Books: Moral Deliberations in Modern Cinema
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Sam Vaknin >> Moral Deliberations in Modern Cinema
Yet, the two concepts are often confused because they are both
mediated by and reside on computers. The computer is a self-contained
(though not closed) Universe. It incorporates the hardware, the data
and the instructions for the manipulation of the data (software). It
is, therefore, by definition, a virtual reality. It is versatile and
can correlate its reality with the world outside. But it can also
refrain from doing so. This is the ominous "what if" in artificial
intelligence (AI). What if a computer were to refuse to correlate its
internal (virtual) reality with the reality of its makers? What if it
were to impose its own reality on us and make it the privileged one?
In the visually tantalizing movie, "The Matrix", a breed of AI
computers takes over the world. It harvests human embryos in
laboratories called "fields". It then feeds them through grim looking
tubes and keeps them immersed in gelatinous liquid in cocoons. This
new "machine species" derives its energy needs from the electricity
produced by the billions of human bodies thus preserved. A
sophisticated, all-pervasive, computer program called "The Matrix"
generates a "world" inhabited by the consciousness of the unfortunate
human batteries. Ensconced in their shells, they see themselves
walking, talking, working and making love. This is a tangible and
olfactory phantasm masterfully created by the Matrix. Its computing
power is mind boggling. It generates the minutest details and reams of
data in a spectacularly successful effort to maintain the illusion.
A group of human miscreants succeeds to learn the secret of the
Matrix. They form an underground and live aboard a ship, loosely
communicating with a halcyon city called "Zion", the last bastion of
resistance. In one of the scenes, Cypher, one of the rebels defects.
Over a glass of (illusory) rubicund wine and (spectral) juicy steak,
he poses the main dilemma of the movie. Is it better to live happily
in a perfectly detailed delusion - or to survive unhappily but free of
its hold?
The Matrix controls the minds of all the humans in the world. It is a
bridge between them, they inter-connected through it. It makes them
share the same sights, smells and textures. They remember. They
compete. They make decisions.
The Matrix is sufficiently complex to allow for this apparent lack of
determinism and ubiquity of free will. The root question is: is there
any difference between making decisions and feeling certain of making
them (not having made them)? If one is unaware of the existence of the
Matrix, the answer is no. From the inside, as a part of the Matrix,
making decisions and appearing to be making them are identical states.
Only an outside observer - one who in possession of full information
regarding both the Matrix and the humans - can tell the difference.
Moreover, if the Matrix were a computer program of infinite
complexity, no observer (finite or infinite) would have been able to
say with any certainty whose a decision was - the Matrix's or the
human's. And because the Matrix, for all intents and purposes, is
infinite compared to the mind of any single, tube-nourished,
individual - it is safe to say that the states of "making a decision"
and "appearing to be making a decision" are subjectively
indistinguishable. No individual within the Matrix would be able to
tell the difference. His or her life would seem to him or her as real
as ours are to us. The Matrix may be deterministic - but this
determinism is inaccessible to individual minds because of the
complexity involved. When faced with a trillion deterministic paths,
one would be justified to feel that he exercised free, unconstrained
will in choosing one of them. Free will and determinism are
indistinguishable at a certain level of complexity.
Yet, we KNOW that the Matrix is different to our world. It is NOT the
same. This is an intuitive kind of knowledge, for sure, but this does
not detract from its firmness. If there is no subjective difference
between the Matrix and our Universe, there must be an objective one.
Another key sentence is uttered by Morpheus, the leader of the rebels.
He says to "The Chosen One" (the Messiah) that it is really the year
2199, though the Matrix gives the impression that it is 1999.
This is where the Matrix and reality diverge. Though a human who would
experience both would find them indistinguishable - objectively they
are different. In one of them (the Matrix), people have no objective
TIME (though the Matrix might have it). The other (reality) is
governed by it.
Under the spell of the Matrix, people feel as though time goes by.
They have functioning watches. The sun rises and sets. Seasons change.
They grow old and die. This is not entirely an illusion. Their bodies
do decay and die, as ours do. They are not exempt from the laws of
nature. But their AWARENESS of time is computer generated. The Matrix
is sufficiently sophisticated and knowledgeable to maintain a close
correlation between the physical state of the human (his health and
age) and his consciousness of the passage of time. The basic rules of
time - for instance, its asymmetry - are part of the program.
