Tag: mind/body dualism

Understanding the Ghost in the Shell

crimson

In the interests of transparency, while this post will be in part a review of the Netflix series Ghost in the Shell: SAC_2045, this post is going to go far and beyond the show into the philosophical concepts of mind/body dualism. In particular, an argument as to why mind/body dualism is nonsensical in the first place, much as the namesake was attempting to convey. That all said, this is your fair warning that there are likely to be spoilers ahead, for those who have not yet watched the show or the related films.

Let us begin with a brief history. The term “Ghost in the Machine” is credited to the philosopher Gilbert Ryle who was using the phrase in 1949 to describe Cartesian dualism, one of many interpretations of mind/body dualism. Ryle was arguing against dualism, his essay attempting to prove that dualism simply makes no logical sense. Later in 1967, the phrase would be popularized by the author Arthur Koestler in his book entitled The Ghost in the Machine, where like Ryle he would argue against mind/body dualsim.

If it is not already obvious, Masamune Shirow was inspired by the preceding and altered the title ever so slightly for his story. Thus, where we begin is that the phrase “Ghost in the Shell” is a literal and direct reference to mind/body dualism. The “Ghost” is the representation of the mind, whereas the “Shell” is the representation of the body. This is incredibly important to delineate right now, as there often seems to be a bit of misunderstanding by many that “Ghost” is instead referring to something like spirit or soul. Of course, that sort of misunderstanding may be understandable as the difference between these two ideas may itself not be clear. So let us clear that up.

What is the difference between “mind” and “soul?” The answer is rather simple: measurability. That is, things dealing with the mind are in some fashion measurable, whereas those things dealing with the soul are not. At least not directly. It can be argued that even the mind is strictly unmeasurable in a direct fashion, but that would require much more clarification on what “mind” means. If I assume that my mind is the part of me that relates to my conscious self, where activities like my thinking and my decision making take place, then it should be clear why these things are indeed measurable. After all, my mind’s activities manifest in reality through my actions, activities which are quite measurable in their nature.

My soul, on the other hand, is not measurable. There is even debate as to whether it exists at all. I am not convinced I have a soul of the sort most people have in mind. If I did, I would describe it specifically as “that part of me that is unmeasurable.” And then, as René Descartes quickly discovered, a lot of people would rightly beg the question of how something unmeasurable could possibly affect something measurable at all.

As I am fond of describing these things differently, I will now invoke determinism and talk of causes and effects. The body, then, is a thing that is rooted deeply in determinism. The body is affected by all sorts of things, and it causes all sorts of things as well, simply bumping into the atoms of the world at virtually every moment. The mind is a little more difficult to delineate. In a lot of ways, the mind is also rooted in determinism, being affected through sensory inputs and then causing through expression and manifestation of actions, typically through the body. However, if one is fond of ideas of freedom and free will, they might also suggest there is an element of the mind that is an uncaused cause. That is, a part of the mind that itself is not affected by the world, and yet is capable of affecting the world, through decision making for example.

The soul, using these sorts of descriptions, is a thing that is entirely outside determinism. That is, it is unaffected by the world, nor does it affect the world. Or, by some interpretations, perhaps it is affected by the world, but is left unable to affect the world. Like a caused uncause? The very idea is difficult to grasp as it is so far outside the realms I am familiar with.

Therefore, the term “Ghost” referring to mind as opposed to soul is a significant distinction. And so, it is with this distinction in mind that I now refer to the show Ghost in the Shell: SAC_2045. I found the series to be extremely entertaining. Especially visually and audibly. The closing song to the episodes of the second season, millennium parade‘s “No Time to Cast Anchor” is stuck in my head even now. As a fan of the original films, I found this representation of the familiar characters quite stunning.

But then we get to the story, and I am still not entirely sure how I feel about things. The first season brought the group back to Section 9 in order to deal with a new existential threat known as the “posthumans.” A posthuman, we are told initially, is an individual who has undergone a transformation or evolution, whereby their intellectual capacities appear to far exceed even the greatest supercomputers of the time. Even the use of three Tachikomas, sharing their collective processing and computational abilities, is still insufficient to really go against them.

