"Memento", The Manner In Which We Continue To Happen

If most of us were to come across a young shepherd struggling with a snake that had bit into the shepherd's throat, any one of us would view this event with horror and relief. It should go without saying why one would react with horror, but to clarify what is meant by relief, the simple thought comes to mind: “I'm glad that's not me.” When Zarathustra came across the shepherd, horror was accompanied by nausea rather than relief. Zarathustra could take no refuge in relief, for such recourse is a luxury solely for the herd animal, a reactive mammal that does not create values for itself. Why does Zarathustra feel nausea where the herd feels relief? What is meant by “nausea” in this context?
While relief is meant to imply a distance that one has from the situation at hand, nausea is more a representation of the thought: “That is me!” This nausea is not meant to infer identity, but rather a sameness of condition. In this essay I will draw more on the distinction between nausea and relief, and I will use the film Memento, to demonstrate how each of us is partaking in self-deceit when disposed toward relief. My aim will be to explain Nietzsche's notion of eternal return, and to present a particular interpretation of the film that indicates the conditions of Nietzsche's themes in our own lives. From this I hope to show that while relief may be comforting, it is nothing short of an easy way out from having to work at constantly becoming.
Eternal Return
Nietzsche's circular conception of time is meant to rival the popular linear notion of time. The latter is a construction of the Priest, and is meant to establish human origins in original sin. We are sinners from the start, and all one can look toward in the future is redemption from the past as the final goal of man through time. In this sense one believes the future will be different than the past, but one is constrained to live in a resentful manner if this is to be the case. It is Nietzsche's genealogy that examines the idea of resentment, the primary weapon of the slave revolt that says “No” to everything outside of itself, everything foreign to it. Those who express resentment are living reactively, depending on forces exterior to oneself in order to act. This impotence of the heart is unable to create values in an active manner—not depending on anyone or anything else. Active living requires a constant willing in the midst of a forever changing world, and as such, Christianity advocates a hostility towards the physical, towards impermanence, and views time as having a set beginning and end. No amount of physical change can upset that order—there is no place for one to be active. To do so is to take allegiance with the body and to give in to “sin”. This is an ideal reactive way of living in that one in the present is merely believed to be the result of original sin. In this conception of time, all one ever does is respond to that cause, that origin. Through the bible, sin was meant to encourage spite towards impermanent bodies, as an “evil” disruption to the order of time. It's in this manner that man is hidden from himself, and is influenced to resent oneself as a creature of change, whose nature has the capacity to create. It's through this Christian rhetoric that man attempts to master the world as opposed to mastering oneself.
A linear construct of time entails a commitment to a beginning, and an end. A circular conception, however, entails neither of the two traits, but instead occurs infinitely, and implies a commitment to the self. Nietzsche viewed time in such a circular way, and referred to it as the “eternal recurrence” (I will refer to it as the “eternal return”). In part three of Thus Spoke Zarathustra, under the section entitled “On the Vision and the Riddle”, Zarathustra explains his insights into the eternal return:
"“Behold,” I continued, “this moment! From this gateway, Moment, a long, eternal lane leads backwards: behind us lies an eternity. Must not whatever can walk have walked on this lane before? Must not whatever can happen have happened... Must not this gateway too have been there before?... For whatever can walk—in this long lane out there too, it must walk once more."
Nietzsche believes this sense of time to be far more life-affirming than the linear way. Interpreting time in this manner better enables one to see oneself as one who can become self-mastered.
One may be quick to interpret Nietzsche's sense of time as being one that claims everything simply repeats itself. This is so, but in not so analytic a manner. The analytical interpretation may think that the exact same moment, or collection of moments, occur again and again. Nietzsche's claim is not to be understood literally, but rather metaphorically, in that passing moments share a sameness with one another, but they are not identical. The sameness they share is one of kind, they are the same kind of moments in the sense that one, in the throes of existence, is constantly having to will in the moment, is having to constantly work with states of becoming—for nothing is permanent. So while one may will oneself to exhibit kindness to one's beloved in the moment, that instance passes, and it would be in vain for one to attempt to hold onto the self as being kind in light of a single instance. One must continue to exhibit kindness in the moment in order for kindness to be the founding value to the relationship between one and one's partner. As the moment passes, so does the active value, and one is constantly having to work at creating value. It's in this sense that one can relive the same kind of life of the past by looking at the past and interpreting it as a challenging question: “Would I will that way again?”
Reflecting back to the shepherd and his struggle with the snake—a creature in various cultures that is thought to represent the circular conditions of existence in that it circles around to swallow its own tail—the shepherd bit the head off the snake and laughed in triumph. It was in this moment that the shepherd changed into something more than a reactive human. Zarathustra yearned to laugh like this—laughter that signifies a mastering over the eternal return; to be self-mastered in that one no longer is imprisoned by a beginning and end; to be undaunted by the notion of having to continually work at creating value. Given that we are all subject to time, it is a lack of will for anyone to look at the shepherd's struggle with relief.
