The Matrix: How Do We Know What Is Real?

“You ever get that feeling where you’re not sure if you’re awake or still dreaming?” asks a bewildered Neo.  I can honestly answer, yes, I have on several occasions found myself pacing around my house, touching the furniture and smelling the fruit in the kitchen, seeing everything in what I believed at the time to be perfect and accurate detail, only to suddenly see something terribly wrong or out of place.  A complete inability to read words, the unexplained yet accepted presence of a complete stranger in the house, or doors in places they shouldn’t be.  However, unlike myself, Neo does not have these markers to make him doubt the reality around him.  

“The Matrix,” by Andy and Larry Wachowski raises several philosophical issues, one of which is ‘How do we know what is real?’  There are several ways we can address this question in the context of the film.  The first is through the use of Plato’s Cave.  Falzon’s description of Plato’s Cave bears a shocking resemblance to the operation of the Matrix within the movie.  Prisoners since childhood are bound so they can only see shadows on the wall in front of them, cast by unknown beings carrying artefacts before a fire, and accept without question that what they see is all there is to reality (Falzon, 2007).  In comparison, “The Matrix” depicts nearly the entire human race as prisoners, literally bound within coffin sized pods by cables and wires, electronically fed a false reality so believable that hardly anyone stops to question it.  The shadows on the wall is the Matrix itself, controlled and created by the Machine race; the carrier of artefacts and jailers of the human race.  

In the film, the rebels are certain that the Matrix is the illusory reality, and the harsh and scorched post-apocalyptic Earth is the actual reality.  But how do we discern reality from illusion?  As Morpheus says, “What is real?  How do you define real?”  “Real is simply electrical signals interpreted by your brain.”  So how do Morpheus and the rebels know the real world from the fake one?  Falzon suggests the possibility that the protagonists of the film never truly escape the matrix, and they have moved from one false reality to another, a ‘higher level’ matrix as he puts it (2007).  It is entirely possible that the rebels’ fight against the machines is a contingency plan set up by the Machine Empire in order to satisfy those humans who reject the safer “reality” of 1999.  This idea lets us explore another philosophical view on how to discern reality: Descarte’s evil demon theory.  More sinister than a natural dream, the demon (the Machines) creates a realistic dream specifically designed to quell all thoughts about whether the dreamer is awake or not, usually with the intent on exploiting the dreamer, in this case the metabolic and electrical brain energy to fuel the robots that now rule the planet.  Part of this theory is that the demon (or genius, depending on sources) can tell when the victim starts to doubt the reality fed to them, and is able to alter that fed reality to satisfy the victim (Falzon, 2007) (Malcomson, 2004).  In other words, the human rebellion of “The Matrix” may think they have escaped the matrix and are satisfied in fighting against the machines, when in reality they are still captives in pods, completely unaware of their continued imprisonment.

This contrasts with Plato’s cave, in that prisoners who escape from the cave usually find the outside reality to be a more pleasant and enjoyable place, whereas the evil demon theory suggests that most humans are content to live in ignorance due to a fear that reality may not be as comfortable as their dream world (Malcomson, 2004).  Sypher is the representation of this view, with his willingness to betray Morpheus due to his belief that “ignorance is bliss.”

References

Falzon, C. (2007). Philosophy goes to the movies (2^nd ed.). New York: Routledge

Malcomson, P. (2004). The Matrix, liberal education, and other splinters in the mind. Humanitas, 17(1/2), 139-158. 

Bubba Ho-Tep: Personal Identity

 “Bubba Ho-Tep” (2002), directed by Don Coscarelli, explores the concept of personal identity through memories.  The protagonist is Elvis Presley, played by Bruce Campbell, who traded places with Sebastian Haff, an Elvis impersonator, during the 70’s to escape his life of fame and drugs and is currently residing in a nursing home and suffering simply from old age.  His friend in the nursing home is Jack, played by Ossie Davis, a black man who insists that he is former president John F. Kennedy and survived the assassination, but was dyed black and abandoned after being patched up.