Where the first season spends its time introducing all the players and setting up the threat, the second season is still a bit of a mystery. It is even suggested that perhaps the entire second season is essentially just a dream. Faced with an unreliable narrator throughout the second season, and even at the end, it is entirely unclear what happened and what did not. The finale seems to suggest that the antagonist, Takashi Shimamura, was busy infecting the world’s population in order to push humans to their next evolutionary stage through a process he refers to as “double think.” The concept itself is a bit confusing.

For those seeking out an explanation of this “double think” idea, here is how I understand it: through the hacking of an individual’s cyberbrain, they are placed into a state where they simultaneously exist in two realms. Saying exist is a bit suggestive though, so perhaps I might better describe it as like multithread programming. That is, in their minds, the individual is living two separate and mostly independent lives. One in the real world, and one in a virtual reality similar to a very immersive video game (as Purin Esaki tells us). Furthermore, the virtual reality is unique for each individual; a sort of solipsistic reality whereby the individual gets to live out their perfect, preferred existence allowing them to remain calm and happy.

Meanwhile, their real world selves get to continue doing whatever it is they are meant to do, benefiting from the calm and happy state received from the virtual aspect of their existence. We do not get too many examples of this to help us understand, only really seeing construction workers contentedly rebuilding Tokyo. So, at least for me, there is already a pretty big problem with this situation, and it stems once again in the ideas of mind/body dualism.

It is also important to point out that the reason Shimamura follows this course of action is that he is trying to eliminate conflict and war among his human brethren. His solution is derived from reading George Orwell’s dystopian novel Nineteen Eighty-Four. It is also worth pointing out that the artificial intelligence that allows him to enact his ultimate plan is called 1A84, clearly a derivative of 1984. If you are not familiar with this incredibly influential novel, I suggest you read it or at least watch the film adaptation. It reveals a lot about what is happening in SAC_2045, and why it does not appear to be a happy ending at all.

Very briefly, Orwell’s novel is where the idea of “Big Brother” comes from. In that story, the world is overtaken by a rather overbearing government who watches and controls its citizens in such a way as to completely remove any possibility of freedom or free will. This should already start to sound like what happens in SAC_2045.

Putting aside the challenges in determining what does or does not happen in reality, the ending result of SAC_2045, that is referred fondly as a singularity that is the progression of the human species to their logical next level of their evolution, is that the freedom of every single human being across the entire planet is forcibly removed by the antagonist. There only appears to be two characters who are in some way immune to the affects. And one of those characters is outright dismissed because she doesn’t have a “ghost.”

As far as Esaki goes, if you take my interpretation of “ghost” at the outset, then it is suggested that she has no mind. This seems incredibly misguided as she clearly has some sort of intellect that she exercises throughout the latter half of the season. Which then forces viewers to start suggesting that “ghost” is instead referring to her soul. This too is incredibly misguided. Are we to believe that the only thing that differentiates Major Motoko Kusanagi and Esaki, the fact that Kusanagi has a human brain in her body, is the reason that one has a soul and one does not? If we follow this reasoning, then artificial intelligences (to use the terms in the show) cannot possibly ever have souls. Which is a bit presumptuous in my own opinion. Especially when there is strong evidence to suggest otherwise just a little later in the same episode.

And then there is the Major. Apparently she is the only human who is “romantic” enough to be immune. Only she has difficulty blurring the line between fantasy and reality enough to prevent her from being hacked and forced into “double think.” Out of nine billion souls across this planet, only she was able to resist. I guess that is why she is the protagonist. (Honestly, I do not buy it at all.)

Where I am left after watching the series is a bit annoyed actually. I do not like how the series ended. Do not misunderstand, I still liked the series overall. And I will still recommend it to other potential viewers. But I think the story has some rather significant issues. Maybe, with time, someone can enlighten me to what it was all about. I’m still “just trynna figure out what it’s about.”

Ultimately, I might suggest the best way to interpret the entire series is in the spirit of the ontology of its namesake. The show and the story are demonstrating to us the logical conclusions an individual might draw in a world where mind/body dualism is how it all works. That is, if it actually makes sense for the mind to exist without the body. Which leads us in very unexpected and terrifying directions.

