I found the essay’s use of representational drift especially fruitful because it gives scientific language to an experience many people know inwardly: the memory remains, yet the self who returns to it is no longer quite the same. That helps avoid two simplifications at once—the fantasy that identity is fixed, and the opposite fantasy that change dissolves responsibility. If memory is continually rebuilt, then the ethical question becomes what we do with that rebuilding. The line between change and progress matters here: not every alteration heals, but alteration can become healing when it is ordered toward a good that the self can actually live by.
I don’t think we simply discover ourselves through memory. We selectively interpret and organize memories in ways that create a coherent sense of self and in doing so we partly shape who we are. From an evolutionary psychology perspective, this makes sense. The brain is a prediction engine evolved toward reducing uncertainty, conserving energy and maintaining a stable model of the world. A coherent narrative identity helps achieve this. Memory may therefore have evolved less as an objective recording device than as a practical system for maintaining continuity and meaning. In that sense identity is not simply recovered from the past but shaped by how we remember and reinterpret it.
It was so great getting to hear you speak about this topic and your work at Philosophy Club last week! We spoke very briefly afterward about how your work has influenced your ideas surrounding the philosophy of mind, and I’d really love to hear more about that.
While reading this article, I was particularly struck by the impermanence of memory, not only in its content, but in its physical 'storage' as well. I tend to think that consciousness, or at least our sense of self, is inextricably linked to memory. It feels like our sense of self must depend on some kind of continuity from one moment to the next. My understanding is that memories aren’t stored in individual neurons so much as in the connections between them. If that’s the case, then it seems like our memories, and maybe even our sense of self or consciousness, exist in these patterns of interaction rather than in any fixed physical structure. Then, as you describe in this article, even the particular neurons and connections that make up a given memory can change over time. So not only do we sort of exist in between the neurons, but not even in any stable set of 'in-betweens'. Our minds seem to not be what our brains are so much as what our brains do.
I find this a pretty wild idea to sit with, and I’d love to hear your thoughts, and any corrections, since I’m sure I’m missing pieces of how this all actually works. Looking forward to hearing from you!
I found the essay’s use of representational drift especially fruitful because it gives scientific language to an experience many people know inwardly: the memory remains, yet the self who returns to it is no longer quite the same. That helps avoid two simplifications at once—the fantasy that identity is fixed, and the opposite fantasy that change dissolves responsibility. If memory is continually rebuilt, then the ethical question becomes what we do with that rebuilding. The line between change and progress matters here: not every alteration heals, but alteration can become healing when it is ordered toward a good that the self can actually live by.
I don’t think we simply discover ourselves through memory. We selectively interpret and organize memories in ways that create a coherent sense of self and in doing so we partly shape who we are. From an evolutionary psychology perspective, this makes sense. The brain is a prediction engine evolved toward reducing uncertainty, conserving energy and maintaining a stable model of the world. A coherent narrative identity helps achieve this. Memory may therefore have evolved less as an objective recording device than as a practical system for maintaining continuity and meaning. In that sense identity is not simply recovered from the past but shaped by how we remember and reinterpret it.
It was so great getting to hear you speak about this topic and your work at Philosophy Club last week! We spoke very briefly afterward about how your work has influenced your ideas surrounding the philosophy of mind, and I’d really love to hear more about that.
While reading this article, I was particularly struck by the impermanence of memory, not only in its content, but in its physical 'storage' as well. I tend to think that consciousness, or at least our sense of self, is inextricably linked to memory. It feels like our sense of self must depend on some kind of continuity from one moment to the next. My understanding is that memories aren’t stored in individual neurons so much as in the connections between them. If that’s the case, then it seems like our memories, and maybe even our sense of self or consciousness, exist in these patterns of interaction rather than in any fixed physical structure. Then, as you describe in this article, even the particular neurons and connections that make up a given memory can change over time. So not only do we sort of exist in between the neurons, but not even in any stable set of 'in-betweens'. Our minds seem to not be what our brains are so much as what our brains do.
I find this a pretty wild idea to sit with, and I’d love to hear your thoughts, and any corrections, since I’m sure I’m missing pieces of how this all actually works. Looking forward to hearing from you!
How do photos help us remember and also restructure the memory. I find photos help me remember the emotions of that particular self.
...if at all...