Memento
Who is it that lives in relief? Those who follow the Priest, the herd, are disposed to an existence that indicates distance from life-affirming activity. However, these types of people are the consequent of generations past. It is not hard to imagine that they are completely ignorant of eternal return, nor do they have any sense of it's occurrence. What of the man who, like Zarathustra, views the shepherd's struggle with nausea, interprets the matter as being indicative of his own struggle, and because of which, flees to relief? What if this flight was so well fueled by nausea that the relief taken to allows one to forget that one ever felt noxious? In Genealogy, Nietzsche discussed two different types of forgetting, but it is the kind that guides one into habit and routine that will be under review. Forgetting, in this sense, is an account of how one loses sense of how one's values came to be, and how one comes to habitually accept values due to their utility. This kind of forgetting is a foundational factor for the herd instinct. While most forget without realizing it, who is it that wills to forget? Let's look at Leonard Shelby.

• “I have this condition.”

Leonard Shelby begins as our protagonist of the story, but as we will come to see he is actually not that at all. Leonard is a man who suffers from a rare condition of short-term memory loss. He acquired this condition from an injury he suffered while defending his wife during a burglary. He's able to remember everything before the accident, but is unable to make new memories since then. It's in this way that everything seems to fade for Leonard, so if a conversation goes on for too long, he will forget how it started, and having met the person he's talking to. One question that should come to mind is, “how can someone operate with this kind of condition?” Answer: Tattoos and conditioning.
The plot of the film involves Leonard pursuing the burglar that killed his wife and gave him his injury. This task is seemingly impossible for him if it were not for the tattoos he puts on himself that list facts about his investigation, the primary one written across his chest: “John G. raped and murdered my wife.” Assisting the tattoos are photographs he takes of his environment and people he meets with notes attached to them concerning their relevance to him.

• “Remember Sammy Jenkins.”

Leonard has conditioned himself to refer to his pictures to know about people and the world, and to look to his tattoos for evidence of his progress (and to get tattooed when he discovers a vital bit of information). Another aspect of his conditioning is to recall the events pertaining to a man that also has his condition: Sammy Jenkins. Leonard uses this tale to inspire himself to remain conditioned: Sammy ended up killing his own wife, on accident, because he lacked conditions to enable him to remember that he had already given his wife several insulin shots (within a short period) for her diabetes. All three elements: tattoos/photographs, conditioning, and Sammy make Leonard's life possible.

• “Maybe you should start investigating your self.”

Leonard is very much living with a herd instinct. His three elements allow him to better fit into his routine, and his habits are strong in that his discourse goes without question. Seeing as he can't remember what inspired each tattoo, he just assumes their validity in regards to his investigation as a result of a valid historical process. If we see the tattoos as values meant to better enable him to achieve his goal, he has forgotten their origin. This matters little to him because to investigate the origin of the facts would actually begin an investigation of himself, which has actually already happened. Toward the end of the film, Leonard is presented with a new photograph taken months prior to the events we are witnessing now. The photo features Leonard, bloody and smiling, and he is informed that he has already killed John G. The revelation comes minutes after he has killed a man, that his tattoos lead him to, named Jimmy Grants; not exactly “John G.”, but close enough to allow him to complete his purpose... again.
What Leonard discovers in this moment is that the source of most of his tattoos were originally manipulated by him knowing that he would soon forget that he had distorted the source. This forgetting has put him in a better position to live a life of habit, and to be mastered by eternal return. Each time he kills a “John G.”, instead of making a tattoo of it, he lets himself forget in order to get caught up in the routine once again. What's important to observe is that moments before Leonard forgets his involvements he is confronted with a sense of his circle, with nausea. In this short time he's fully conscience of the notion of past John G's, and that he's done all this before—he is all too aware of the shepherd's struggle. This might inspire hope in the audience at first, that he has the chance to take hold of his life, master the snake, and in doing so, master himself. This is not what happens, and this may be due to one more bit of nausea: Sammy's story is in fact his story. Leonard's wife never died from the attack, and it was Leonard who accidentally gave her an insulin overdoes.
As long as Leonard lives in habit, the snake will always catch him by the throat. He is very aware of this in these few moments in which he is presented with what he's really done many times over. However, this nausea turns to serve as his inspiration for relief. It's absolutely tumultuous for him to think that not only has his purpose of being an agent of justice passed, but is also a lie. Constant becoming is too much for Leonard to face, and so he continues to allow himself to forget his every chance at mastering the moment.
Memento As a Mirror
My interpretation of the film is to see it as a mirror, similar to how others may view other art pieces and forms. I find it fascinating to think of one who has the sight for eternal return, but would much rather live amongst the herd. Given Leonard's feelings of nausea at the realization of the sameness of events over time, I can't help but conclude that his disposition of relief is grounded in false pretenses, but isn't any relief of this kind grounded just the same? Do we not see this relief in others on a daily basis?
