Death With Dignity[1]
It happened again today. While I was
giving a lecture on symbolism in Hawthorne’s “Young Goodman Brown,” I could not
recall the name of Goodman Brown’s wife. I stood in front of my class and
stumbled through the dark corridors of my mind trying to recall a fact that I
had discussed hundreds of times. These episodes of memory loss are becoming
increasingly frequent, and they affect more than just my ability to teach. My
family has felt the brunt of the frustration I feel when I cannot recall simple
everyday facts. Despite constant urging from friends and family I have refused
to seek medical attention; however, after my experience today, I know I must
seek medical advice, so tomorrow I have an appointment with a neurologist.
The results from the various medical tests
showed conclusively that I am suffering from a neurological disorder that
causes short and long term memory loss, and unpredictable mood swings. The
prognosis is not good. Currently, there are no known medical treatments to
reverse the effects of the disease ravaging my mind. The doctor offered two
courses of treatment, both of which have advantages and disadvantages. The
first option is a newly approved experimental serum that would halt the
progress of the disease for one to three years, after which I would decline
into debilitating dementia in short order. The second options is to undergo a
procedure that would upload an exact copy of my brain into a robot, but in the
process the brain in my human body would be destroyed. Before deciding which course
of treatment is best for me and my family, I have embarked on a research
project of epic proportions. I have researched and considered issues, such as
will my personal identity survive, how important is my physical body to me, and
perhaps most importantly how will my decision effect my family. As a result of
my research, I have decided to undergo the destructive upload procedure because
it will allow me to die with dignity and subject my family to the least amount
of grief.
At first glance, I was against the
destructive upload procedure because it would extend my life indefinitely, and
that is not what I want. However, in his book Intelligence Unbound, Russell Blackford states that it is possible
that “taking part in the uploading procedure would not be a way of obtaining
extended life, but actually a high-tech way of committing suicide” ( n.p.). I
do not want to continue living in my degraded mental state, and I do not want
to burden my family with the responsibility of taking care of me after the
effects of the experimental serum wear off. The ideal situation would be to
find a method to end my life while providing some consolation to my friends and
family. Because it is not acceptable to me to live with these symptoms, the
destructive upload procedure provides just such an opportunity. I will be dead,
but a version of me will live on in the robot and will assuage my family’s
grief to some extent. But, if the robot resembles me in physical appearance and
has a brain that is an exact replica of my organic brain, then how is the robot
not me? What part of me dies in the upload procedure?
My personal identity is inextricably
connected to the physical organic body I occupy. In the uploading process, my
organic brain is destroyed; as a result, my organic body dies. Raymond
Kurzweil, an acclaimed inventor and futurist, explains this concept by first
examining a scenario where an exact copy of a person is created while the
person is still alive. In that scenario, even if one assumes that all of person
A's memories and thought processes are transferred to person B, one would not
assert that they are the same person. Building on this scenario, Kurzweil
explains that “if we copy me and then destroy the original, that’s the end of
me” (384). Additionally, an integral component of my personal identity is being
human. Humans are mortal; they get old and die. They get diseases and die. They
are involved in accidents that result in death. They have physical and mental
limitations. The robot will not be subject to any of these human limitations.
In most respects, the robot will be better than me. It will be stronger,
smarter, and potentially immortal. Because the robot would not be susceptible
to human limitations, it would not encompass an essential part of my personal
identity. However, my family may find solace in the fact that some part of me
lives on. The robot could provide my family with new experiences, comfort, and
companionship. Because the robot will be stronger, smarter, and immune from
human diseases, it will be able to provide economic security, protection, and
companionship to my family after my death. Because the robot will not be human,
and because being human is a vital component of being me, the robot will not
encapsulate enough of my personal identity to be me. While my physical body is
a key component of my personal identity, my personality is also a fundamental
part of who I am.
As described above, the upload
procedure will strip away a vital component of my personal identity, but if my
personality survives and is embodied in the robot, doesn’t that mean that I am
still alive just in another body? Kurzweil provides an important insight into
the question when he states “We should point out that a person’s personality
and skills do not reside only in the brain” (200). The robot will contain an
exact copy of my brain, but it will not consist of a precise copy of the rest
of my body. As Kurzweil observes “Our nervous system extends throughout the
body, and the endocrine (hormonal system has an influence, as well” (200), an
exact replica of the brain will not produce the same person because the robot
will not contain true versions of my original internal systems. The nervous and
hormonal systems throughout my body control how I respond to situations. With
that component of my personality missing, the robot will be composed of nothing
more than a collection of my memories and experiences, which is not enough of
me to claim that I would survive the upload procedure. Just as my human body is
a vital part of who I am, my personality is also key to being me. Not only will
I lose the physical component of my personal identity, but also I will lose the
very essence of self in the destructive upload procedure because my personality
will be extinguished. The result will be a facsimile of me, but it will not be
me because it will not be composed of any of the important aspects that make me
unique. In the upload procedure, my identity will die, but it will be seamless
thereby allowing me to cease to exist in the least torturous manner possible
while allowing me to experience the final moments of my life without worrying
about my family’s future. As with anything in life, assuming the upload
procedure will kill me is a gamble. Perhaps, the robot will contain just enough
of me that I will survive the upload procedure. I would be trapped in a body
that is not mine with an altered personality.
There is an argument to be made that
it is possible that the copy of my brain installed in the computer will create
the same mind that is in my human body. However, according to Patrick D.
Hopkins in his article “Why Uploading Will Not Work,” personal identity is not
a substance that can be moved around. We can not hold personal identity in our
hands, and we can not point to a specific place in the brain that my personal
identity occupies. Hopkins uses the example of copying a page out of a book.
One would not claim that the copy is the same thing as the original, even if it
has all the molecular properties of the original. To sum up his argument,
Hopkins states “If the criticisms presented here are correct however, uploading
may be technically possible but will not accomplish what we want it to
accomplish. It will create new minds exactly similar to other minds, but will
not save anyone's life” (1-14). Given all the research on the subject, I am
confident that I will not survive the destructive uploading process, but
instead I will die in a peaceful manner that will leave my family with a
reasonable duplicate of me that will meet many of their needs.
In the end, the question of which
course of treatment to undergo was a fairly simple one. Given the life I lead
as an educator, it is unacceptable to me to live with the current symptoms.
Furthermore, I place a high value on the comfort and well-being of my family.
They do not deserve to be subjected to my continued frustration, nor do they
deserve to be forced to care for me once the disease progresses. During the
destructive upload procedure, everything that is me will die. A new better
version of me will be created that will be able to assist my family, and it
will allow them to feel that a part of me lives on.
Works
Cited
Blackford,
Russell, and Damien Broderick.
Intelligence Unbound: The Future of Uploaded and Machine Minds. New York: John Wiley & Sons, 2014. Web
Accessed. 21 Apr. 2014.
Hopkins,
Patrick D. “Why Uploading Will Not Work, Or, The Ghosts Haunting
Transhumanists.” International Journal of Machine Consciousness 4.1 (2012): 1-14.
Web. 21 Apr. 2015.
Kurzweil,
Raymond. The Singularity is Near: When
Humans Transcend Biology. New York: Penguin
Books, 2005. Print.
[1]
Thanks to Clint Carpenter, Taylor Faulkenberry, Regina King, and Adrianna for
help with this paper.
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