Snowdon on Personal Identity
Seminars with Paul Snowdon would typically begin with a single argument, written in the middle of a whiteboard. Snowdon would unpick the argument premise by premise, disambiguating, clarifying and outlining how it departed from (or, less frequently, aligned with) what we might ordinarily say – filling the board in the process with an array of claims, sub-arguments and diagrams (seemingly derived mid-discussion). When faced with a question or objection, there would be an extended pause, often marked with Snowdon thinking, head in hands, before he responded with a charitable, deep and often humorous discussion of the point that had been made.
These qualities—rigour, a sense for what is important and an inventive but commonsensical analysis—are found throughout Snowdon’s writings, and are characteristic of his rich discussions of personal identity.
Animalism
In the personal identity debate, Paul Snowdon is known (alongside Michael Ayers, Eric Olson and Bill Carter) as one of the early proponents of animalism. This view says, simply and unsurprisingly, that you and I (and all other so-called human persons)are numerically identical to organisms of the kind Homo sapiens. More precisely, it says that we are each identical to the organism which is located where we are.
Snowdon’s master argument for animalism—also independently endorsed by Eric Olson and William Carter—takes the following form:
- There is an animal located where I am sitting.
- The animal located where I am sitting is thinking.
- I am the only thinking thing that is located where I am sitting (put otherwise: if something sitting here is thinking, it is identical to me).
- C. Therefore, I am identical to the animal located where I am sitting.
Those familiar with the personal identity debate will have encountered this `thinking animal’ argument presented as a robust knock-down of alternatives to animalism. It is illustrative of Snowdon’s style that it is deployed more cautiously in his case for animalism – as one of a series of observations that animalism coheres with our commonsense view of ourselves:
At least for most of us, it can be claimed, our self-conception will involve all of the following: (i) an idea of our origin and where we were born, (ii) an idea of our spatiotemporal history since then, (iii) an idea of certain physical properties we do have and have had, for example a weight, a shape, and an appearance, …
Now, of what entity do we also think these things? It seems clear that we would ascribe all these properties to the human animal H. It has the same origins, history, material and psychological properties, effects, social position, and prospects. (p. 83)
Put otherwise, my conception of myself involves a number of features which also seem to be features of the animal located where I take myself to be. Why not simply believe that I am this animal?
Animalism as a Default Position
Snowdon takes these arguments to do more than simply present a case for animalism. The passage quoted above continues:
Having noticed this massive overlap of properties, it would seem reasonable to hold, or insist, that some positive reason would need to be given for thinking that they are not the same thing … There is, therefore, a strong case to view [animalism] as the default position (ibid)
If Snowdon is correct, then animalists do not need to find further reason to endorse animalism – but only to examine arguments against it and consider whether they can be answered. Before discussing some (putative) reasons to reject animalism, I will make two comments about the claim that animalism should be our default position.
First, this methodology is not illegitimate; it is often satisfactory to defend a view by showing that it is appealing, and that proposed objections are not evidently successful. However, it is not mandatory to do philosophy by reference to a default position; other approaches exist, such as starting with the widest possible set of considerations and looking to reconcile them (a la Rawls’ method of reflective equilibrium or Nozick’s closest continuer theory of personal identity), or attempting to derive a view from one’s preferred metaphysics of persistence (e.g. Lewis’ 1976 perdurantist account of persons) or of mind (e.g. the functionalist account of personal identity in Shoemaker 1984, ch. 6 & 7).
Second, to say that something is the default view is to say that it is uniquely privileged – it, and no other view, should be accepted unless an alternative proves itself to be preferable. We have seen that animalism is a natural `first port of call’ (i.e. that it coheres with much that we believe about ourselves) and that there are broader theoretical considerations in its favour. However, we have not considered whether other positions similarly combine initially attractive claims about ourselves with theoretical backing for them. Hence, even if animalism may reasonably be accepted in the absence of disproof, it is not evident that it is uniquely privileged. This will be of particular relevance when we come to consider putative reasons for rejecting the view.
