Who Am I?

“Who am I?” stands as one of the iconic questions of philosophy, alongside “What is the meaning of life?” and “Is there a God?”

Philosophers throughout history have addressed this question. Rene Descartes suggested that our mind and thoughts are our true identity. John Locke’s criterion for personal identity was self-consciousness, which is the ability to reflect upon yourself. For Locke, possessing memories is what makes you certain of who you are. David Hume dismissed notions of having a “self,” arguing that what we think of as “the self” is nothing more than a bundle of perceptions. We take these perceptions and recombine them into meaning and substance based on our previous experience.

So who am I? I’ve had several jobs, but do any of those jobs define me? I am a white male with blue eyes and brown hair that’s now mostly white. I’m 6 feet tall. I like basketball, pro wrestling, and martial arts. I’m from Chicago. I have a bachelor’s degree in theology and philosophy. I play the guitar. I make music videos and sometimes dress like lobster.

Do any of these things tell you who I am? I looked up “self” on Dictionary.com, and found this definition: “The essential qualities distinguishing one person from another; individuality.” If that’s what the “self” or the “who” of a person is, then there is no “who.” What “essential qualities” does anyone possess that other people don’t possess? What is it about “me” that makes “me” so distinguishable from “you”? Maybe David Hume is right after all, and the notion of “self” is silly.

Then I found these definitions of “self” on Dictionary.com: “The total, essential, or particular being of a person; the individual“; and, “One’s consciousness of one’s own being or identity; the ego.”

Perhaps “who” I am is the total of all my different “whats” – everything I listed above and everything else I didn’t list. Maybe “I” am the result of that combination. And as the total combination of “whats” changes, so do I.

The pre-Socratic philosopher Heraclitus believed all things are in flux, like the river (Plato ascribes to Heraclitus the view that “you cannot step twice into the same river.”): ever changing, yet preserving an identity through the changes. And all things are in continuous exchange. Similar to this idea of a “continuous exchange,” Mahayana Buddhist philosophy claims that all things are “conditioned,” not autonomous, but dependent upon other things for its being.

Nāgārjuna, an Indian monk, philosopher and mystic, and the founder of the Madhyamaka school of Buddhism, equates emptiness (i.e., nothing is ontologically autonomous) with the Buddhist principle of Conditioned Arising.

The doctrine of Conditioned Arising states the principle of conditionality, that all things, mental and physical, arise and exist due to the presence of certain conditions, and cease once their conditions are removed. Nothing is independent. German philosopher Martin Heidegger said Dasein (the “Being” or the “me”) is thrown into a context, among others, most often lost in “everydayness,” coping with existence and thus being “in a mood.”

Perhaps the “who” of “who I am” is, as Locke suggested, this consciousness I have as well. I am aware of my existence. I am aware of all (or at least many) of the “whats” that have made me the way I am. I know I exist, because I am aware, I can think. “Cogito, ergo sum” (“I think, therefore I am”), said Descartes. If I didn’t exist, there would be no “I” to think and say things like “If I didn’t exist…”

Perhaps “who I am” is the culmination of all of my experiences and sensations, both imagined and real; what some would call the soul.

Do I have any control over who I am – do I have any choice – or am I nothing more than the product of these conditions? I’m inclined (conditioned?) to think that the “free will versus determinism” debate is pointless. If determinism is true, then each of us is predisposed to believe what each of us believes due to the conditions and antecedent states of affairs that have determined everything about the individual. Any debate, then, would not involve people who use reason to choose what they ought to believe, but rather people who are the results of whatever stimuli made them that way.

Christopher Hitchens once remarked: “When I’m asked if we have free will I always have the same response: of course we do, we have no choice.”

Humans behave and act under the assumption of volition anyway. A will (however “free” it may or may not be) seems intuitively right to assume (at least to me). No, I can’t prove it. I can’t prove determinism either. At the very least it’s pragmatic: if I believe I can choose good from bad, right from wrong, true from false, then that may be a stimulus or condition itself that will push me towards actually being a better, more peaceful, more compassionate, more productive member of society. If I indeed have a say in it, all the better.

One might be tempted to argue that, if “who I am” is based on the particular conditions of my context, then perhaps I shouldn’t be blamed or judged for what I do. If I am a murderer, for example, then it must be due to the conditions which made me arise into a murderer. There is little onus to refrain from murder in such a view. Heidegger saw Dasein also as projecting potentialities for Being. For example, I view myself in the future as a successful martial arts instructor. I am “directing my existence” towards that goal. Better for all of us if we direct our existence towards “the good” and away from “the bad.”

I believe we have a will, or volition. I don’t know how “free” it is. I know that much – if not most – of “who I am” is the result of causes, conditions and a context I did not choose. But that’s not to suggest that I have no say over what I make of myself. I believe certain conditions led to Michael Jordan’s incredible success in basketball – conditions over which MJ had no control. But I also believe he chose to work with what he had. So we can look to his career as a basketball player as a model of how to live, but not turn him into an idol. Mike should be proud of what he did, but not too proud. I suspect he would not have had the same success in the NBA had he been born blind or missing a limb.

Who am I? Answering that question feels like trying to step into Heraclitus’ river. The answer I give today might be different than the answer I give tomorrow. Bruce Lee taught that we should “be like water.” Perhaps our identity is best understood as a state of flowing potential, adaptable and evolving, moving and shifting. All the “whats” that make me who I am swirl about constantly, shifting, turning, their influence and impact differing in degree and intensity depending on the moment and contingent upon how all the other “whats” interact with each other and respond to the constant influx of new “whats” introduced to the context of who I am.

We are water: a river ever flowing, ever changing, ever molded and conditioned by our context, yet constant and clearly recognizable: preserving an identity through the changes. This is why I follow the maxim, “the path is the goal.” I want to keep flowing and enjoy the ride. But more on that later.

Now here’s some LOBSTEP…