Lin Xian looked at the old manâs back and then at Mochizuki Masashi, with a hint of confusion in his eyes. After a while, his expression suddenly tightened, and he opened his mouth to speak.
"Is he you?"
As soon as Lin Xian spoke, the eyes of the others changed.
Mochizuki Masashi faintly smiled: "No, he is him, I am me, we are all independent individuals. To put it bluntly, before the Digital Life Act is passed, I cannot inherit his identity in terms of a human role, but for now, the relationship between him and me is actually that of teacher and student."
Hearing Mochizuki Masashiâs words, Chen Sixuan and KIKI finally confirmed that the old man by the clear pond was indeed Mochizuki Masashi himself!
"I told you Mochizuki Masashi couldnât be fifty or sixty years old, so your current physical image is using your younger self?" KIKI asked.
Mochizuki Masashi nodded: "Thatâs right."
After speaking, he gestured to the crowd: "Please have a seat. At his age, he prefers tranquility, so letâs handle the troublesome matters."
Lin Xian and Chen Sixuan exchanged glances, not knowing why, upon hearing Mochizuki Masashiâs words, a complex feeling rose in their hearts, as if someone was bidding farewell to their own life. Looking at the elderly fisherman and then at the calm-faced Mochizuki Masashi, who had a bearing of the world, Lin Xianâs emotions suddenly became complicated.
"Itâs no wonder the Digital Life Act hasnât been passed. In a time of peace, such a form of existence is indeed hard to accept." After sitting down, Chen Sixuan spoke softly.
Mochizuki Masashi smiled and said: "Youâve surely heard of the Ship of Theseus paradox in your university philosophy classes, about a wooden ship of an expedition that, over time, its parts gradually decayed, and were continuously replaced with new parts. Eventually, all the parts had been replaced. The issue that arises is, is this ship still the same Ship of Theseus? If so, why? If not, when did it stop being the same?"
Chen Sixuan nodded: "I remember this, itâs about philosophical self-reflection."
"Yes, right, human lifespan is actually related to cell division and renewal. There was once a similar issue that stated a personâs cells are completely renewed every seven years, though thatâs a misconception..." Mochizuki Masashi shrugged: "Actually, different cells have vastly different renewal rates. But... whatever, assuming we use the seven-year claim, the question arises, are you the same person now as you were seven years ago?"
"Iâm definitely still myself." Shi Deyuan said candidly, with a frown: "At least the brain and body hardware are still mine, right..."
Snap~
Mochizuki Masashi snapped his fingers and looked at Shi Deyuan with a meaningful gaze: "Youâre right. If you compare a person to a machine, all its organs are the hardware of this machine, and the hardware needs updating, whether itâs cellular iteration or irreversible damage. For example, you can have prosthetic limbs if limbs are damaged, prosthetic eyes if eyesight is lost, and heart, liver, spleen, lungs, kidneys can all have replacements. Once these are replaced, are they no longer the original self?"
"But the brain is different!" KIKI retorted: "The brain is the center of a personâs thought and consciousness, possessing self-recognition!"
"Bingo!"
"So, the issue lies here." Mochizuki Masashi smiled upon hearing this, putting his hands together in his sleeves and slowly sat down: "Are you âyouâ because of your memory, or because of your thoughts?"
"Of course itâs... uh..." KIKI thought for a moment, but found that she didnât know how to answer this question.
Mochizuki Masashi continued to ask: "When the brain degenerates, thinking ability declines, leading to Parkinsonâs, memory loss. If we compare it to a machine, itâs like a core processor problem, so when we retain its original memory and replace a core processor, the only difference between human brain calculations and quantum computer calculations is the logic and efficiency. Is he no longer himself?"
Lin Xian nodded and took a deep breath: "I know youâre right, but I canât understand it right now."
Mochizuki Masashi pierced directly to the point: He looked at Lin Xian and, with profoundness, said:
"Thatâs because you know that the you after uploading your consciousness has nothing to do with you."
"But you know whatâs very interesting?" He said as he stood up, spreading his arms. In an instant, the entire room was filled with brilliant holographic images, showcasing humanityâs development from tribal agricultural civilization to now: "Human history is basically a continuous process of trial and error, with dynasties being destroyed and rebuilt. In each period, science makes continuous breakthroughs. But the issue is, the limit of a civilization is precisely the lifespan and knowledge limit of its individuals. A simple example, for a top scientist to participate in frontier research, they need to be at least 35-40 years old, meaning two-thirds of their life is spent repeatedly learning existing knowledge, starting from 1+1, over and over. But as the technological tree of this world grows larger, a person cannot master so much knowledge, so the only option is to continuously divide disciplines, divide and divide, like multi-threaded processing, allowing us to have thousands or tens of thousands of disciplines!"
"But the brainâs computational processing power is at its peak between 15-20 years old. This is where the contradiction comes in. The brain of a deceased great scientist cannot think anymore, while the brain of a newborn needs to establish a world view anew... But the problem is, society, politics, family, environment, disasters, networks, religionâeverything makes the repetition of this process filled with more risks and unpredictabilities. And so, the development of civilization is inevitably limited by lifespan and the volume of knowledge storage. Have you ever thought about why processors have been able to iterate from light bulbs to vacuum tubes, semiconductors, and quantum bodies, yet why canât the human brain do the same?"