The alternative is to suggest that mind/body dualism is not how it all works. That our minds are inexplicably linked to our bodies in a very, very intimate way. I am reminded of the thought experiment discussed in my Philosophy of Mind class where we asked the question of what would happen if you took my brain and placed it into someone else’s body. Who would awaken after that surgery? Me? The other person? Someone else entirely?

My answer was simple. What would awaken would be a new, unique individual who would bear some resemblance to me, and also some resemblance to the other person, but definitely not either of us. Of course, no one really knows the answer to this question because to perform such a surgery skirts the bounds of what is ethical in our world. So unless someone breaks all taboos and performs this illegal surgery, we may simply never know.

In Simulation

crimson

The new Matrix film is nearly upon us, and so my partner and I are watching all the previous films and supplementary material. An important part of this process is discussing the films after viewing, sharing the various revelations we have that we may have missed on previous viewings. It speaks to the quality of the original story that we continue having revelations and epiphanies even 20 years later.

My latest revelation is one that is raising some rather disturbing questions regarding the story and regarding how consciousness operates in our real world. I might even suggest it is a weakness in my previous arguments regarding consciousness thus far. The issue of what it means to be “in simulation.”

Of course, before I can even talk about being “in simulation,” I will have to discuss what a simulation is. As it turns out, trying to elucidate the idea of a simulation caused a rather heated debate between my partner and I. We cannot agree what a simulation is. And so, in this post, I will be primarily focused on my interpretation. I will try to share her interpretation, but the honest truth is that I don’t really understand her interpretation.

I have spoken before about identity and of the world. My identity is what I (and others) consider to be what constitutes me. The “I” when I say I. In some sense, my identity is what separates what is me from the rest of the world, and from others. Which brings us to the idea of the world. The world is that which is not me, and very generally what is not others. You are not the world, but you are a part of the world, just as I am a part of the world as well.

However, the world also includes that which is not a part of you or me. The world, in some sense, can exist without either of us. The world (we generally believe) can and will persist even when I cease to exist. Furthermore, the world contains objects that both you and I can observe and generally agree upon. We can both see the same objects, albeit from slightly different perspectives. And so, very generally, the world is the same for me as it is for you. At least, this is a significant assumption I make about the world. And I believe most people make a very similar assumption, even if they are not aware they are making this assumption.

A simulation is also a world, though not the “real” world. The world we presently inhabit, I believe, most will agree is considered to be the “real” world. This blog, this website, is a part of the “real” world. This blog is not necessarily a part of a simulation. Having said all this, I will acknowledge that as I continue this discussion, questions may be raised regarding the integrity of this.

A simulation is loosely based on the “real” world, and will be a lesser version of it. That is, a simulation will bear some resemblance to the “real” world in some way, and may even share some elements of it. However, a simulation will always be absent some of the elements of the “real” world as well. This is a large reason we will call it a simulation. A simulation, in some sense, is a straw man argument of the “real” world.

Like the “real” world, a simulation is governed by rules and laws. Or, as my partner has pointed out, perhaps not so much governed by as perhaps explained by. For example, in the “real” world there appears to be some sort of attractive force that acts upon all bodies. We often refer to this force as gravity. We even have various mathematical formulas we use to predict how gravity will affect various bodies, and we use science in order to validate these formulas as best we can. Gravity is a sort of governing rule of the “real” world.

A simulation can include gravity, though it does not necessarily have to. The rules of the simulation may be similar to the rules of the “real” world, or they may be vastly different. What both the simulation and the “real” world share is the fact that there are these rules or laws. Navigating a simulation can be done in a similar fashion to navigating in the “real” world; an understanding of these rules is what is required. If I understand how gravity operates (at least on some rudimentary level), then I can navigate through a world governed by gravity.

The point of all this pedantic examination is that a simulation will bear some resemblance to the “real” world. In the case of the Matrix from the films, the Matrix is a simulation that bears a lot of similarities to the “real” world. However, as the character Mouse points out in the first film, it is possible the machines (who created the simulation of the Matrix) could have either accidentally or intentionally made errors:

“How did the machines really know what Tasty Wheat tasted like. huh?. Maybe they got it wrong. Maybe what I think Tasty Wheat tasted like actually tasted like oatmeal or tuna fish. That makes you wonder about a lot of things. You take chicken for example, maybe they couldn’t figure out what to make chicken taste like, which is why chicken tastes like everything.”

