Alzheimer's Is Scarier than Determinism

That the mind is a product of the brain and a slave to the body is one of the great existential tragedies. I can see why it has driven many to Buddhism, buddha, or both. It is unsettling, to say the least, to confront the reality that our thoughts are inevitably constrained by our genes and experiences.

Ironically, we are wired for dualism -- the grand delusion. The fact is that just as we can only be so tall, we can only be so smart, so funny, so open-minded, so laid back, and so forth. We are only free within the confines of our identities.

This fact alone is perhaps not so tragic -- no more so, at least, than not being able to choose one's parents. Under normal circumstances, it does not assert itself. (Psychological maturation, for instance, occurs under the radar; we don't grow up overnight.) The real tragedy is when it does. Depression strikes. Dementia sets in. We cannot help but rail against what we perceive our bodies to be doing to ourselves. Is there a worse form of torture?

Who we are is what we are, and what we are is biological. We are the meat of our makers, but perhaps one day we will have the technology to live in defiance of this fact. I'd settle for being a brain-in-a-vat, but I'd rather be a mind in a machine.