Thursday, February 28, 2008

Identity and Renovations

Founders Hall is not Founders Hall

It is difficult to miss the large wooden sign planted in front of Founders Hall depicting a sketch of the Hall following renovations. Standing there, with this historic building in the background, the problematically minded may wonder if the ‘New Founders Hall’ is still Founders Hall at all. This question of identity seems simple enough; still any uncertainty is not only the lonely ponderings of misguided metaphysicians.
What is it about the identity of this building which needs to be preserved so the renovated building is still Founders Hall? Intuitively, there is a problem with constructing a new building across campus and claiming it is also Founders Hall. Therefore, it seems there must be something inherent in Founders Hall, some essence, which needs to be preserved.
Those who are generously funding renovations claim it is necessary to preserve the clock tower. Yet, why not preserve the door frames, or decorate the renovated building with pictures of the original? Granted, in an economic sense, if the funding for renovations requires the original light bulbs to be preserved, then it seems prudent to comply.
It is often the seemingly inconsequential questions which stimulate the harshest debate in philosophical circles. While these are often ignored in everyday activity, there are always underlying philosophical quandaries. These occasionally rise to the surface of discussion and influence important actions in very real ways. The age-old trouble of identity, in this instance, pertains especially well to the renovation of Founders Hall.
The classic illustration of this problem is known as the Paradox of Theseus’ Ship. The story begins in a major port of ancient Athens with a ship owned by a merchant named Theseus. His ship has sailed across the entire known world and weathered many nights on the rough seas. Upon the death of Theseus, his ship is inherited by his son. At this time, old rotting boards are replaced with new boards and the sails are patched before Theseus’ son sets sail.
Over the following years, as Theseus’ son persists in the family trade, the rudder wears out and needs to be replaced; the oars are all discarded and working replicas are provided. Even the original mast cracks in a violent storm and is also replaced. Eventually, every original piece of the ship has been substituted for new materials. But is this still the same ship? If not, when did this ship cease to be Theseus’ ship?
Following this thought, if Founders Hall was leveled to the ground and an exact replica built in its place, could this building still be Founders Hall? This is a tricky distinction. However, buildings destroyed by fire or warfare are often rebuilt in nearly exact likeness and name with no questions asked.
Pushing this idea, imagine the materials from the original Founders Hall are all recycled and used to build a replica of Noah’s Ark. Is the ark then also Founders Hall? Answering yes, and assuming the ‘essence’ of Founders Hall is inherent in the plywood, bricks and mortar sounds wrong.
It seems reasonable to assume portions of the Hall are being preserved, not because of some belief that identity is inherent in the bricks, but because they are prominent features of the building. The clock tower is what identifies the original and the renovated as one in the same.
Keeping in mind the story of Theseus’ ship though, how is a ‘prominent feature’ determined? How many original bricks need to be reused for the identity of Founders Hall to persist? If the conclusion that identity is not inherent in physical material is correct, then why preserve any of the building at all? At some point, it becomes unreasonable to claim an entirely new entity is identical to the original.
At the very least, these are interesting questions to ask. The true answer, most likely, needs to involve the implications of emotional attachments to Founders Hall. In the end, the actual mental procedure may be further complicated by other matters or even irrelevant. However, it is clear this is an important and intricate discussion which has very real implications. Those funding renovations for Founders Hall would probably agree.

ryan hamilton
-taken from Feb. 28th Juniatian (omitting editor's corrections. i didn't really approve.)

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

thinking at half-mast

The flag on campus has been flying at half-mast for a number of days now. I was puzzled and asked a number of other students about this. "Who died?" Eventually, someone pointed out the recent shooting at the university in illinos. This has been publicized, we've heard about it, read about it, and the wreckless and unexplained murder of college students slips our mind.

Convicts are doctors, too

Thinking about thinking

Juniata graduate, Jim Kalinski ‘03 was recently expelled from John Hopkins Medical School when it was revealed that Kalinski held a record of aggravated assault and armed robbery. Kalinski created a fake identity, which he used to conceal his past, after his release on parole in April 1999. His falsified records were only noticed when Kalinski applied for a grant to continue his medical studies at John Hopkins.
The incident raises many ethical concerns for the medical community as well as safety concerns at Juniata. Professors at Juniata were shocked to hear about Kalinski’s past. One professor, who wished to remain anonymous, said, “Jim was a model student, polite, helpful, and involved in student life. He graduated at the top of his class.”
With meager legal precedent for the expulsion, John Hopkins has come under fire from human rights groups. They claim that Kalinski was wrongfully expelled; they say that he is not being judged on the basis of present behavior or performance, but because of the stigma attached to ex-convicts.
On the contrary, the National Medical Association (NMA), in an official statement claims, “The removal of Kalinski will uphold the trust which the public places in the hands of medical practitioners.”
Kalinski’s case, though entirely fictionalized, has an alarming resemblance to the actual case of Karl Helge Hampus Svensson. Svensson was recently expelled from The Karolinska Institute in Stockholm, Sweden where he was studying medicine.
According to the New York Times, it was discovered last fall that, “Mr. Svensson had been a Nazi sympathizer who was paroled from a maximum-security prison after being convicted in 2000 of murder, a killing the police called a hate crime.” In prison, Svensson took classes online and was then accepted into the prestigious Karolinska Institute.
With his criminal record out in the open, controversy arose concerning the character of those men and women whom the public depends upon for its continued health. Just as pressing however, is the ethical concern that a capable individual can be denied a future on the basis of his past. Should an ex-convict with previous Nazi sympathies be allowed to become a doctor? Maybe he has changed his ways.
Svensson proved himself through exceptional coursework and questions about his past were never raised. The discussion really centers on a question of human nature. The answers to the complicated questions at hand rely on the answer to one simple question: Can people change?
From one point of view, it can be argued that Svensson possesses the ‘know-how’ and intelligence to prove himself as a capable doctor. Is it right to deprive the public of a competent medical professional? If human nature is essentially determined by nurture, then it seems reasonable that a person who made unacceptable decisions in the past can be turned around. These ideas can be used to build the argument, made by human rights groups, that Svensson’s expulsion was unjustified.
On the other hand, if human nature is essentially determined by nature, then it will most likely be argued that Svensson cannot be trusted. Once a bad apple, always a bad apple. If a person’s identity and character are determined at birth, there is no rehabilitation project that can ever reform a convicted murderer.
However, there are not only two options. There are some who argue that human nature is determined by a combination of nature and nurture. This makes the issue even more complicated. There is also the notion that a ‘medical professional’ is not just a person with the necessary practical skills. Some suggest that a doctor is also a person who makes the kind of rational, moral decisions which a man guilty of murder has exhibited he does not understand.
The public places an almost unreasonable trust in medical professionals. Would the case be different if Svensson were training to be an architect and not a doctor? Is this a question of trust in the individual or comfort for the public? Which should be more important? It is always interesting to see how basic assumptions about human nature can determine policy and action in a very real way.

-RH, Juniatian, feb. 14 '08