While the machines may have correctly or incorrectly represented Tasty Wheat or chicken, the point is that these humans who are now discussing what their “single cell protein combined with synthetic aminos, vitamins, and minerals” actually tastes like are basing their assessment on information they have received from a simulated reality that they acknowledge may have provided them misinformation. In the end, in truth, they have no idea what their meal tastes like, only that it has a taste.

This is one of the critical issues with the idea of simulation and of simulacra. The information we receive from our interactions with any particular world are what we use to recognize and understand the elements of that world. This is the heart of the arguments made by the Empiricists of the 18th century; that all knowledge is based on experience. What they may not have concerned themselves with as much is the reliability of the world that provided them that experience.

Which brings us to the heart of my own discussion here. What does it mean to be “in simulation?” More specifically, what is happening when we are in simulation? In the story, when someone is in the Matrix, does their mind or consciousness or soul leave their body and exist within the Matrix? Or does their mind remain within their body, and the simulation is simply altering the interface one has with their world, hijacking their senses and replacing those experiences with alternate ones?

As I write these words, it seems obvious what the answer ought to be. In the case of the film, as seems to be presented, human minds exist in human bodies, and connecting to the Matrix does not somehow separate the two. A physical cable is connected to the brain stem, and all the sensory input normally fed to the brain by the rest of the body is replaced by alternative sensory information provided by the simulation. Morpheus rightly inquires: “What is real? How do you define real? If you’re talking about what you can feel, what you can smell, what you can taste and see, then real is simply electrical signals interpreted by your brain.” It does not matter the source of those signals, the brain will interpret whatever signals it receives.

The problem raised by the story is that if all of your senses have been hijacked, then you might not be aware that the world you think you are in is in fact a fabrication. You might be in simulation, and not know it. The issue my partner and I debated was whether one could be in simulation and still know they were in simulation.

The manner in which our debate manifested raised an even more insidious issue: where does one’s mind or consciousness reside while in simulation? For me, it seemed obvious: the mind continues to reside where it always seems to reside, in the body in the “real” world. However my partner did not agree. For her, while in simulation, the mind or consciousness left the body and resided in the simulation itself, inside the simulated body. Which case is true can have significant ramifications on events that follow.

As Morpheus suggests, the body cannot live without the mind. Therefore, the mind must necessarily remain within the body at all times, lest the body die. If this is true, then the mind remains in the body in the “real” world. But if this is how it works, then why would unplugging the cable that connects the physical body to the Matrix cause anything bad to happen? How did Apoc and Switch die? If the mind is always in the body, then disconnecting a cable should cause no issues for the individual, as their mind and body remain intact. Only the connection to the simulation is severed, which would seem to merely end the simulation for the individual. They should have simply woken like from a dream.

The alternative is equally problematic. If the mind in fact does leave the body and enter the Matrix, then the body is without a mind and ought to expire. Clearly, within the story, this does not happen. So if minds can successfully be separated from bodies, then Morpheus must be mistaken. Bodies can exist and continue without minds, perhaps on some sort of life support. However, if this is now the case, then how does anything that happens with the mind while it is disconnected from the body affect the body. How can the mind make real such things as injuries?

My partner and I did come up with another alternative that could explain what is going on. What if the mind does not entirely leave the body? What if the mind is sort of tethered to the body, so that a part of the mind remains with the body but a part of the mind enters the Matrix? This would resolve a number of issues, including how the mind makes things real for the body. This tether is what is maintained through the physical cabling that is connected to the brain stem. Severing the tether would be akin to lobotomy, which could then be severe enough to end a person’s life.

In some fashion, the mind is in both places at the same time. Both in the “real” world and at the same time in simulation. If we think of the mind in the “real” world and the mind in simulation as being two parts, then they could be considered connected like in quantum entanglement. I admit, this sort of view of the mind seems incredibly unsatisfying for me. It reminds me of René Descartes’s pineal gland.

In our “real” world, we really have very little understanding of minds or consciousnesses. What we can suggest is that minds and consciousnesses are very unlike bodies or other physical objects. One cannot crack open someone’s head and look at their thoughts. In fact, if you consider how a closed-circuit television (CCTV) system operates, there is nothing that guarantees that the mind exists within a body at all. The mind and consciousness could exist elsewhere entirely. Only the apparent localization created by the position of the various sensory inputs suggests that the mind ought to exist within the physical body.

