The Ship of Theseus

I took my scooter in for general maintenance a few weeks ago, and replaced my old back wheel with a new one. I still think of my scooter as the same scooter; it just now has a new back wheel. Sure, it's not technically identical to the scooter I bought a few years ago, but a parts change doesn't change the overall identity of the object in my mind.

But what happens when I replace the seat next year? The rear-view mirrors? The brakes? The speed indicator? At what point would I think of the scooter as a "different" one?

In the metaphysics, there is a fun thought experiment known as the "Ship of Theseus". 

Let's imagine a warship named "Theseus" becomes famous after achieving many great victories in war. It is placed in a museum after retirement, and as the years go by, some of the wooden parts begin to rot, and are replaced with new wooden parts. Some rusty metal joints are replaced with new ones. After a few hundred years, each and every single part of the Theseus has been replaced by a new part. The question is whether or not this "refurbished" ship is still the same object as the original?

Now, let's suppose all the old removed pieces were stored somewhere in a large warehouse, and were eventually restored using technology that reversed the rotting and rust, making it possible to completely reconstruct the ship. Is this "reconstructed" ship now the "Theseus"? And if so, what does that make the "Theseus" in the museum?

To summarize, the "Ship of Theseus" thought experiment basically considers if an object that has had all of its components replaced is still the same object.

This is actually a very common phenomenon, and there's no definitive answer. In some circumstances, people will almost always consider the refurbished version to be the true "Theseus", and not the reconstructed one. Sports teams are a great example of "objects" that have all of its components completely replaced with the passage of time. Athletes join and leave different sports teams all the time. They are drafted, traded, and retire. The Chicago Bulls of 2020 have none of the same players as the Chicago Bulls of 1996, but everyone still thinks of them being the same "team", even if literally none of the same players are still involved. If Jordan, Pippen, Kerr, Rodman, and every single player on the 1996 Chicago Bulls roster eventually signed with the Golden State Warriors, you would refer to that team as the "Golden State Warriors", not the "Chicago Bulls". So in sports, it's clearly the logo on the front of the jersey that defines what fans see as the "team", and not the players.

On the other hand though, we think of groups like music bands differently. While people do still come and go from bands, the departure of one member can change the perception of the group significantly, much more so than the departure of a star basketball player. Queen definitely doesn't have the same feel as it did with Freddie Mercury. Linkin Park (as a group) has essentially gone on hiatus after the death of Chester Bennington.

So the same question arises - at what point would you consider the group to no longer be the same group? For sports teams, the answer is fairly clear - it's pretty much always considered to be the same group so long as the team name persists. But for a music group? Hard to say. Replacing a drummer generally doesn't seem to make a big difference in perception. But replacing the lead singer is huge.

At the end of the day, it still is a question of metaphysics, meaning there's no objective one true answer. Your mind creates the answer for yourself in your head, and everyone's answer will be slightly different and arguably equally valid. Do you see it as the same group? Then it's the same group, to you.

For me, it comes down to "group culture" - so long as the culture is the same, replacing members is secondary. Babymetal will never be the same as it was before Yui-metal left. But it's still Babymetal, and as awesome as ever. It's still all about cute dancing and powerful female vocals paired with earth-shaking heavy metal music exploring different musical genres, and the replacement members each bring something cool to the table. However, if Su-metal leaves, then that's arguably the end of Babymetal. So there's definitely a line drawn, we just don't always agree where it's drawn.

Conversely, if the culture has changed too much, then it's no longer the same group, even if no changes have been made in the member list or logo.

If the Golden State Warriors start playing volleyball, they're no longer the "Golden State Warriors", even if they keep the exact same logo and roster.

At a larger level, countries are the same way. There is no static, unchanging definition of a country. Generally we might think of borders as a good unchanging definition, but even that's not absolute. When America annexed Hawaii, everyone still considered the country overall to be "America", just bigger than before. There's no one thing that objectively defines what makes or breaks a "country". Borders can change. Demographics can change. Culture can change too. Anything can change, so long as it's gradual enough.

And that's the key - when change isn't gradual, people have a natural tendency to avoid change, because it's unfamiliar, and goes against their longstanding definition of the "thing". Replace the wheel, it's still the same scooter. Replace the seat, it's still the same scooter. Replace all the parts over a long enough period of time, and it's likely most people will still think of it as the same scooter (and accept it as such), even if all the parts have been replaced. But do it all at once? Yeah no, that's totally a different scooter.

Writing in Traditional Chinese is a big part of what makes Taiwan "Taiwan", and not part of China. There would undoubtedly be a strong backlash if the government decided to transition to the simplified writing system immediately, but it *might* be accepted if implemented over a period of 10 years.

Why is this important? Like many countries, the generational divide is growing increasingly stark, a situation only aggravated by the rise of the internet and our ability to find our own comfort zones and echo chambers. I've observed that the younger generations (I include myself in this group, though I don't know for how much longer!) have difficulty empathizing with opposition to social reforms from our elders. For example, support for same-sex marriage is significantly lower among older folks. To the youth of Taiwan, this seems like a no-brainer. Love is love! How could you possibly be okay with treating my gay friends like second-class citizens? But the fact of the matter is, we do need to understand that this is a new world for our parents and grandparents. They didn't have "normal" gay friends (though it's quite likely that gay people have always existed, but have been forced to hide their identities until now). This represents a big change in culture, and they see it as something that changes the country and world they're familiar with.

This obviously isn't to justify any particular policy position. Slavery needed to be abolished, regardless of how accustomed White people were to the institution in the United States. Perhaps same-sex marriage is also objectively the "right" choice for the country. But we need to understand that change is scary, because the Theseus is no longer the Theseus. Not all opposition is based on deep-rooted bigotry, and addressed or attacked the same way. Sometimes all people need is just time, familiarity, and a few conversations with some normal gay people to see things differently. I know I had my change of heart in college. Treating everyone who disagrees with you as an adversary that cannot be reasoned with is counter-productive, and distracts from us from focusing energy on the rare groups that truly need to be taken down with no mercy and hesitation.