But this is precisely it. Time in the minds of these people is
program-generated, not reality-induced. It is not the derivative of
change and irreversible (thermodynamic and other) processes OUT THERE.
Their minds are part of a computer program and the computer program is
a part of their minds.
Their bodies are static, degenerating in their protective nests.
Nothing happens to them except in their minds. They have no physical
effect on the world. They effect no change. These things set the
Matrix and reality apart.
To "qualify" as reality a two-way interaction must occur. One flow of
data is when reality influences the minds of people (as does the
Matrix). The obverse, but equally necessary, type of data flow is when
people know reality and influence it. The Matrix triggers a time
sensation in people the same way that the Universe triggers a time
sensation in us. Something does happen OUT THERE and it is called the
Matrix. In this sense, the Matrix is real, it is the reality of these
humans. It maintains the requirement of the first type of flow of
data. But it fails the second test: people do not know that it exists
or any of its attributes, nor do they affect it irreversibly. They do
not change the Matrix. Paradoxically, the rebels do affect the Matrix
(they almost destroy it). In doing so, they make it REAL. It is their
REALITY because they KNOW it and they irreversibly CHANGE it.
Applying this dual-track test, "virtual" reality IS a reality, albeit,
at this stage, of a deterministic type. It affects our minds, we know
that it exists and we affect it in return. Our choices and actions
irreversibly alter the state of the system. This altered state, in
turn, affects our minds. This interaction IS what we call "reality".
With the advent of stochastic and quantum virtual reality generators -
the distinction between "real" and "virtual" will fade. The Matrix
thus is not impossible. But that it is possible - does not make it
real.
The Shattered Identity
By: Sam Vaknin
Read these essays first:
The Habitual Identity
Death, Meaning, and Identity
Fact and Truth
Dreams - The Metaphors of Mind
I. Exposition
In the movie "Shattered" (1991), Dan Merrick survives an accident and
develops total amnesia regarding his past. His battered face is
reconstructed by plastic surgeons and, with the help of his loving
wife, he gradually recovers his will to live. But he never develops a
proper sense of identity. It is as though he is constantly ill at ease
in his own body. As the plot unravels, Dan is led to believe that he
may have murdered his wife's lover, Jack. This thriller offers
additional twists and turns but, throughout it all, we face this
question:
Dan has no recollection of being Dan. Dan does not remember murdering
Jack. It seems as though Dan's very identity has been erased. Yet, Dan
is in sound mind and can tell right from wrong. Should Dan be held
(morally and, as a result, perhaps legally as well) accountable for
Jack's murder?
Would the answer to this question still be the same had Dan erased
from his memory ONLY the crime -but recalled everything else (in an
act of selective dissociation)? Do our moral and legal accountability
and responsibility spring from the integrity of our memories? If Dan
were to be punished for a crime he doesn't have the faintest
recollection of committing - wouldn't he feel horribly wronged?
Wouldn't he be justified in feeling so?
There are many states of consciousness that involve dissociation and
selective amnesia: hypnosis, trance and possession, hallucination,
illusion, memory disorders (like organic, or functional amnesia),
depersonalization disorder, dissociative fugue, dreaming, psychosis,
post traumatic stress disorder, and drug-induced psychotomimetic
states.
Consider this, for instance:
What if Dan were the victim of a Multiple Personality Disorder (now
known as "Dissociative Identity Disorder")? What if one of his
"alters" (i.e., one of the multitude of "identities" sharing Dan's
mind and body) committed the crime? Should Dan still be held
responsible? What if the alter "John" committed the crime and then
"vanished", leaving behind another alter (let us say, "Joseph") in
control?
Should "Joseph" be held responsible for the crime "John" committed?
What if "John" were to reappear 10 years after he "vanished"? What if
he were to reappear 50 years after he "vanished"? What if he were to
reappear for a period of 90 days - only to "vanish" again? And what is
Dan's role in all this? Who, exactly, then, is Dan?