Without the ability to experience what others experience, I cannot say much about experiences other than my own. What I can say is that when I have dreamed, I have had dreams where I was convinced that the reality of the dream was the “real” world. Only after I awoke from those dreams did I realize my error, and then acknowledged that the dream was in fact a dream and not real. I have also been so immersed in various experiences, such a watching a very engrossing film or a very intense video game, that I momentarily forgot that the world of the immersion was not the same as the “real” world.

In every case (so far) I can say that once I finished or left the simulation, I realized that it was a simulation. Once I had escaped, I felt that I knew with confidence what was “real.” But that only really suggests one thing: that in order to know that something is not real, I have to leave it into something that is more real. In other words, the only reason I have to suggest this is the real world presently is that I have not yet experiences a more real world.

The Matrix Resurrections: Trailer, Part 2.5

crimson

I was planning on discussing the “vat in a vat” theory in this post, the theory that outside the Matrix is still inside a simulation (also sometimes called the inception theory), but after some thinking about my last post, I came up with another viable theory about what is going on. I cannot help but explore this new idea: what if Neo is actually dead?

I really need to add another spoiler warning here. I am definitely going to go into great detail regarding plot points and specifics of the previous films here. This idea just cannot be discussed otherwise. So, again, do not continue to read if you don’t want spoilers.

Most people who are familiar with this story may think I am suggesting Neo is dead, as in at the conclusion of the third film. Unfortunately, this is not what I mean. I am suggesting Neo is dead, as in at the climax of the first film. I am suggesting that Agent Smith was successful in killing Thomas Anderson, and the Neo that we have all been witnessing since that moment is in fact someone, or rather something, else entirely.

Consider all the important exposition and evidence we are given throughout the first film regarding the “rules” of consciousness and mind/body dualism. As Morpheus reminds us, the mind and the body cannot continue without each other, and we see a lot of evidence to suggest this is the case. When Cypher kills his shipmates in the first film, those individuals die in the Matrix, confirming for us that the mind cannot exist without the body. We are also shown the reverse, in the form of Mouse being killed by the police shortly after the glitch in the Matrix; the body cannot live without the mind. The audience is given very, very clear guidance in this regard. Mind/body dualism does NOT exist in the universe of the Matrix storyline.

However, there is a seeming exception, as I noted in my last post: Neo. For some reason Neo can exhibit mind/body dualism. We witness this character’s mind and body each continuing exclusively in many situations. In the first film, Neo’s mind is killed by Agent Smith in the climax, and yet, somehow his body does not perish. Some may want to argue that the body can exist for up to four minutes, giving the opportunity for resuscitation. While this may be true, the situation Neo is in is grim as we still have no explanation for the continuance of his mind.

Based on the evidence we are provided throughout the first film, injuries sustained by individuals in the Matrix translate into real world damage. Get punched in the face in the Matrix, and your nose really gets broken. Your body manifests that damage in the real world. Again, this is demonstrated time and time again throughout the first film. The mind and the body are always linked. When Agent Smith is pummeling Neo inside the Matrix, Neo’s body is jerking about and his mouth is spiting blood in the real world. If this is all truly how it works, then Neo’s body would have manifested bullet wounds in the real world as Agent Smith shot him. Agent Smith unloaded a clip into Neo’s body at his death.

Neo’s mind and body should both have been finished at the climax of the first film. And yet, somehow, miraculously, Neo survives. Trinity commands Neo to stand up and fight back. And in this moment, Neo is transformed. Neo’s sight is revealed. Neo stops bullets. Neo leaps into Agent Smith’s virtual body and seemingly destroys Agent Smith from the inside. But let us take a moment and think about all this. What really happened? And what makes this one individual so special as to be able to break the established rules about mind/body dualism?

What if Neo really did die? If he really did die, then the established rules given to the audience are upheld. There is no conflict. No mind without body or body without mind. What awakens is not Neo. What awakens is not human at all. If we consider the scene from the second film where Bane’s body is taken over by Agent Smith’s mind (what I always considered to be the most important scene in all the films), then perhaps what awoke is a program of Neo.