Looking through the philosophical lens, this film offers an interesting discussion into whether these men are really who they claim to be.  How do we know who they really are?  How do they for that matter?  Descartes says that one has to have the same mind over a period of time to be the same person, and that a changing body has nothing to do with it (Falzon, 2007).  This gives some substance to Jack’s claim of being a former president.  Despite being completely the wrong colour, he appears to have vivid memories of being JFK.  Locke (as referenced by Falzon) has a similar view and believes that memory is the key to personal identity.  Falzon states that “Identity through memory can only be established by remembering ‘from inside’.  It is not enough to have external physical reminders…” (p.82, 2007).  By having memories of their experiences as the President and the King of Rock is enough, according to this theory, for them to be who they say they are, because memories are at the core of what makes a person an individual.  However, there are problems associated with Locke’s view, the most prominent being that of misremembering (Falzon, 2007).  

Humanity cannot escape age and the problems that come with it; physical and mental deterioration.  Assuming the film takes place in the year it was made, 2002, then Elvis would be 67 years old and JFK would be 85.  What is the possibility that both or one of them are suffering an age-related mental illness that affects the reliability of memory?  The audience is more inclined to believe Elvis/Sebastian’s claim as the film focalizes through his thoughts and memories.  Interestingly, the audience does not see many ‘visual’ memories of his experiences of Elvis Presley before the switch, only as Haff after the switch.  His job in earlier life was pretending to be Elvis, so could this false persona, in a deteriorating mental state, have overtaken the identity of Haff?  Does this, according to Locke, in fact make Haff Elvis?  If the real Elvis was still alive, would there be, in spirit, two Elvis Presleys?  Both could make claims in regards to physicality, personal knowledge, and personality.  The same reasoning could be applied to Jack/JFK.

Ganeri suggests there is a difference between remembering an event, and remembering experiencing an event (1999).  If anything this casts serious doubts on the identities of our heroes.  I can remember the assassination of JFK, not because I was there but because I have seen camera footage and read about the incident.  I did not experience the event first hand, but I can still remember facts and details of it.  It’s like seeing a picture of the Mona Lisa, but not ever seeing the painting first hand; you still know what it looks like.  Both Haff and Jack claim the identities of two very famous and well documented people, making it easier for them to assimilate knowledge and create false memories.  This is further suggested by another resident of the nursing home who believes himself to be the Long Ranger.  Unlike Haff or Jack’s identities, which are both very possible, the Lone Ranger is a purely fictional character.  This man, sadly, is suffering from a deteriorating mind, allowing the possibility that the same is true of Haff and Jack.

However, Ganeri also asks whether we truly remember an event if we have forgotten the emotions and perceptions of that event (1999).  This puts a more hopeful light on the real identities of Elvis and JFK.  Throughout the film, they don’t just remember and recount events and facts about their life.  They speak passionately about their views on their lives; Elvis becoming upset and regretful about his late ex-wife, Pricilla, and his estranged daughter; and the relief and happiness of his new life as Sebastian Haff back in the 70s.  As the two recall events with emotion and understanding of the experience, it is more likely they are drawing on actual experiences.

References

Falzon, C. (2007). Philosophy goes to the movies (2^nd ed.). New York: Routledge

Ganeri, J. (1999). Self-Intimation, memory and personal identity. Journal of Indian Philosophy 27(5), 469-483.  Retreived from: http://www.springerlink.com.ezp01.library.qut.edu.au/content/h44r402185146q87/fulltext.pdf

Groundhog Day and the Pursuit of True Happiness

When weatherman Phil Connors (Bill Murray) realises that there is no tomorrow for him and therefore no consequences, he does what many of us would: eats, drinks and smokes his way through the day, before taking on more immoral activities such as theft, violence, and conning women into sex.  Prior to the recurring Groundhog day, Connors is cynical, self-centred and arrogant, and furthers his own ego and self-importance by constantly putting others down.  However, it is also alluded to that he is stuck in a proverbial rut with his work and presumably his life when he mentions that it will be the fourth year in a row where he must cover the Groundhog day celebrations in the small town of Punxsutawney.  A time and place he does not hide that he hates.  It is ironic, then, that he becomes stuck in a rut of time and forced to live the same hated celebration with the same hated people over and over again with no escape. 

