The Ship of Theseus Paradox

Dear Little Sister,
I'm so sorry I didn't write you last week, but I assumed we would see each other, so I thought I shouldn't, and yeah, that didn't turn out the right way. Oops. And I'm sorry again that I didn't ask you about a specific prompt or issue today, but that one has a better explanation, I hope.
     I decided that there's something you should hear that you would probably never think to ask for. It's a common..."issue" isn't the right word, "concern" maybe? "Thought exercise" is close, but it's more existential than that.... It's a common questiony, self-pondering thing that I think almost all people experience in their lives, especially after such a life-altering experience like serving a mission. It's something both Konrie and I have discussed multiple times, and recently, I discovered a classic philosophical paradox that actually addresses it! The other reason I'm doing this is because I wanted to explain it to a friend of mine yesterday, but we ran out of time. So here's to you too, Megan! It's called the Ship of Theseus Paradox.

     It goes like this: once upon a time, there was a ship. When it was first built, it was beautiful and functional and everything a ship should be. But as time went on, the ship got older and started to decay. Not wanting to lose such a jewel of craftsmanship (see what I did there?), a project was undertaken to restore the vessel to its original glory, replacing all of the boards, oars, the helm, the mast, the rudder, etc. with newer, sturdier pieces. After all of these changes, however, they had to pose a question: is it still fundamentally the same ship? Is it still the Ship of Theseus, or do the new parts make it a new ship altogether? There are more questions like this: if an ax has had its head and handle each replaced seven times, is it still the same ax? If a car get its engine, rims, paint job, seats, transmission, and muffler redone, is it still the same car? There are obviously two main sides here, yes and no, but no matter what you initially think, it's actually pretty complex and a lot more complicated than you may first realize. I'm not gonna pretend to know more about philosophy than I actually do, so my summary is fairly condensed, but I think it's fascinating if you want to dig deeper and read more.
     The Ship of Theseus Paradox was hypothesized by ancient philosophers like Plato and later featured in Plutarch's story, "Life of Theseus," almost two millennia ago. Thomas Hobbes, one of the great minds that influenced the founding fathers, added a new layer to the puzzle, asking if the original parts of the ship (the ones that had been replaced) were gathered up and used to make a new ship, which of the two would be the original Ship of Theseus? The old one that uses new parts, or the new one that uses the old parts? Anything that spins your head around this much is my kind of conversation.

     There are tons of references to this in pop culture, including The Wizard of Oz, Futurama, and even Wall-E. My favorite YouTubers, the Super Carlin Brothers, actually have a video about this theory talking about whether Wall-E is still the same robot after replacing his own parts so many times. It's how I found out about the theory and it's super easy to follow. Check it out! One Greek philosopher tried to settle the debate once and for all with the example of a river, whose waters continuously flow without returning but is still always the same river. But even Pocahontas disagrees with that one, singing that "you never step in the same river twice." Gets your brain going, doesn't it? The fundamental question is: what makes something that thing? The individual parts, or some central, unifying identity?
     Anyway, there is a point to this, and it has to do with who you are and why the natural man in you may find it so hard to change.
     I think that somewhere deep within us, the natural man (or just Satan) is trying to tell us that if we change who we are to become more like God, we won't be the same person anymore. We'll be too different, we'll lose what makes us unique, and we'll no longer have any identity. You and I know that this isn't true, that God only wants us to make better versions of ourselves and if anything return to the glorified quality of being we were before this life, but Satan does a convincing job.

     Just before you got home, Konrie and I warned you that it might be difficult to keep the progress you'd won because so many people would expect you to be exactly the same as you were when you left. You don't have to answer me, but think about it for a second. Have you felt that yet? Have you felt yourself slipping back into Old Torra because that's what people expect or maybe even demand of you? That was certainly a challenge for Konrie, and I think we all feel it to a certain degree. My version of that problem was that no matter how much I knew I had improved on the mission, I was disappointed to realize that I hadn't changed as much as I had thought. My bad habits, insecurities, and annoying quirks still shone across my face like a scrolling billboard. When you truly lose yourself on the mission, your own identity is something you don't even realize you're not thinking about anymore, so when you come back, you actually have to decide: do I want to be the old me, or can I make a new me? And--here's the paradox--if I do make a new me, will I still be me? You may feel like you, but you may be afraid that people won't recognize or accept you for you, so I think that many returned missionaries (if not most) decide that no, they don't want a "new me." So they fall back into old habits and lose some of the progress they fought so hard to make.

     The only you I've really had a chance to talk to is the you you are right now, so I don't know if that's the old or new you. But if you don't mind me saying, there have been times when you've seemed a little different than you did in our emails during your last few months in Argentina. First impressions can be inaccurate, so I'm not saying you're bad or that you've lost your ground, but Konrie and I wanted to remind you that 1. we know how hard it is to struggle between who you want to be and who everybody thinks you are and that 2. you don't have to be ashamed to let the new you shine if there's more that you've stashed away. We know personally how hard it is to change--both of us are still working on the same weaknesses we admitted to each other on our first date, and we probably will be for a long time, but don't be embarrassed to improve. Every day should yield a new you, one slightly better on average and moving in the right direction.
     If you think about it, "conversion" is also sometimes called a "change of heart," and "repentance" has a Greek root meaning "change of mind." So in order to come unto Christ and be perfected in Him, we need to literally change out two of the most vital parts of our bodies: our hearts and our minds. This is to put off the natural man and in a sense reprogram ourselves so that we're more compatible with our Father in Heaven.
     Does that make you a fundamentally different person? Well, you'll have to decide that yourself, and you'll have to decide if that's a good thing or a bad thing.
     Does it make you a fundamentally better person? Absolutely.

I couldn't decide on just one quote, so here are two:

"No man can sincerely resolve to apply in his daily life the teachings of Jesus of Nazareth without sensing a change in his own nature. The phrase 'born again' has a deeper significance than many people attach to it. This changed feeling may be indescribable, but it is real."

- David O. McKay, President of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (1951 - 1970)

"The Lord works from the inside out. The world works from the outside in. The world would take people out of the slums. Christ takes the slums out of people, and then they take themselves out of the slums. The world would mold men by changing their environment. Christ changes men, who then change their environment. The world would shape human behavior, but Christ can change human nature."

- Ezra Taft Benson, President of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (1985 - 1994)








Konrie's Korner:

Konrie was really tired and took a nap, and I felt bad waking her up for her part. She said she fully supports what I said and loves you. :) Sorry!


P.S. That drawing of the girl in the rain is called Sunny-Side Up by my brother, Tyler Angel. Check out more of his work here!