Here is what I think could have taken place: Thomas Anderson died. Agent Smith killed him successfully. The human mind is extinguished and the human body lay in ruin (with that four minute opportunity for resuscitation). Agent Smith, confident he has accomplished his mission walks away as Trinity utters that it cannot be true that her love is dead. This is where the magic happens. Thomas Anderson was important to the Oracle and to the Architect. They’ve known about him for some time. They’ve been watching him. Thomas Anderson’s interactions with the Matrix, his ability to press against the rules and laws within the main program, have allowed for his “human code” to interact with the machines’ code. Bits of Neo exist within the system, and have been manifesting slowly, perhaps collected by important machines. In some sense, there is a doppelganger of Neo in the Matrix. Or perhaps something like a backup.

After Thomas Anderson dies at the hands of Agent Smith, this doppelganger has now the opportunity to manifest itself within the dead body of Thomas Anderson. The doppelganger is not human remember. It never had a body. It is simply a program within the machine world. Perhaps not even a complete program either. Just some free floating code, sort of like a computer virus. What awoke may simply be this doppelganger, who only knows of itself as Neo.

At this point, our new Neo would certainly have all the abilities we see from this point to the end of the third film. When he sees the Matrix, he doesn’t see what the Matrix program feeds him, he sees the code itself. As a sentient program, he can manipulate the Matrix entirely, stopping bullets and leaping into Agent Smith’s body, destroying it from the inside. As a sentient program, there is nothing that permanently ties him to the body of our former Thomas Anderson. Mind/body dualism CAN now exist within this new entity.

I am not suggesting that this new entity is in any way malicious. As far as it is concerned, it is Neo. It may even consider itself to be Thomas Anderson as well. It gains all the memories and experiences of its blueprint or template, sliding easily into the life of the dead human. It would explain how distant Neo becomes throughout the following films. How disconnected from humanity he is. The talk with Councillor Hamann becomes far more significant now. Far more telling.

For all intents and purposes, this doppelganger is Neo, and the audience doesn’t necessarily need to know any different. Certainly none of the other human characters need to know any different. Perhaps the machine characters don’t need to understand either, though I suspect they actually do. At least a few of them. This would also very much explain the character of the Merovingian.

Consider the Merovingian for a moment. Clearly a sentient program. But also possibly a previous iteration of the One, as is hinted at through the story and is suggested by many fans. Let us, for a moment, assume that is correct: that the Merovingian is a previous iteration of the One, perhaps even the first iteration. How could he still exist after so much time? If he were a human, his body would have decayed long ago. If we assume the information we are provided is in some way correct, and Thomas Anderson was in fact the sixth iteration of the One, then we can estimate that this cycle has been going on for at least 120 years. That is, each new iteration has to be born inside the Matrix, live a bit of a life, and grow up to be old enough to manifest the One. Being conservative here, I will suggest that each iteration takes at least 20 years to manifest (and probably longer than that). Therefore, the difference in age between our Neo and the original, first iteration would have to be in excess of 100 actual years.

However, if the Merovingian is “just” a sentient program, he could exist in perpetuity. There is no suggestion made in the story that the machines “grow old and die.” It is suggested (by the Oracle) that programs are frequently deleted, and can either choose to hide in the Matrix “or return to The Source” (“The machine mainframe”). She suggests that programs are not deleted due to age, but instead for other reasons: “Maybe it breaks down. Maybe a better program is created to replace it.”

This all suggests that the Merovingian is such a program, hiding in the Matrix. If the Merovingian was also another iteration of the One, and if the One is “the sum of a remainder of an unbalanced equation inherent to the programming of the Matrix,” as the Architect suggests, then it suggests that the One is in fact a sentient program, and not actually human.

I hear many of you screaming now: what about the fact that the Architect suggested Neo is “irrevocably human?” There are two possibilities as I see it. One possibility is that the Architect chose his words carefully, as to say “irrevocably” is not to say one is human, but to instead suggest one cannot escape one’s human heritage. If I am correct, and Neo is simply a sentient program, then it cannot escape it’s doppelganger quality of playing a human, even believing that it is, and therefore behaving as or being limited by its human qualities. The other possibility is that the Architect doesn’t know. I’m more inclined to believe the former in this case, as the Architect is both incredibly pompous and intelligent; I think his choice of words is incredibly important, especially in cases where the words he chooses have multiple meanings. For example, the Architect explicitly suggests that Neo’s “5 predecessors were, by design, based on a similar predication.”