Connors quickly grows tired of his self indulgence and hedonism; possibly he finds no thrill or reason in it if there are no consequences.  Or, as Socrates relates hedonism to a leaky container that constantly needs refilling (Kupfer, 2005), he eventually finds there are no more instant pleasures to be had during that one recurring day.  Finding no more point to his binges, he sets his sights on his producer, Rita (Andie MacDowell).  Despite using the recurring days to gather information to try and be the perfect man for Rita he finds that he cannot bed her, no matter what the situation or how happy or perfect her day has been.  Connors fails to realise that even though he is trying to change himself to suit Rita, it is still ultimately for his gain and pleasure, not hers, as she will just forget the next morning.  As the audience sees the final slap Rita gives Phil, as she continues to figure out the ‘perfect day’ was just an attempted sexual conquest, Connors loses hope and falls into despair.  He feels there is no point to a life he cannot control and decides the only option left for him is suicide. 

Connors successfully kills himself over and over again, but continues to wake up each morning at 6:00am.  At this point, self-indulgence and death have lost all meaning.  It is only after an honest talk and quality time with Rita that he realises that there is more to life than pleasing himself.  Connors then begins a quest to assist as many people as he can using his immense accumulated knowledge of that one day.  He finds pleasure in self-fulfilment and bettering the lives of others, eventually leading to the true and honest love between himself and Rita.  

Kupfer states that happiness cannot be pursued directly by personal pleasures and hedonism (2005).  As we saw with Connors, this only leads to emptiness and despair.  “Happiness comes about only as the indirect result of realising our human potential in activity that is intrinsically valuable,” (Kupfer, 2005, pp. 285).  For Connors, these intrinsically valuable activities are long term projects that require study and attention, such as playing the piano, ice sculpting and reading literature.  The film suggests that focusing on long-term artistic pleasures and developing knowledge instead of the short-term pleasures of sex and food benefits the soul and helps maintain a healthy mental state (Falzon, 2007).  Plato believes that discovering a good life is a rational task that requires thought and planning (Falzon, 2007).  Phil Connors ultimately achieved just this, by going through several phases of self-discovery before finding the best method of living.  

References

Falzon, C. (2007). Philosophy goes to the movies (2^nd ed.). New York: Routledge

Kupfer, J. (2005). Virtue and happiness in Groundhog Day. In T. E. Wartenberg & A. Curran (Eds.), The philosophy of film: Introductory texts and readings (pp. 284-294). Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing.

Hollowman and Morality

“Hollowman”, directed by Paul Verhoeven, is a classic Ring of Gyges story involving a brilliant scientist who takes part in some extremely immoral behaviour after successfully making himself invisible.  The traditional Gyges story suggests that any person, no matter what their moral strength, would abandon all ethics and do whatever they wished if they knew for certain that they would not be found out or not have to pay penance for their misdemeanours (Falzon, 2007).  I, however, prefer to have a little more faith in humanity, and that it would depend on the individual on what a person does with the gift of invisibility.

The Gyges character in “Hollowman” is Sebastian Caine (Kevin Bacon), the scientist who discovers the secret of indivisibility for a military project and tests it on himself.  Caine is established as a self-involved, egotistical person, with questionable personal morals, often referring to himself as God.  So does the power of invisibility exaggerate his personality to that of a murderer?  Or is that the path every person would be doomed to if granted this power? 

Baggini (2011) states that morality requires empathy and understanding, two qualities that Caine lacks, and that an inability to relate to people is a failing of character.  By believing he is superior to ‘ordinary’ people, including his colleagues, Caine’s sense of morality is already low to begin with, suggesting that he was always capable of these deplorable acts, but only societal constraint and fear of capture that prevented him from following through on these thoughts.

On the other hand, Baggini (2011) also suggests that a person being ‘good’ or ‘bad’ greatly hinges on whether a person can resist small temptations, and that giving in to one small temptation is enough to eventually snowball into disastrous consequences because ordinary human decency is fragile.  Once that decency is broken, it is difficult to stop, like a damn bursting.  Caine’s morality is extremely fragile due to his less-than-model personality and negative view of the ‘common’ man.  His ‘gateway’ temptation is breaking the lab rules and going out, which leads to voyeurism, rape and multiple murders.  However, he still cannot be considered ‘good’ simply because he had not yet given in to his dark desires prior to becoming invisible; he is still an awful human being, albeit a gifted and intelligent one.  Even before becoming invisible, Caine had given in to the temptation of personal pride and glory by lying to the military about the status of his project.  It is possible that this event is what led him down the road to self-destruction, caused not by the power of invisibility but by his own greed.  His ‘gift’ simply aided his actions.

