stunted, they became open-ended, and I felt no rush to do anything. Like walking along the beach, or just hanging out in the beauty of nature, I shifted from the doing-consciousness of my left brain to the being consciousness of my right brain. I morphed from feeling small and isolated to feeling enormous and expansive. I stopped thinking in language and shifted to taking new pictures of what was going on in the present moment. I was not capable of deliberating about past or future-related ideas because those cells were incapacitated. All I could perceive was right here, right now, and it was beautiful.

My entire self-concept shifted as I no longer perceived myself as a single, a solid, an entity with boundaries that separated me from the entities around me. I understood that at the most elementary level, I am a fluid. Of course I am a fluid! Everything around us, about us, among us, within us, and between us is made up of atoms and molecules vibrating in space. Although the ego center of our language center prefers defining our self as individual and solid, most of us are aware that we are made up of trillions of cells, gallons of water, and ultimately everything about us exists in a constant and dynamic state of activity. My left hemisphere had been trained to perceive myself as a solid, separate from others.

Now, released from that restrictive circuitry, my right hemisphere relished in its attachment to the eternal flow. I was no longer isolated and alone. My soul was as big as the universe and frolicked with glee in a boundless sea. For many of us, thinking about ourselves as fluid, or with souls as big as the universe, connected to the energy flow of all that is, slips us out just beyond our comfort zone. But without the judgment of my left brain saying that I am a solid, my perception of myself returned to this natural state of fluidity. Clearly, we are each trillions upon trillions of particles in soft vibration. We exist as fluid-filled sacs in a fluid world where everything exists in motion. Different entities are composed of different densities of molecules but ultimately every pixel is made up of electrons, protons, and neutrons performing a delicate dance. Every pixel, including every iota of you and me, and every pixel of space seemingly in between, is atomic matter and energy. My eyes could no longer perceive things as things that were separate from one another. Instead, the energy of everything blended together. My visual processing was no longer normal.

I was consciously alert and my perception was that I was in the flow. Everything in my visual world blended together, and with every pixel radiating energy we all flowed en masse, together as one. It was impossible for me to distinguish the physical boundaries between objects because everything radiated with similar energy. It’s probably comparable to when people take off their glasses or put eye drops into their eyes – the edges become softer. In this state of mind, I could not perceive three dimensionally. Nothing stood out as being closer or farther away. If there was a person standing in a doorway, I could not distinguish their presence until they moved. It took activity for me to know that I should pay special attention to any particular patch of molecules. In addition, color did not register to my brain as color. I simply couldn’t distinguish it. Prior to this morning when I had experienced myself as a solid, I had possessed the ability to experience loss – either physical loss via death or injury, or emotional loss through heartache. But in this shifted perception, it was impossible for me to perceive either physical or emotional loss because I was not capable of experiencing separation or individuality. Despite my neurological trauma, an unforgettable sense of peace pervaded my entire being and I felt calm.

Although I rejoiced in my perception of connection to all that is, I shuddered at the awareness that I was no longer a normal human being. How on earth would I exist as a member of the human race with this heightened perception that we are each a part of it all, and that the life force energy within each of us contains the power of the universe? How could I fit in with our society when I walk the earth with no fear? I was, by anyone’s standard, no longer normal. In my own unique way, I had become severely mentally ill. And I must say, there was both freedom and challenge for me in recognizing that our perception of the external world, and our relationship to it, is a product of our neurological circuitry. For all those years of my life, I really had been a figment of my own imagination!

When the time keeper in my left hemisphere shut down, the natural temporal cadence of my life s-l-o-w-e-d to the pace of a snail. As my perception of time shifted, I fell out of sync with the beehive that bustled around me. My consciousness drifted into a time warp, rendering me incapable of communicating or functioning at either the accustomed or acceptable pace of social exchange. I now existed in a world between worlds. I could no longer relate to people outside of me, and yet my life had not been extinguished. I was not only an oddity to those around me, but on the inside, I was an oddity to myself. I felt so detached from my ability to move my body with any oomph that I truly believed I would never be able to get this collection of cells to perform again. Wasn’t it interesting that although I could not walk or talk, understand language, read or write, or even roll my body over, I knew that I was okay? The now off-line intellectual mind of my left hemisphere no longer inhibited my innate awareness that I was the miraculous power of life. I knew I was different now – but never once did my right mind indicate that I was “less than” what I had been before. I was simply a being of light radiating life into the world. Regardless of whether or not I had a body or brain that could connect me to the world of others, I saw myself as a cellular masterpiece. In the absence of my left hemisphere’s negative judgment, I perceived myself as perfect, whole, and beautiful just the way I was.

Jill Bolte Taylor, My Stroke of Insight: A Brain Scientist’s Personal Journey
Read the whole book here.


Nature is that which has always been there.  This is the thinking of Heraclitus.  In his eyes, it has always been made up of the world (cosmos) as what “was, is and will be.”  This is to make Nature finite, to diminish its power.  Nature did not create itself, that is to say permanently structure itself into the world, but unceasingly and tirelessly builds itself and becomes finite by forming itself into a multiplicity of worlds.  This means that it breaks up into innumerable worlds that are not at all eternal, but are born and perish.  It is like a perpetual laboratory of endless and multiple trials because it is not only one order (cosmos) that is born of Nature, but all systems of the order are born of it at one time or another.

By his cosmology, Heraclitus is the ancestor of Plato’s followers.  However, by his panta rhei, “everything flows,” he is the prime example of all the philosophies of movement, from Montaigne to Bergson, before and after.  Furthermore, what is the Tao, according to Lao Tzu, but “perpetual mutability itself,” that is to say Heraclitus’s river?  Yet it must be added: with certain characteristics of Anaximander’s Phusis, because the “Path” (Tao), which is infinite in that it is unqualified, undetermined, and conceptually incomprehensible, is also the source and principle of birth and growth for individual beings: differentiating themselves and becoming finite, it thus deploys a generative force, Te – a word which is generally translated as “Virtue.”  Nothing prevents this “Virtue” from showing itself in innumerable worlds.