Reasons to Reject Animalism
Snowdon focuses much of Persons, Animals, Ourselves on responses to putative cases in which a person survives but their animal does not [P&~A cases], cases in which the animal survives but the person does not [A&~P cases] or cases in which more than one person seems to be associated with a single animal (such as the proposed example of dissociative identity disorder—colloquially known as `multiple personality disorder’).
I will primarily focus on one P&~A case; Shoemaker’s much discussed brain transplant thought experiment. First, though, to give a flavour for Snowdon’s commonsensical approach, I shall briefly recount what he says in response to two other cases—the examples of an irreversible coma [an A&~P case] and dissociative identity disorder [a case in which more than one person seems to be associated with a single person].
It is sometimes said that someone in an irreversible comatose state is no longer with us. This thought is sometimes taken seriously—to suggest that they have literally ceased to exist before their bodily death. Is this the correct way to understand the ordinary use of the phrases `She’s no longer the same person’ or `he’s not really with us’? Snowdon, I think rightly, suggests that it is not:
It is hardly likely that relatives and friends would react sympathetically if the hospital authorities removed the name on the bed, declined to respond to questions about the whereabouts of the mother, and denied that she was any longer in the hospital (having already `gone’). This indicates, I believe, that even with those inclined to express [the verdict that she has gone] here it does not represent something they genuinely think is strictly true (p. 135)
Our practical attitudes towards those in such states suggest that we do not seriously believe that the person involved has ceased to exist.
It is also sometimes argued that those suffering from dissociative identity disorder are not one, but many – and hence that several subjects (i.e. persons) can exist within a single animal. This style of argument relies on a controversial assumption – that actual cases of dissociative identity disorder involve the existence of distinct personalities. However, suppose that this assumption is correct. Should we accept that those undergoing dissociative identity disorder are many – and hence that animalism is false? Against this, Snowdon says:
[R]ather than just imagining an abstract case of MPD and reasoning and intuiting about it, one should imagine that the symptoms appear in, as we would naturally say, someone close to you. Is there really any appeal at all in thinking that the person who means so much to you is literally no longer there, rather than so obviously there and suffering? (p. 153)
He continues to note that relatives and carers standardly think and treat an individual suffering from dissociative identity disorder as a single patient—and, indeed, that it is not thought morally problematic to attempt to treat the disorder and re-integrate the personalities exhibited, as it would be if one were to try to erase one of two persons associated with a single body (p. 154). Again, this seems to suggest that we do not seriously believe that there are more persons than animals when confronted with cases of this time.
In both of these responses, I think Snowdon is right—and that he reveals neatly that some of the intuitions which lead philosophers to oppose animalism are not seriously entertained. We might draw here a contrast with a different style of case—the brain transplant case, described by Shoemaker in the following way:
Two men, a Mr. Brown and a Mr. Robinson, had been operated on for brain tumors, and brain extractions had been performed on both of them. At the end of the operations, however, the assistant inadvertently put Brown’s brain in Robinson’s head … Let us call [this man] “Brownson.” Upon regaining consciousness Brownson exhibits great shock and surprise at the appearance of his body … When asked his name he automatically replies “Brown.” He recognizes Brown’s wife and family (whom Robinson had never met), and is able to describe in detail events in Brown’s life … Of Robinson’s past life, he evidences no knowledge at all. (Shoemaker 1963, pp. 23–24)
Although, unlike dissociative identity disorder and dementia, there are no known cases of brain transplants, this case has been taken to provide the most significant challenge for animalism. It evokes in most people the strong intuition that Brown has woken up in Jones’ body. Yet the animal associated with Brown died on the operating table. Brown therefore appears to have outlived his animal — and so cannot be identical to it.