II. Who is Dan?
Buddhism compares Man to a river. Both retain their identity despite
the fact that their individual composition is different at different
moments. The possession of a body as the foundation of a self-identity
is a dubious proposition. Bodies change drastically in time (consider
a baby compared to an adult). Almost all the cells in a human body are
replaced every few years. Changing one's brain (by transplantation) -
also changes one's identity, even if the rest of the body remains the
same.
Thus, the only thing that binds a "person" together (i.e., gives him a
self and an identity) is time, or, more precisely, memory. By "memory"
I also mean: personality, skills, habits, retrospected emotions - in
short: all long term imprints and behavioural patterns. The body is
not an accidental and insignificant container, of course. It
constitutes an important part of one's self-image, self-esteem, sense
of self-worth, and sense of existence (spatial, temporal, and social).
But one can easily imagine a brain in vitro as having the same
identity as when it resided in a body. One cannot imagine a body
without a brain (or with a different brain) as having the same
identity it had before the brain was removed or replaced.
What if the brain in vitro (in the above example) could not
communicate with us at all? Would we still think it is possessed of a
self? The biological functions of people in coma are maintained. But
do they have an identity, a self? If yes, why do we "pull the plug" on
them so often?
It would seem (as it did to Locke) that we accept that someone has a
self-identity if: (a) He has the same hardware as we do (notably, a
brain) and (b) He communicates his humanly recognizable and
comprehensible inner world to us and manipulates his environment. We
accept that he has a given (i.e., the same continuous) self-identity
if (c) He shows consistent intentional (i.e., willed) patterns
("memory") in doing (b) for a long period of time.
It seems that we accept that we have a self-identity (i.e., we are
self-conscious) if (a) We discern (usually through introspection) long
term consistent intentional (i.e., willed) patterns ("memory") in our
manipulation ("relating to") of our environment and (b) Others accept
that we have a self-identity (Herbert Mead, Feuerbach).
Dan (probably) has the same hardware as we do (a brain). He
communicates his (humanly recognizable and comprehensible) inner world
to us (which is how he manipulates us and his environment). Thus, Dan
clearly has a self-identity. But he is inconsistent. His intentional
(willed) patterns, his memory, are incompatible with those
demonstrated by Dan before the accident. Though he clearly is
possessed of a self-identity, we cannot say that he has the SAME
self-identity he possessed before the crash. In other words, we cannot
say that he, indeed, is Dan.
Dan himself does not feel that he has a self-identity at all. He
discerns intentional (willed) patterns in his manipulation of his
environment but, due to his amnesia, he cannot tell if these are
consistent, or long term. In other words, Dan has no memory. Moreover,
others do not accept him as Dan (or have their doubts) because they
have no memory of Dan as he is now.
Interim conclusion:
Having a memory is a necessary and sufficient condition for possessing
a self-identity.
III. Repression
Yet, resorting to memory to define identity may appear to be a
circular (even tautological) argument. When we postulate memory -
don't we already presuppose the existence of a "remembering agent"
with an established self-identity?
Moreover, we keep talking about "discerning", "intentional", or
"willed" patterns. But isn't a big part of our self (in the form of
the unconscious, full of repressed memories) unavailable to us? Don't
we develop defence mechanisms against repressed memories and
fantasies, against unconscious content incongruent with our
self-image? Even worse, this hidden, inaccessible, dynamically active
part of our self is thought responsible for our recurrent discernible
patterns of behaviour. The phenomenon of posthypnotic suggestion seems
to indicate that this may be the case. The existence of a
self-identity is, therefore, determined through introspection (by
oneself) and observation (by others) of merely the conscious part of
the self.
But the unconscious is as much a part of one's self-identity as one's
conscious. What if, due to a mishap, the roles were reversed? What if
Dan's conscious part were to become his unconscious and his
unconscious part - his conscious? What if all his conscious memories,
drives, fears, wishes, fantasies, and hopes - were to become
unconscious while his repressed memories, drives, etc. - were to
become conscious? Would we still say that it is "the same" Dan and
that he retains his self-identity? Not very likely. And yet, one's
(unremembered) unconscious - for instance, the conflict between id and
ego - determines one's personality and self-identity.