“By design.”

I believe that the Architect knew what he was doing. I believe that the Architect clearly understood how “the anomaly is systemic – creating fluctuations in even the most simplistic equations.” The Architect understood that the existence of Thomas Anderson (and those like him) would automatically generate rogue code patterns within the system of the Matrix. What was needed was to create a vessel to manifest the rogue code. An opportunity to purge the code using a human vessel. Thomas Anderson NEEDED to die to make room for the rogue code to occupy his deceased body. Upon doing so, the rogue code allowed for the path of the One to play out: “The function of the One is now to return to the Source, allowing a temporary dissemination of the code you carry, reinserting the prime program.” A line that has been debated at length, and yet seems clear as day if my theory is correct.

I could not help but write this post. Even though it only manifested in my own mind over the past couple days, it seems to make a tremendous amount of sense to me. The Neo we all know from the second and third films is not the Thomas Anderson from the first film at all, but a doppelganger that thinks it is human. A possession of a human body by a segment of anomalous code, just like Bane was. Bane was the hint to all of this. As Agent Smith is Neo’s equal and opposite, does it not stand to reason that both had to possess a human body at some point in the story?

The Matrix Resurrections: Trailer, Part 1

crimson

I’m always so serious in my posts. Today, I will try to be a little less serious. I will talk about the upcoming film The Matrix Resurrections.

As many of my friends know, I am a bit of a Matrix fanatic. Not that I think the story is real or even entirely realistic. However, I do think it is an amazingly rich story that can be enjoyed on countless levels, and poses numerous deep and philosophical questions. Put simply, the story makes one think. For me, this frequently makes a story (whether it is a film or a book) very enjoyable.

I will not rehash what has taken place in the story up to the point in time of this latest film, in part because it would take too long. Also, because I would not want to spoil it for those of you who may not be familiar with the story. Seriously, if you are reading this and you either have not seen the previous films, or if you simply have no idea about this story, I urge you to stop reading right now and go watch them. The first film for sure, but I encourage you to make your way through all three films, and The Animatrix as well. The entire story is quite interesting, and there is much to talk about throughout.

This is your spoiler warning. Do not continue reading if you do not want me to spoil the story for you. I will try to be somewhat vague regarding some things, but ultimately I suspect I will have to go rather deep simply to make my points. So, once again, this is your spoiler warning.

This past week, the trailer for the upcoming film was released. For many of us fans, we have been eagerly awaiting this trailer, as well as the film. Speaking for myself, I was not disappointed.

The first thing to establish is that this is a trailer. As a trailer, its purpose is to get audiences excited and eager to watch the upcoming film. It is an advertising vehicle intended to get “butts into seats” at the theaters. As such, I immediately expect the trailer to be misleading and deceptive. In fact, knowing the trouble Marvel studies has gone to with their own film trailers, misrepresenting information and outright manipulating scenes in order to mislead audiences, I expect this trailer may have done similar things. On the other hand, considering the complexity of the story, the producers may not have had to do very much anyway.

I’m not going through the trailer frame by frame or anything like that. Just proposing some things regarding what may be going on and what sorts of things I noticed and looked for in the trailer. Significant things that I believe will be important in the upcoming film. At the front of this line of important things is the fact that Neo appears to be our star and protagonist.

For anyone who knows the story, this one detail should already raise questions. After all, at the conclusion of the third film, Neo died. It is true that it may be possible to suggest Neo wasn’t entirely dead. In his mutual annihilation with Agent Smith, like all the other residents of the Matrix, Thomas Anderson may simply have been purged of the virus and re-awoken with the rest. This is certainly not made clear in the third film, but it remains a possibility.

I suspect there are a number of possible interpretations for what happened at the end of the third film. Firstly, it has been established numerous times that the “body cannot live without the mind,” as Morpheus makes explicitly clear in the first film. At the conclusion of the fight between Neo and Agent Smith, Neo’s mind should be gone, leaving his body without a mind. His body, now a lifeless husk, being gracefully taken away by the machines, possibly in reverence. But we also know that the machines are particularly adept with the simple flesh and blood bodies of humans as well, as is establish in the The Second Renaissance Part II. It would not be very difficult for the machines to take Neo’s body and repair or maintain it for future uses, if they were so motivated.