Before we get to these questions, there are other aspects of the film production itself that assist in drawing the audience into Leonard's struggle with becoming. His flight to relief is also a flight towards a linear conception of time. Leonard's original sin consists of him having not protected his wife when he could have. The future is a path that leads to his only possibility—redemption by murdering John G. There are no instances of activity on this road, but every act is merely a reaction to what is required to fulfill this path. He blindly accepts every moment as a resulting consequence of his investigation, and his tattoos serve as “evidence” of progress. The style in which this film is directed gives the audience a sense of what it may be like to live in this blind manner that is unique due to his condition. Anyone entering the film with presumptions of a linear conception of time may be thrown off balance in that the story is told backwards.
The first scene itself moves backwards! We watch as Leonard stares at his latest kill (that we come to understand later as another distorted path to a “John G.”), the Polaroid picture of his deed goes from showing a dead body to fading into a blank white plastic sheet, and the bullet that he shot at the victim exits out from the back of his head and returns into the barrel of Leonard's gun. The audience does not yet realize that this backward tactic is actually foreshadowing the theme of the film. We start at the end, and end at the beginning, and, as it was mentioned above, this has all happened before. Not only are we watching events unfold backwards, we are also watching snippets of the past move forward. To clarify, we are going back and forth between two different moments in time, each of which will come to meet each other in the middle. The past consists of following Leonard as his prepares to pursue the man we've already seen him kill, and theses scenes are in black and white. The end, where the movie began, is in color, and is confusing for the audience seeing as it is unclear as to how and why he's in the situation he's in. Is this not how it is for Leonard, who is in a state of constantly forgetting: not knowing where he is, how he got there, and why he's there? We learn through his habit: tattoos and conditioning.
When both segments of time converge, we start the sequence in black and white, and the screen slowly turns to color as it comes to meet the corresponding sequence. I interpret this as the gateway that Zarathustra mentions:
“And if everything has been there before before—what do you think, dwarf, of this moment? Must not this gateway too have been there before? And are not all things knotted together so firmly that this moment draws after it all that is to come?”
For the audience the story moved backward only to meet up with events moving forward, and at the meeting point we find Leonard engaged in the same struggle as before. For anyone who wishes to imagine the movie played in a linear fashion, starting at the beginning and ending “appropriately”, are not the events we come to see the same as those we started with? Does a linear version give us a relief from the circularity of the sequence? Given that we know Leonard does not tattoo John's murder on himself, and that his beginning is a lie, it's safe to assume that he will be back at this same gateway later.
Conclusion
Similar to how Leonard exhibits a lack of will by reacting with relief when confronted with nausea, anyone is equally lacking when spectating the shepherd's struggle and believes oneself a spectator. Leonard is capable of biting the head off the snake, but believes it's far more comforting to let it consume him. As long as the snake continues to conquer, so will the eternal return master him. Such defeat is ironic in Leonard's case in that he appeals to linear time. It's as though the snake's venom caused its victim to hallucinate and see it as a friendly neighbor. Heidegger was thinking along similar lines in his dichotomy between authentic Being and the they-self. Heidegger viewed authenticity as a state of constant becoming, reached by anxiety, taking continual work. This work is made more difficult by the fact that life as a they-self, amongst the herd, is tempting.
A life without such work is very relieving for some, to not trouble oneself with impermanent creation. However, I do not feel such comforts are as enticing as Heidegger makes them out to be. Is there not any sort of excitement to think of Leonard as mastering himself and moving onto a new project? I do not find it to be problematic to think that one may feel slight relief in completing a project, which in this sense is appropriate as that project is no longer oneself, but best to be accompanied by excitement at the notion that one is alive and has the capacity to exhibit will. The eternal return expresses a constant sameness of circumstances, but this does not mean we must continue to be the same and fall prey to reactivity. The hostility toward both change and eternal return stems from both laziness to will, and a fear that one is unable to. However, when juxtaposed to the art of dancing, of taking charge of oneself within the eternal return, I can hardly view laziness and cowardice as being remotely appealing.

Personal Identity: Are Persons Just Bodies?