The main contribution of psychoanalysis and later psychodynamic
schools is the understanding that self-identity is a dynamic,
evolving, ever-changing construct - and not a static, inertial, and
passive entity. It casts doubt over the meaningfulness of the question
with which we ended the exposition: "Who, exactly, then, is Dan?" Dan
is different at different stages of his life (Erikson) and he
constantly evolves in accordance with his innate nature (Jung), past
history (Adler), drives (Freud), cultural milieu (Horney), upbringing
(Klein, Winnicott), needs (Murray), or the interplay with his genetic
makeup. Dan is not a thing - he is a process. Even Dan's personality
traits and cognitive style, which may well be stable, are often
influenced by Dan's social setting and by his social interactions.
It would seem that having a memory is a necessary but insufficient
condition for possessing a self-identity. One cannot remember one's
unconscious states (though one can remember their outcomes). One often
forgets events, names, and other information even if it was conscious
at a given time in one's past. Yet, one's (unremembered) unconscious
is an integral and important part of one's identity and one's self.
The remembered as well as the unremembered constitute one's
self-identity.
IV. The Memory Link
Hume said that to be considered in possession of a mind, a creature
needs to have a few states of consciousness linked by memory in a kind
of narrative or personal mythology. Can this conjecture be equally
applied to unconscious mental states (e.g. subliminal perceptions,
beliefs, drives, emotions, desires, etc.)?
In other words, can we rephrase Hume and say that to be considered in
possession of a mind, a creature needs to have a few states of
consciousness and a few states of the unconscious - all linked by
memory into a personal narrative? Isn't it a contradiction in terms to
remember the unconscious?
The unconscious and the subliminal are instance of the general
category of mental phenomena which are not states of consciousness
(i.e., are not conscious). Sleep and hypnosis are two others. But so
are "background mental phenomena" - e.g., one holds onto one's beliefs
and knowledge even when one is not aware (conscious) of them at every
given moment.
We know that an apple will fall towards the earth, we know how to
drive a car ("automatically"), and we believe that the sun will rise
tomorrow, even though we do not spend every second of our waking life
consciously thinking about falling apples, driving cars, or the
position of the sun.
Yet, the fact that knowledge and beliefs and other background mental
phenomena are not constantly conscious - does not mean that they
cannot be remembered. They can be remembered either by an act of will,
or in (sometimes an involuntary) response to changes in the
environment. The same applies to all other unconscious content.
Unconscious content can be recalled. Psychoanalysis, for instance, is
about re-introducing repressed unconscious content to the patient's
conscious memory and thus making it "remembered".
In fact, one's self-identity may be such a background mental
phenomenon (always there, not always conscious, not always
remembered). The acts of will which bring it to the surface are what
we call "memory" and "introspection".
This would seem to imply that having a self-identity is independent of
having a memory (or the ability to introspect). Memory is just the
mechanism by which one becomes aware of one's background, "always-on",
and omnipresent (all-pervasive) self-identity. Self-identity is the
object and predicate of memory and introspection. It is as though
self-identity were an emergent extensive parameter of the complex
human system - measurable by the dual techniques of memory and
introspection.
We, therefore, have to modify our previous conclusions:
Having a memory is not a necessary nor a sufficient condition for
possessing a self-identity.
We are back to square one. The poor souls in Oliver Sacks' tome, "The
Man Who Mistook his Wife for a Hat" are unable to create and retain
memories. They occupy an eternal present, with no past. They are thus
unable to access (or invoke) their self-identity by remembering it.
Their self-identity is unavailable to them (though it is available to
those who observe them over many years) - but it exists for sure.
Therapy often succeeds in restoring pre-amnesiac memories and
self-identity.
V. The Incorrigible Self
Self-identity is not only always-on and all-pervasive - but also
incorrigible. In other words, no one - neither an observer, nor the
person himself - can "disprove" the existence of his self-identity. No
one can prove that a report about the existence of his (or another's)
self-identity is mistaken.
Is it equally safe to say that no one - neither an observer, nor the
person himself - can prove (or disprove) the non-existence of his
self-identity? Would it be correct to say that no one can prove that a
report about the non-existence of his (or another's) self-identity is
true or false?
Dan's criminal responsibility crucially depends on the answers to
these questions. Dan cannot be held responsible for Jack's murder if
he can prove that he is ignorant of the facts of his action (i.e., if
he can prove the non-existence of his self-identity). If he has no
access to his (former) self-identity - he can hardly be expected to be
aware and cognizant of these facts.