With his body’s survival established, this leaves us with his mind once again. Neo’s mind should have been destroyed, along with Agent Smith’s mind. For me, this is a critically important plot point, and the reason I believe the story works so well. Neo cannot survive the elimination of Agent Smith. They are “equal and opposite,” as the Oracle suggests, and as such neither can exist without the other. Or, to put this another way, one cannot be destroyed without destroying the other. Neo must die at the end of the story. So his existence in the fourth film becomes a very interesting puzzle.

One simple way they might explain Neo’s mind would be to copy it from backup. This, of course, suggests that the Matrix is being regularly backed up. This could also explain how the Matrix is restored as well, suggesting perhaps the Matrix was restored from a previous backup. However, as I say all this, it seems less and less reasonable. If backups were being done, then human minds would be regularly backed up, and at times, restored, suggesting human minds were being restored from time to time. This would be highly problematic, especially considering the sorts of information that would regularly be overwritten.

Very generally, backups are typically performed at instantaneous intervals, however, Agent Smith’s infection of the people inside the Matrix takes place slowly over time. To restore a backup of the Matrix, one would need to be done from before Agent Smith becomes virulent, which takes place at the end of the first film.

As case example of overwriting minds, let us briefly discuss the character Bane. In the second film, Bane’s mind is overwritten with Agent Smith’s mind. Upon leaving the Matrix, Agent Smith is effectively possessing Bane’s body. This is a significant plot point in the second and third films. Is Bane’s mind literally and completely overwritten with Agent Smith’s mind? This is not made entirely clear, and involves suppositions regarding mind/body dualism. In fact, this entire discussion assumes that minds and bodies can exist independent of one another, something that Morpheus will remind us cannot happen.

It is here that we enter some very murky waters. There are many, many examples of science fiction that exist today where the assumption of mind/body dualism is assumed. That minds can exist independently from bodies. In the Matrix story itself, at the end of the second film and the beginning of the third, it is suggested that Neo’s mind and body do, in fact, separate completely. It requires the character Link and others to utilize “some pretty ancient hacks” in order to successfully reintegrate Neo’s mind with his body. In fact, Link doesn’t even recognize Neo inside the Matrix, telling Morpheus that he “couldn’t tell what it was” that was with Morpheus. Of note here is the use of the pronoun “it” as opposed to “who,” suggesting Neo’s mind didn’t even look like a human mind at all.

There are a lot of ways one might interpret this entire situation. Morpheus suggests that minds and bodies cannot exist independent of each other, and yet Neo’s mind clearly was separated from his body for a significant amount of time. Furthermore, Neo’s mind (while separated from its body) clearly is unlike a typical human mind as well. All of this suggests that minds and bodies can actually be separated, however, there may be consequences of such a separation. This likely relates to the special nature of Neo, and why he is able to do the things he does, as noted by Councillor Hamann.

It is unlikely I will be able to resolve this puzzle, but it does strongly suggest the possibility that the machines could do something similar in this latest film. The machines could continue maintaining Neo’s body after the fight with Agent Smith (similar to how the human’s maintained Neo’s body at the end of the second film). The machines could, conceivably find a source for Neo’s mind and then join the two back together. All that remains to explain is where Neo’s mind might be found.

It is also here that we might conceivably have our tension or conflict within the fourth film. Neo and Agent Smith are inextricably tied to one another, at least after the events of the first film. There cannot be one without the other. If the machines found and/or preserved Neo’s mind in some fashion, then Agent Smith’s mind should not be far behind. To be fair, if Neo’s mind is in a condition from before he and Agent Smith merged, then perhaps Neo can exist without Agent Smith. However, in such a circumstance, Neo’s mind would not contain the extra code from Agent Smith: the code from the source. Would Neo continue to have the extraordinary abilities he had without the source code?

It will be interesting to see how the producers of this latest installment explain the mere existence of Neo. It seems very strange to me that he exists at all. And I haven’t even discussed the existence of Trinity…