[My views have changed since I originally wrote this a year ago, but my claim that the mind as an entity (or in Descartes' case Substance) that exists is illusionary has not altered. My current position, however is no longer a critique supported by science or materialism, but rather my current argument is much more similar to that of my last article "We Don't Evade the IRS", and that any sort of claims in both science and metaphysics is undermined by the conventional role of language. I've still decided that this article holds some interest, especially when juxtaposed with my current writing. It also became apparent that the idea of mind, or mental activity, is quite popular, or advocated, by those who claim not to be dualist in any form. It would seem then that discussions about mind as it concerns both identity and activity are still important seeing as certain theoretical, and possibly practical, consequences can arise given the conclusions we come to about mind that we might find regrettable. It's this appeal to mind that I find to be one of the consequences of the popularity of the digital social landscape. It was Veen's presumption that my simple involvement in academic philosophy must entail that I hold a particular support of the occurrence of mental events. As I hope this article demonstrates, that even though I practice philosophy, this does not necessitate that I support any kind of dualism, nor does it mean that I am involved in it regardless]


As it pertains to personal identity, there are some who contend that persons are just bodies, and that a person's existence over various points in time is dependent on whether the same body persists at each point. Opposed to this are those who support the notion that persons are more than simply bodies, and while the body may perish, the person survives. We consider the latter view to be a form of (substance) dualism, the view that the mind and the body are distinct entities that seem to interact at times. Consequently, it is some immaterial substance that has a particular relation to a particular body that persists in the instance of that body's absence. Descartes saw this immaterial substance as the soul, which consists of mental events, and due to this, “soul” and “mind” are often used interchangeably. In this paper I will be defending a position against Descartes' view that the soul, apart from the body, suffices for adequate criterion for personal identity over time. Also, I will argue against the idea that a physical account of personal identity over time excludes mental events, and argue for a strictly physical criterion that includes mental events as a brain process. In the four sections that follow, I will first discuss Derek Parfit's notion of psychological continuity, and give an account of how equating mental events, alone, with a person's identity leads to an incomplete criterion of identity. Second, I will examine the notion of constitutive reductionism that Parfit supports, the view that a person is an entity that has a body and mental events, but exists by consisting in them. (Parfit 1995) Third, we will see how the Cartesian Ego attempts to give an account of identity. Fourth, I will place identifying reductionism, the view that persons are just bodies, against constitutive reductionism and attempt to show the former as being the more reasonable concerning personal identity over time.
In the process, I will be making several references to thought experiments proposed by Parfit, (1995) the first of which focuses on his notion of “teletransportation”:
Here on Earth, I enter the Teletransporter. When I press some button, a machine destroys my body, while recording the exact states of all my cells. The information is sent by radio to Mars, where another machine makes, out of organic materials, a perfect copy of my body. The person who wakes up on Mars seems to remember living my life up to the moment when I pressed the button, and he is in every other way just like me. (p. 13-28)
For those who contend that persons are just bodies, teletransportation comes off as a terrible mistake; it's believed that the person on Mars is a mere replica of the original person on Earth. The person on Mars will have memories from past moments from the person on Earth, but the person on Mars was not physically present for those past experiences. For those who believe that there is something more apart from a physical account of persons, there's no problem here. The soul, as an immaterial substance, is unaffected by teletransport and persists onto to the person on Mars. Given this, the person on Mars is the person from Earth, so long as those same mental events make the commute (This is similar to the idea of a person dying in this world, and arriving as the same person in Heaven). In this case, the body does not even need to be an exact copy, but instead can arrive on Mars looking like someone else entirely, or can even be an animal, just so long as the person on Mars is psychologically continuous with the person from Earth.
I
Parfit's notion of psychological continuity does not advocate that the person on Mars is the person on Earth, on the grounds of mental events passing from one person to the other. Let's clarify what Parfit means by psychological continuity through two thought experiments. (1971) The first thought experiment involving a brain transplant between two human bodies: person A's brain is removed and placed into brainless body B. After the successful operation, B has A's character and memories. Parfit presumes a general consensus that most of us would agree that A=B, that is, A is now B. In the second thought experiment: A's brain is split into two equal halves, one of which is put into body B, and the other into body C. Both B and C have the character and memories of A. Parfit sees only three ways to view the outcome of this latter operation: (1) A does not survive; (2) A survives as either B or C; or (3) A survives as both B and C. He believes outcome 1 is irrational seeing as we before agreed that A=B, or that A survived the operation when it was just between A and B. If this is so, then there doesn't seem to be any reason why A would not survive at all in this situation. According to the second outcome, A only makes it as one of the two persons. This is just as irrational as the first seeing as if one transplant succeeded, then there's no reason the other would not. In other words, how is it possible that A=B, but A≠C? Both of the brain halves are equal, so both B and C received the same character and memories. It doesn't rationally follow that A can make it as one of them and not the other.
We're left with outcome 3, which he entertains as being just as absurd seeing as one person can't be two: A=B and A=C. Someone might see a transitive logical consequence to this and conclude that if A=B and A=C, then B=C. To this effect we might say that A has survived, and at the end of the day we may have two bodies, but really just one person; A has survived as a divided mind with two bodies. Though some may think this to be insane, Parfit wishes to defend outcome 3 as the best possible outcome. Our disturbed reaction, he proposes, is due to our attachment to the language of identity. As it was worded before, we identify A as B. If this is the case then clearly outcome 3 is absurd, but our original experiment between A and B would be as well, given that the only difference between the two experiments is the divided brain. With all said regarding the irrationality of outcomes 1 and 2, how could it be that in the case of the first experiment we identify A as B on the grounds that B houses A's character and memories, but when both B and C have A's character and memories, any identifying clause comes across as bizarre? It seems that if outcome 3 fails, then the initial experiment between A and B does as well.