What is in question is not Dan's mens rea, nor the application of the
McNaghten tests (did Dan know the nature and quality of his act or
could he tell right from wrong) to determine whether Dan was insane
when he committed the crime. A much broader issue is at stake: is it
the same person? Is the murderous Dan the same person as the current
Dan? Even though Dan seems to own the same body and brain and is
manifestly sane - he patently has no access to his (former)
self-identity. He has changed so drastically that it is arguable
whether he is still the same person - he has been "replaced".
Finally, we can try to unite all the strands of our discourse into
this double definition:
It would seem that we accept that someone has a self-identity if: (a)
He has the same hardware as we do (notably, a brain) and, by
implication, the same software as we do (an all-pervasive, omnipresent
self-identity) and (b) He communicates his humanly recognizable and
comprehensible inner world to us and manipulates his environment. We
accept that he has a specific (i.e., the same continuous)
self-identity if (c) He shows consistent intentional (i.e., willed)
patterns ("memory") in doing (b) for a long period of time.
It seems that we accept that we have a specific self-identity (i.e.,
we are self-conscious of a specific identity) if (a) We discern
(usually through memory and introspection) long term consistent
intentional (i.e., willed) patterns ("memory") in our manipulation
("relating to") of our environment and (b) Others accept that we have
a specific self-identity.
In conclusion: Dan undoubtedly has a self-identity (being human and,
thus, endowed with a brain). Equally undoubtedly, this self-identity
is not Dan's (but a new, unfamiliar, one).
Such is the stuff of our nightmares - body snatching, demonic
possession, waking up in a strange place, not knowing who we are.
Without a continuous personal history - we are not. It is what binds
our various bodies, states of mind, memories, skills, emotions, and
cognitions - into a coherent bundle of identity. Dan speaks, drinks,
dances, talks, and makes love - but throughout that time, he is not
present because he does not remember Dan and how it is to be Dan. He
may have murdered Jake - but, by all philosophical and ethical
criteria, it was most definitely not his fault.
Titanic, or a Moral Deliberation
By: Sam Vaknin
The film "Titanic" is riddled with moral dilemmas. In one of the
scenes, the owner of Star Line, the shipping company that owned the
now-sinking Unsinkable, joins a lowered life-boat. The tortured
expression on his face demonstrates that even he experiences more than
unease at his own conduct. Prior to the disaster, he instructs the
captain to adopt a policy dangerous to the ship. Indeed, it proves
fatal. A complicating factor was the fact that only women and children
were allowed by the officers in charge into the lifeboats. Another was
the discrimination against Third Class passengers. The boats sufficed
only to half the number of those on board and the First Class, High
Society passengers were preferred over the Low-Life immigrants under
deck.
Why do we all feel that the owner should have stayed on and faced his
inevitable death? Because we judge him responsible for the demise of
the ship. Additionally, his wrong instructions - motivated by greed
and the pursuit of celebrity - were a crucial contributing factor. The
owner should have been punished (in his future) for things that he has
done (in his past). This is intuitively appealing.
Would we have rendered the same judgement had the Titanic's fate been
the outcome of accident and accident alone? If the owner of the ship
could have had no control over the circumstances of its horrible
ending - would we have still condemned him for saving his life? Less
severely, perhaps. So, the fact that a moral entity has ACTED (or
omitted, or refrained from acting) in its past is essential in
dispensing with future rewards or punishments.
The "product liability" approach also fits here. The owner (and his
"long arms": manufacturer, engineers, builders, etc.) of the Titanic
were deemed responsible because they implicitly contracted with their
passengers. They made a representation (which was explicit in their
case but is implicit in most others): "This ship was constructed with
knowledge and forethought. The best design was employed to avoid
danger. The best materials to increase pleasure." That the Titanic
sank was an irreversible breach of this contract. In a way, it was an
act of abrogation of duties and obligations. The owner/manufacturer of
a product must compensate the consumers should his product harm them
in any manner that they were not explicitly, clearly, visibly and
repeatedly warned against. Moreover, he should even make amends if the
product failed to meet the reasonable and justified expectations of
consumers, based on such warrants and representations. The payment
should be either in kind (as in more ancient justice systems) or in
cash (as in modern Western civilization).