The claim that Brown has outlived his animal can be supported in at least two ways. First, although brain transplant cases are not yet actual, if one were to occur as described, it would seem reasonable to treat the brain recipient as identical to the brain donor. Unlike comas and dissociative identity disorder, we would likely respond to actual brain transplant cases in a way that conflicted with animalism. Second, there is some theoretical backing for this style of objection to animalism; Johnston suggests, in relation to cases of brain removal, that the following claim should be accepted:
(No creation) You don’t cause a person to come into being by removing, disabling or destroying tissue, unless this positively causally impacts the neural basis of a capacity for reflective mental life, for example by removing a suppressor of that capacity. (Johnston 2016, p. 111)
Here, the brain is thought to retain the `neural basis of a capacity for a reflective mental life’ when extracted from Brown’s body – and, hence, to remain associated with a person. No creation entails that this person was not created by the brain’s removal – and, hence, that it is Brown, newly separated from his animal.
Snowdon’s response to brain transplant cases involves two main elements. He notes that the argument against animalism rests on the intuition that a person would `go with their brain’ in a brain transplant case —and that it should be acknowledged that intuitions may be recalcitrant (particularly when they are inconsistent with theoretically attractive views). Second, to expand on this thought, Snowdon argues that there are fictionalised variations on the example of the brain transplant case where we would be less sure that a subject must `go with their brain’:
Let us suppose that what happens in the human cognitive system is that there is a more or less continuously operating back-up system. The psychological features in the functioning cognitive system are also copied to an internal device, which is, however, not in the brain. Suppose, further, that if the brain is transplanted the result will be as envisaged by Shoemaker, with an extra feature. That is that within the original donor body a new `brain’ will develop and slowly download into itself the details in the back-up mechanism. Now, what is the verdict? Does the original person go with the brain—or perhaps remain? Does anyone feel that they know straight off? (p. 226)
As these cases involve only minor variations on the theme of brain transplantation, Snowdon argues that uncertainty about them should create uncertainty about the results of the original brain transplant thought experiment.
Snowdon’s defence of animalism is ingenious. It is surely fair to insist that even very attractive intuitions might be recalcitrant—and to set them against the merits of positions opposed to them. However, those uncommitted to animalism may feel unconvinced. The two chapters Snowdon devotes to brain transplantation are primarily defensive – and primarily focus on showing that it does not decisively refute animalism. This is, of course, acceptable if animalism is our default position (to be accepted unless it is overturned). However, we have seen that there may not be a unique default position.
Further, one could perhaps argue that the brain transplant intuition and Johnson’s `no creation’ principle provide weight to an alternative `default’, on which our mental life is integral to our survival. Snowdon’s response to brain transplant cases does not decisively refute this alternative position. We would then be left with more than one position with both theoretical backing and no decisive refutation.
Conclusion
So, where does this leave us? I think that Snowdon is right to say that there are strong theoretical considerations in favour of animalism—and that it is quite fair to insist that, given those considerations, it is reasonable to accept animalism if no refutation of the view is forthcoming. Snowdon rigorously (and often humorously) shows that no decisive objection exists. However, I do not think that he has established a mandatory presumption in favour of animalism, as may be suggested by the language of default positions.
The argument above suggests that it may be fair to feel that Snowdon has not quite overturned the force of the brain transplant intuition. Unless we accept animalism as our default view, it is therefore justifiable to continue to seek to reconcile brain transplant cases with an account of personal identity.
References
Johnston, M. 2016 ‘Remnant Persons: Animalism’s Undoing’. In S. Blatti and P. F. Snowdon, eds. Animalism: New Essays on Persons, Animals, and Identity. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Lewis, D. 1976. ‘Survival and identity’. In A. O. Rorty, ed. the Identities of Persons. Berkeley and Los Angeles, California: University of California Press
Shoemaker, S. 1963. Self-Knowledge and Self-Identity. Ithaca, New York: Cornell University Press.
Shoemaker, S. 1984. ‘Personal Identity: A Materialist’s Account’. In S. Shoemaker and R. Swinburne, eds. Personal Identity. Oxford: Blackwell
Snowdon, P. F. 2014. Persons, Animals, Ourselves. Oxford: Oxford University Press.