thoughts about who we are

22-Feb-2025

Sometimes I feel blue. I think of past mistakes, or seemingly irreparable character flaws, and I ruminate. I concern myself with thoughts of the worst futures that may transpire or alternative histories that never were. Through it all, I see myself—a whole consortium of alternative “me”s. When comparing myself to them, their experiences and abilities differ from mine substantially. They are phantoms—as remote from my present reality as the childhood fantasy of piloting UFOs professionally. And yet, I recognize them. Dreams though they may be, they are still me.

“No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man.” With these words, the Ancient Greek philosopher Heraclitus referred to the impermanence of permanence. Ceaselessly and constantly, everything changes—especially ourselves.¹

So, who are we? If you’ve ever prepared for an important interview, this is a question that you’ve attempted to answer succinctly. That’s no easy task. How can we capture the totality of being within a few short sentences? Should I mention that I enjoy MF DOOM instrumentals? Or that I appreciate handmade leather goods? I find that none of these finer details make it into my ultimate response. Instead, I speak about my applicable interests and relevant experience. It’s an honest response, yes, but also curated and incomplete. As you may expect, these observations have led to some reflections on who we are and the significance of the answer.

Contrary to the Western individualistic social order, it is inaccurate to describe ourselves as pure individuals. As Alasdair MacIntyre argues in After Virtue, humans are fundamentally social beings, shaped by our relationships, communities, and shared traditions. Our social connections and meaningful relationships directly contradict the radical individualist conception that sees people as isolated, autonomous units. This individualistic view fails to account for how our identities, values, and way of reasoning are inherited from social practices and cultural narratives that give our lives meaning and coherence.²

Even beyond intellectual influences and interpersonal connections, we are not individuals. Scrutinize the person you were from your earliest memories. What similarities do you share with this person? I would wager very little.³ Herin lies the truth: Even at the most singular level, we cannot be individuals. Who we were, who we are, and who we will become are unquestionably distinct. We will value different things, possess different proficiencies, and—very likely—even look very different. Yet, we are irrevocably intertwined. No one will ever be more mystified and simultaneously understanding of who you currently are than who you will become. As such, consider each person not as a singular individual, but as a continuous community of separate but indivisible renditions of one another.

The implications and responsibilities begotten by this framework are clear. We must cultivate opportunities and character, not just for our present benefit, but for the larger communities of Selves we inhabit temporally. After all, we are our own most influential mentors, architects of the Selves yet to come. Every action of our present Self echoes both backward and forward in time—giving meaning to our past efforts while molding the character we will become.⁴ This recognition is obvious but when consciously acknowledged, it grants us tremendous power and responsibility. We have the power to deliberately craft our becoming. As we navigate this continuous self-creation, we aren’t just changing ourselves; we’re nurturing the growth of an entire community of Selves, each flowing into the next in an endless chain of transformation and possibility.