Out of interest, Selena, what exactly where you responding to?
I've read through Poore's repsonse and I think it's quite reasonable.
Thanks, though I still feel obliged to apologize for upsetting Selena. She has been fair-minded often enough in the past that I will defer to her judgement. That being said, it's no surprise that I often come off a bit abrasive because I am, in reality, a huge dick when it comes to arguments/debates, largely stemming from my hatred for censorship and political correctness. If I feel like I should be an ass to you, then that's what I do. It's just who I am. I try to tone it down the best I can.
He has reminded me of something I had completely forgotten. This isn't the first time I've come across this paradox. The first time I round, given the correct information, I reasoned that there was no reason not to use the teleporter. However, this time round, I reasoned otherwise based on false premises. With perfect tact, he has shown that I was wrong. The correct answer that I should have given was that I would have no hesitation to use the teleporter.
During our life span, we continuously replace brain cells over a seven year period. Brain cells that may store memories in the form of epigenetics or how they are connected, are replaced in a way that does not disrupt memory or even brain structure. The only difference between what happens naturally and the teleporter, is that the latter forces it all to happen all at once or at least in a relatively short timespan. There is no difference. With there being no soul and even no "consciousness", the new you on another planet is still you.
What if the machine breaks down and you remain where you are and a new copy is made elsewhere? Both are you. Mark that as point 0. Both copies cease to be alike after point 0.
It is an interesting paradox, though even if you don't beleive in a soul/consciousness, I tend to believe that the new you is still not you. It's really just the
Ship of Theseus paradox applied to a human being.
Because there are so many parts to a ship AND a human being, I prefer to restate it as the 'grandfather's axe' problem. If your grandfather had an axe, and after he died, your father replaced the head of the axe, and after your father died, you replaced the handle, is it still the same axe? From a material standpoint, no -it's a completely different axe. But the
idea of the axe remains the same, and it's identity in the minds of myself and, when he was still alive, my father, is still that of my grandfather's axe.
In my mind, slowly replacing parts of yourself while the whole remains intact is different from completely destroying and then recreating, but at this point (even if both parties don't believe in the soul) it's completely subjective and I don't think either party can claim a more 'correct' view of the subject.
Yes, this is a very interesting idea and I'm sure there are those who object to it. However, I would like to make one point, Poore.
Materialism is not necessarily the same as those who reject Cartesian dualism. The concept of materialism only posits that everything is made from matter and energy, since energy is interchangeable with matter (E=mc2). Therefore materialism does not necessarily reject the idea of dualism or the soul, as long as both concepts are rooted in material and that neither are non-material. Do not forget that Materialism is a very large philosophical position, bound to have various different schools that may have different aspects.
True, and I concede that I was not as clear as I should have been. When I talk about materialists, I typically mean those who do not consider the soul 'energy', as there is no scientific proof of the soul's energy. I've never met a materialist who actually believed in a soul, but I guess there's always a chance

Edit: This story really illustrates my point of view about this subject (from the WikiPedia article):
I remembered once, in Japan, having been to see the Gold Pavilion Temple in Kyoto and being mildly surprised at quite how well it had weathered the passage of time since it was first built in the fourteenth century. I was told it hadn't weathered well at all, and had in fact been burnt to the ground twice in this century. "So it isn't the original building?" I had asked my Japanese guide.
"But yes, of course it is," he insisted, rather surprised at my question.
"But it's burnt down?"
"Yes."
"Twice."
"Many times."
"And rebuilt."
"Of course. It is an important and historic building."
"With completely new materials."
"But of course. It was burnt down."
"So how can it be the same building?"
"It is always the same building."
I had to admit to myself that this was in fact a perfectly rational point of view, it merely started from an unexpected premise. The idea of the building, the intention of it, its design, are all immutable and are the essence of the building. The intention of the original builders is what survives. The wood of which the design is constructed decays and is replaced when necessary. To be overly concerned with the original materials, which are merely sentimental souvenirs of the past, is to fail to see the living building itself.
Edited by Poore, 05 August 2009 - 04:11 PM.