Parfit's response is that our conundrum is caused by our language of identity, in saying A is B (or C), when really we should be thinking in terms of survival. If we are to think of A as surviving in two separate bodies without having to be identified as either of them, then we have an instance of psychological continuity. Mary Schechtman defends the “circularity objection” against Parfit's proposal of psychological continuity. The circularity objection holds that in the case of memory, in order for mental state m to be a genuine memory of some past experience e, the person in state m must be the very same person as the one who originally had e. (Schechtman 1990) Schechtman's criticism is that if psychological continuity does not necessarily confirm identity, but can speak in a manner that implies survival, then m can never really be said to be a genuine memory. This does not bother Parfit's view as we are to consider m as only a possible genuine memory of e, or rather a quasi-memory (abbreviated by Parfit as q-memories). Given that q-memories are apparent memories that may or may not pertain to you, its fair to say then that A has not ceased to exist, but has survived, psychologically, in both B and C via q-memories; A continues as a mental event within B and C. Thus, Parfit's view of psychological continuity entails that mental events (memories, dispositions, belief, etc.) persist over time by existing in the mind(s) of a person(s).
This is bothersome to Schechtman as she doesn't believe q-memories to do the job that Parfit believes them to do, that is, to support the idea of psychological continuity by means of survival rather than by an understanding of identity. Schechtman refers to Bishop Butler's notion that one must already have a criterion for personal identity in order to establish that memory m is genuine. Schechtman's challenge to Parfit is to propose as version of psychological continuity that doesn't presuppose facts about personal identity. Parfit believes q-memories to have done the trick, but Schechtman proposes a thought experiment of her own: imagine someone born in Paris, has always lived there, and thus speaks French fluently. This person is a man who has never been married, and is heterosexual. Next we're to consider placing q-memories into his brain of a woman who was born in the U.S.A, speaks only English, and is married with two children. It should be obvious that these memories will conflict. The man will most certainly be confused as to how he could possibly have memories of giving birth to two children, having a husband, and reading subtitles to French films. We can grant that he may have q-memories present in him, as a mental event, and that the woman is psychologically continuous with him presently, but it should be so blatantly obvious that those q-memories do not pertain to him whatsoever. We're meant to see that q-memories, in this instance, stick out to the degree that it causes actual memories to become ever more apparent.
While I agree with Schechtman, that if we're having q-memories, some of them can be easily dismissed as bearing no relation at all to genuine memories. On the other hand, the circularity objection does not address delusions, as B and C must be the ones to have had experience e seeing as they have memories m from A. We can understand a delusion as an apparent memory of an experience that one did not in fact have. We may be able to dismiss certain events as q-memories some of the time, but Schechtman does not make it clear as to when we actually have a genuine memory. We can look at the film, Memento, to see how the circularity objection fails. (2001) Some may say that the film does not provide an adequate case against the circularity objection seeing as the main character, Leonard, suffers from a unique condition that prevents him from being able to create short-term memories. True. Unfortunately, his condition does nothing to prevent him from being able to access long-term memories. Over the course of the film, Leonard's narration provides us with glimpses of who he believes himself to be based on his recollection of experiences he had prior to his injury, which caused him to lose the ability to create short-term memories. As such, Leonard can never have new long-term memories, but can only rely on what's in there prior to his injury. As he decides to seek out his wife's killer, his only hope is to tattoo vital bits of evidence, about the killer, on himself. What he remembers is his only insight to who he is, and his tattoos serve just as good as memories to the degree that he literally wears them. By the end we find that he has manipulated the police report on his wife's murder, a deed that he soon forgot, and learn that she was not murdered. Leonard seems to be incapable of being able to sort out genuine memories from delusions, and regardless of the confusion, tells himself that he is in m in order to have an authentic purpose in life. For most of us, our short-term memories work just fine, but apart from that, Schechtman does nothing to show how we're any different from Leonard, and the past that he is referring to can in no way be trusted to be his.
II
From psychological continuity we're meant to understand the persistence over time of certain mental events such as memory, dispositions, and beliefs. While q-memories, the manner in which this continuity seems to travel by, may stick out in the way Schechtman proposed, they do not imply identity. As the circularity objection means to indicate that genuine memories do imply identity, it does nothing to sort out delusion, and in the mean time one may be unknowingly mistaking delusion for memory, as in Leonard's case, associating it with identity. Q-memories don't have this problem. The mental event as such is to be treated with impartiality; it is an event that is in my mind, and yet it may or may not pertain directly to the entity having them. Parfit wants psychological continuity to be a factor in personal identity, but one that assists a bodily criterion for identity.
