Reply to comment

Congito ergo sum. Je pense alors, je suis.  I think therefore I am.          –Rene Descartes It would be extremely frustrating to be a quadriplegic like Christopher Reeves.  If someone kicked John Doe, a quadriplegic, in the shin, his leg would recoil, but the “I” wouldn’t know it happened (unless John watched that someone kick you).  His body would be able to move without him willing it to, but when he would try to move his leg, without the kicking input, nothing would happen.  John would have this body that is connected to him, and he relies on it to live, but he has no control over it.  His actions from the neck down are only be reflex, lacking intention.  Yes. I am perfectly normal. If I want to raise my hand in class, no problem, but my body carries out so many functions that I can’t control, and really, wouldn’t want to.   Like the peristalsis movements in my intestines, I’m just as well off not being aware of them.  So what is the extent of the ‘I’ function? How much territory to we want to have it cover? The word, intention: it has a lot to do with the ‘I’ function.  For example, I observe that Suzy Q takes a step forward.  I can think of two possible summaries for this observation.  1)    Suzy Q wanted to step forward. She did so with intention. 2)    Someone pushed her forward. Suzy Q put her foot out to keep herself from falling.  She did so without intention. It both cases, Suzy is aware that she stepped forward. She’s able to think about it. To process it.  What if she couldn’t process? Couldn’t think about her actions?  First of all summary 1 wouldn’t hold true. She wouldn’t have an ‘I’ function.  She couldn’t think, therefore she couldn’t be—if Descartes is right.  I think therefore I am.  What does this mean for those who can’t think? The brain-dead. Do they exist?