| It's an interesting notion that the "my-ness" of my consciousness requires continuity – it must be continuous and uninterrupted. Here's a fun thought experiment – imagine slowly, individually replacing each neuron in your brain with an identical copy, one at a time. You wouldn't notice each of these (a similar process probably happens throughout your life). Is it still "your" consciousness at the end of this process? Now imagine that instead of an identical biological copy, we use some kind of technological copy that perfectly mimics the biological in I/O (of course, you must imagine we've invented such a thing). Now at the end of the process, your brain is completely electronic. Still "your" consciousness? Now, take it one step further and imagine that instead of a technological copy that mimics I/O, we instead (slowly, one-by-one) hook the terminals of each neuron to some kind of transducer that allows us to simulate that nerve in a computer, but deliver the I/O back to any neighboring biological neuron (again, you must imagine we are able to do this). By the end, your brain is completely simulated. Still "your" consciousness? It's difficult to say at which point in this progression the "you-ness" is lost. But I think most people would agree that it _is_ lost, at some point. (FWIW, I realize that this argument is somewhat isomorphic to a Ship of Theseus – with a little bit of techno-dysphoria mixed in). |
In the book "Why Buddhism is True", the author tries to layout the Buddhist idea of "not-self". It's tough to grasp and apparently takes years of meditation and thought to truly understand, but it can be summed up by explaining what the self isn't.
> He conducts this search systematically; he goes through what are known as the five “aggregates” that, according to Buddhist philosophy, constitute a human being and that human’s experience. Describing these aggregates precisely would take a chapter in itself, but for present purposes we can label them roughly as the (1) physical body (called “form” in this discourse), including such sense organs as eyes and ears; (2) basic feelings; (3) perceptions (of, say, identifiable sights or sounds); (4) “mental formations” (a big category that includes complex emotions, thoughts, inclinations, habits, decisions); and (5) “consciousness,” or awareness—notably, awareness of the contents of the other four aggregates. The Buddha runs down this list and asks which, if any, of these five aggregates seem to qualify as self. In other words, which of the aggregates evince the qualities you’d expect self to possess?
He then goes to poke holes in all the aggregates, primarily through arguing that we don't control any of these (including emotions), so without control, can you really call it self?
Example of dispelling the first aggregate:
> For starters, he links the idea of self to the idea of control. Listen to what he says about the aggregate of “form,” the physical body: “If form were self, then form would not lead to affliction, and it should obtain regarding form: ‘May my form be thus, may my form not be thus.’ ” But, he notes, our bodies do lead to affliction, and we can’t magically change that by saying “May my form be thus.” So form—the stuff the human body is made of— isn’t really under our control. Therefore, says the Buddha, it must be the case that “form is not-self.” We are not our bodies
I don't know, it still leaves the hard question of consciousness unanswered. Why does it feel like we're conscious. But perhaps we have the wrong hierarchy. Maybe consciousness is base layer and physical reality is downstream, rather than the reverse.