What can a criterion of psychological continuity tell us regarding teletransportation? The person on Earth survives as the person on Mars, but the person on Earth is not the person on Mars. This case is similar to the one between A and B where “A=B”, but “=” in this sense is meant to imply survival; B is not the same entity as A. This establishes that B is qualitatively identical to A, or exactly similar to, but not numerically identical. To illustrate qualitative and numerical identity, Parfit uses the example of two billiard balls, both of which are of equal size, weight, and color. (1995) By means of these qualities both balls are similar, and if we look at the qualities alone, we might be tempted to say they're the same ball. I think while none of us will have any objection to saying they're similar, most of us will hesitate to say they're the same ball, due to the fact that they're numerically different: we have two separate balls in view. This may seem obvious, but it's important to see that if we're to consider qualitative similarity alone, then there would be nothing to stop us from saying the two balls are in fact one and the same, much like the divided brain scenario where B=C.
As the person on Mars is an exact copy of the person on Earth, both entities are qualitatively similar to the other, both in appearance and mental content. However, the two entities can not be seen as numerically identical due to the body of the person on Earth is destroyed, and any body created on Mars would not be that original body. When I get on a bus, the body that starts the trip is the same as the one that ends it. There is a one-one relation between the time I get on the bus to the time I get off, a new body does not intervene on the scenario to cause us to think of two bodies over time as opposed to one. As it concerns the Earth-person's memories, Mars-person may have them in mind, but was never physically present for such experiences. With numerical identity we have a one-one relation over time, meaning the entity that had an experience at time 1 is the same entity that experiences an event at time 2. If we changed the color of one of the billiard balls, we still have one and the same ball over time, all that's changed is its qualitative features from the time it was one color to the time it was changed. With teletransportation, if we had numerical identity, we would be speaking of the same body on both Earth and Mars occurring at different times. With psychological continuity we get A survives as B, but A is not numerically identical with B. Parfit believes that psychological continuity is an important factor to a person persisting through time, but alone it can not give us numerical identity. The numerical criterion for identity thus is a physical relation, in which A can be identified as B only if A and B are the same body over time. As such, if A had committed some crime prior to the brain split, then who would we hold accountable: B and/or C? With the physical criterion, A is off the hook in the sense that A is dead. As for B and C, they may feel as though they committed the crime, but the crime occurred at time 1 some days prior to the surgery. For B and C, there is no time 1 for they would have to have been physically present for said time (1 as it was for A). Given the crime took place at time 1, it is required that the culprit be someone who was present for time 1. In other words, it would not be enough for A to survive as B by means of psychological continuity to make B accountable for A's crime.
This suggests that the only way we can identify a person over time is by observing if the entity in question is the same body. Parfit does not think a physical criterion is enough. Identifying reductionism is the view in which persons just are bodies, and Parfit is quick to dismiss this view as he describes it as being too simple. (1995) A sense of psychological continuity should accompany a physical criterion, and he believes to demonstrate this by referring to a bronze statue: if we're to melt down the statue, left only with a lump of bronze, then it would be irrational to see the lump as the statue. If we're to reduce persons to just bodies, then we would no longer have a person, but simply the thing in which a person consists. Rather than taking up identifying reductionism, he supports constitutive reductionism that asserts that we have psychological continuity along with a physical criterion.
Constitutive reductionism is a view that holds that persons are distinct from their bodies and mental events. A person as such is an entity that has a body and mental events, but exists by consisting in them. Some may think this not only to be dualist, but also to support some notion of there being a Cartesian Ego that persists over time, over and above the physical. Parfit disagrees, and holds that “though persons are distinct from their bodies, and from any series of mental events, they are not independent or separately existing entities.” (1995) Parfit wishes for us to understand, as with the statue, that a person does not exist separately from the physical matter and the psychological content in which it exists, but it's wrong to equate a person with such matter, rather, a person is an entity that consists both in the matter and mental events. Parfit refers to yet another example, which is meant to simplify the issue. Parfit brings up a group of several trees growing on top of a hill together. (1995) From this we're able to learn that there's a copse on the hill. Learning that there's a copse on the hill is not new factual information, rather, we have merely learned that the trees grouped together in such a manner can be called a 'copse'. When we observe an entity that consists both in a physically continuous matter that is also psychologically continuous with its prior states, we call such an entity a 'person', and calling it that is not new separately obtaining factual information. Our only new information is about language.
III
Simple reductionism about personal identity maintains that any and all facts concerning persons and personal identity over time “...consists in the holding of certain more particular facts about brains, bodies and interrelated physical and mental events.” (Shoemaker 2002) Opposed to this is the Cartesian Ego that suggests that facts about persons and personal identity involve some further facts. We can consider all the physical and psychological facts about a person, but there would still be something else not obtained in such facts. Descartes thought that there is nothing attributable to the body that can account for the soul. The soul, by Descartes standards, lacks any extension and bears no relation to physical matter of any kind, but it does relate “...solely to the whole assemblage of the body's organs.” The only thing we can attribute to the soul is our thoughts, and this is what we can understand as the Cartesian Ego.
