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The Shattered Identity
by: Sam Vaknin
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.
About The Author
Sam Vaknin is the author of Malignant Self Love - Narcissism
Revisited and After the Rain - How the West Lost the East. He is
a columnist for Central Europe Review, PopMatters, and eBookWeb
, a United Press International (UPI) Senior Business
Correspondent, and the editor of mental health and Central East
Europe categories in The Open Directory Bellaonline, and
Suite101 .
Until recently, he served as the Economic Advisor to the
Government of Macedonia.
Visit Sam's Web site at
http://samvak.tripod.com
palma@unet.com.mk |
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