As the soul is distinct from the body, its interaction with it is unique, to say the least, and is comprised of animal spirits, (our) blood, fibers, pores, and possibly more. Despite the obvious contradiction, Descartes believed this to be a defensible position, and claimed that the soul exercises its function in a particular gland in the brain, which was later identified as the pineal gland. Descartes states that the soul has two kinds of thought, one being its actions, the other its passions. The actions are all our volitions and proceed directly from the soul itself and depend on nothing else. Passions, however, are thoughts that don't come from the soul alone, but are brought about by things in the world that are represented by thoughts. It's from the passions that we get an idea of the physical world, and this information is acquired from sense perception. As the passions represent the sense information, the actions will the body to move and do all sorts of things.
It's unclear where the soul itself physically resides according to Descartes' theory, whether its somewhere apart from the body, or if it's nestled somehow in the pineal gland and apart from the body. As the soul lacks extension, it shouldn't physically reside anywhere. If it is somehow in the pineal gland we should not be able to detect it by any physical means (put away your microscopes and x-ray glasses). Even if this account of the soul is true, by what means can the passions inform any one soul of the existence of another soul? Perhaps this is a duty solely for the actions, as such thought is meant to apply to immaterial objects. The actions then would have to house knowledge of other souls apart from any sense experience. Other than the existence of the soul bearing itself in mind, or bearing knowledge of itself within itself, there is no evidence of the Cartesian Ego. Descartes presumed that thought in itself serves as evidence, but this is erroneous. Simply because we have thoughts does not mean that their origin must by from some immaterial entity. This is similar to considering the miracles of Jesus to be evidence of God. If Jesus ever did turn water in wine, this in itself does not prove God's existence, rather, that Jesus works magic (and is an amazing bartender). Thoughts do not, by default, point to something further than the body.
Despite there being no evidence to support the notion of the Cartesian Ego, some still believe it to possibly exist. As the soul lacks extension, I would be wrong to search for it by physical means. Given that I have no other means to detect an object in reality by, I will never be able to detect it. The advocate of the Cartesian Ego might then say that I can not disprove its existence. Bertrand Russell's “teapot” example handles this quite nicely (much as I also believe it to have done with the God delusion): There is a teapot that is hovering in space, undetectable by microscope, or any means for that matter, but I tell you it's there! As we are unable to detect it, we are unable to disprove its existence, but this, however, does not imply that anyone ought to believe in it. Belief on this matter (or any) should rely on evidence. Given the nature of the teapot, there may be no evidence. There is no evidence for the Cartesian Ego, so I'm not rationally inclined to believe in it. It's important to note that there is plenty of evidence to show that the pineal gland does not house animal spirits, and until it's explained how an immaterial entity that lacks extension interacts with a physical body, we have no reason to think that the soul exercises its function through the gland, or any part of the body.
Belief in the Cartesian Ego permits one to think that a person survives the death of the body to the extent that the person on Mars is the same person as the one on Earth. There is nothing that rationally justifies us to believe in the soul, so we are not compelled to believe that personal identity over time is sustained, or characterized, by the Cartesian Ego. The nature of the soul/mind should not be accepted as a criterion for personal identity.
IV
If anyone is worried that by eliminating soul we are also eliminating the mind, douse your tears, because when we speak of 'mind' we are really just speaking of brain states. Mental events, as a state(s) of consciousness, still occur, but do so as a brain process(es). With reductionism we get that a person is an entity whose existence consists in a body and the occurrence of mental events. This does not so much express a divide as it does a person's functional state(s) as a body. Parfit's constitutive reductionism does express a divide as he means to differentiate it from identifying reductionism, the view that persons are just bodies. Some might think that by “mental events”, Parfit is suggesting a phenomenological aspect to the brain's conscious existence. While Parfit might support this, I don't think this is the initial suggestion, and that a phenomenological account of consciousness can come only as a possible addition to his theory.
Parfit is quite clear in dismissing identifying reductionism. (1995) He claims that it is too simple, and believes the bronze statue an adequate example as we do not equate the statue to its melted down state. He thinks constitutive reductionism to be more plausible, that a person consists in a body, and mental events. If a person consists just in a body, this would be considered incomplete by Parfit's standard. Then whatever mental events are, they are not physical, nor contained in the body. Though Parfit states that reductionists can be dualist, while not believing in purely mental substances, such as the Cartesian Ego, it's unclear how mental events interact with the physical in this case (or any case). While Earth-person's body comes to a dead halt (no pun intended), the person's mental events seem to continue forward to Mars to match up with the replica. Why were not the mental events destroyed and replicated too if we are not referring to Cartesian Egos? If they were destroyed, and thus being physical, he runs into the same problem with physical numerical identity: there is no longer a one-one relation between the qualities of Earth-person and Mars-person. If psychological continuity is physical by any means, then in no way is Mars-person the person from Earth. What we have then with constitutive reductionism is that, alone, a “melted down” body does not suffice as identity, nor does psychological continuity.
I don't think Parfit would argue against this as he makes clear psychological continuity gives us survival, not identity. (1971) However, if we are not advocating the Cartesian Ego, then in the same way we say that Mars-person does not have Earth-person's body we also say the former does not have the latter's memories, beliefs, dispositions and all such mental events. If psychological continuity is not a purely mental substance, then such mental events are destroyed on Earth, and what we get are new memories, beliefs and dispositions on Mars that are similar to the ones of old. Thinking back to the billiard balls, the case in which we paint one, if I were to destroy that one, and grab the other ball and paint it the same color, that is not the color from before, it is in fact a new coat of paint similar to the other ball's color. In every way possible we have two different entities. When it was mentioned above how, alone, neither the body nor mental events suffice for personal identity, the error is in thinking that when one fails, the other fails in isolation from it. Given that reductionism suggests that facts about personal identity consists in the holding of certain more particular facts, if we do not believe in the Cartesian Ego, then facts about mental events hold in facts about the brain.
Equating mental events with brain states troubles some in the same way that identifying reductionism does. Descartes', as well as Plato's, influence has survived many centuries as some of us are inclined to believe, without evidence, that a person's existence is more than just physical. U.T. Place suggests that believing that mental events, or consciousness as a mental event, occur as something separate from the body is a logical mistake he calls the “phenomenological fallacy”. (Place 1956) The fallacy occurs when one believes that when he describes his experience, how things, via the senses, feel to himself, he believes he is describing the literal properties of objects. Place uses the example of clouds: when we see an object in the sky that looks white and puffy we say, “I see clouds.” We do not say, “I see a mass of tiny particles in suspension.” If one were to go into deep conscious introspection, there is nothing that one could do that would reveal the passage of nerve impulses and synapses, so one's experience of the introspection must be of something different from nerves and synapses. Place claims the literal description informs us of how the environment must be in order for one to experience a 'cloud'. In the same way, our literal description of the brain enables us to know the way our body must be in order to have conscious experiences: it's only because the brain is functioning in such a way that I'm able to have conscious experience. Thus, when we are speaking of our conscious experience, we are not speaking of something distinct from the brain, but rather, we are referring to a process of the brain.
Conclusion
It's unclear whether Parfit, in his teletransportation experiment, stipulates that Mars-person is psychologically continuous with Earth-person due to the replicated brain, or because mental events persist past the absence of the body. He does, though, state that it is the brain that gets transplanted in the “A=B” example. (1971) Claiming that a person is distinct from a person's body and mental events, but exists by consisting in them, is more an issue of language according to Parfit. The reality of the matter is that there is no teletransportation, but the experiment is meant to draw out our beliefs on the issue of personal identity. In everyday life, Parfit believes the question of whether the person I am today will be the same person that exists tomorrow is not about different possibilities; there is only a single possibility or outcome. (1995) Instead, the matter is about different possible descriptions of the outcome (think back to Parfit's example of facts about trees). Parfit proposes that if we have all the facts concerning personal identity, then questions on the matter are really questions about language.
I agree with Parfit, that the matter is really more about language if all the facts are in. The problem is not with proposing that a person is distinct from a person's body and mental events. Constitutive reductionism holds that a person is not a further, independently obtaining fact, but our body coupled with our mental events is considered a 'person'. My concern is that constitutive reductionism implies that which a person consists in is some further fact. If we do not believe in the Cartesian Ego, then Parfit is wrong to dismiss identifying reductionism. Mental events are destroyed in the same way the body is, and this can only be if the mental events are physical. Given the two components that Parfit believes a person to consist in are the body and mental events, identifying reductionism conceives mental events as a brain process, and thus what we really have is a person is an entity that consists in a body, which just consist in its various physical parts.




References
1. Descartes, Rene. “The Passions Of the Soul”. In Chalmers, David, Philosophy Of Mind (p. 21). Oxford University Press.
2. Parfit, David. (1971). “Personal Identity”. The Philosophical Review 80 (p. 3-27)
3. Parfit, David. (1995). “Reductionism and Personal Identity”. In Chalmers, David, Philosophy Of Mind (p. 655). Oxford University Press.
4. Place, U.T. (1956) From British Journal of Psychology 47 (p. 44-50)
5. Russell, Bertrand. “Is there a God?”
6. Shoemaker, David W. (2002). “The Irrelevance/Incoherence of Non-Reductionism About Personal Identity”. Philo 5 (2):143-160.
(motion picture). Newmark Capital Group.7. Todd, Jennifer; Todd, Suzanne (Producers); Nolan, Christopher (Director). 2001.