“Hollowman” shows us the worst of humanity, but does not explore what may have happened if a more relatable and empathic character was granted invisibility.  I doubt that a person who is kind for kindness sake and not for personal gain would sink to the immoral levels of Gyges.  If a person is understanding and compassionate towards their fellow human being, it is unlikely that they would give in to desires as they would consider more than their own personal needs but also the needs of the people that would be affected by any actions taken whilst invisible.  However, a person like Sebastian Caine who only truly cares for himself would very easily succumb to the power of being unseen.

References

Baggini, J. (2011). Serious men: the films of the Cohen brothers as ethics. In H. Carel & G. Tuck (Eds.), New takes in film-philosophy (pp. 207-222). London: Palgrave MacMillan.

Falzon, C. (2007). Philosophy goes to the movies (2^nd ed.). New York: Routledge.

Who Framed Roger Rabbit: Personhood

“Who Framed Roger Rabbit”, directed by Robert Zemeckis, is usually looked at for its technical achievements and critical success, but it can also be viewed as a discussion for the classification of ‘personhood’.  The film can be related to various ethnic minority issues throughout history as the Toons are often treated as second class citizens.  This point is emphasized by the existence of ‘human only’ clubs, and Toons being payed less than Humans for similar employment.  These issues, both real and within the film, were born from the refusal to accept certain social and ethnic groups as ‘people’ because they were not viewed as being fully human (Falzon, 2007).  These past claims, thankfully, cannot be supported when the status of personhood is looked at philosophically.  Locke and Kant shared the view that personhood is characterised by rationality; the ability to decide and create purpose for existence (Falzon, 2007).  Midgely feels that emotion and sociability play a more integral part in determining personhood (Falzon, 2007).  Nearly any functioning human being, regardless of ethnic or social status, can be classed as a ‘person’ and therefore equal to other ‘persons’ under these criteria.  But what of non-human beings?  Can certain animals or objects feel emotions or rationalise their existence?  Are they equal to human ‘persons’?

This brings me to the Squeaky Shoe issue within “Who Framed Roger Rabbit?”  During one of the more disturbing scenes of the film, Judge Doom (Christopher Lloyd) lowers a Toon shoe into a vat of ‘Dip’, destroying the Shoe completely.   The problem with this is that the Squeaky Shoe obviously portrays various levels of sentience.  While maybe not considered intelligent, it clearly exhibits fear and pain as it is disintegrated, and a want for affection only moments before.  The Squeaky Shoe could be considered on the level of a ‘real’ animal in the sense that it is alive, but not capable of rational thought or intelligence.  But lowering a real animal into a vat of concentrated hydrochloric acid would be considered by most Westerners as extremely immoral.  But what about destroying a real shoe?  Is that considered immoral?  Most people would say ‘no’, a real shoe has no mind, thoughts, emotions or sentience to be considered.  A shoe is a tool created by humans to benefit humans.  So is the Squeaky Shoe an animal or an object?  Is it alive?  Is it a ‘person’?  It has eyes, a mouth, a voice, appears to display emotions, yet it is a shoe. 

According to Locke and Kant the Squeaky Shoe may not be considered to be a ‘person’ as it does not seem to show any rationality, and therefore can be destroyed without moral qualms.  However, Litch raises the point that infants, small children, and retarded adults are not rational, but killing them is considered morally wrong (2002).  Midgely’s ideas of emotion and sociability as a prerequisite to personhood seems to better fit the Squeaky Shoe, but this implies that certain animals could be considered ‘persons’ such as dolphins, primates, dogs and cats.  Yet many Westerners would not accept these animals as equal in rights and status, and would consider many as property or pets.  There are many more Toons that exhibit more overt ‘person’ qualities than the Squeaky Shoe, such as Benny the Cab who displays complex emotional, social, and conversational skills.  Could a car be considered a ‘person’?

References

Falzon, C. (2007). Philosophy goes to the movies (2^nd ed.). New York: Routledge

Litch, Mary M. (2002), Philosophy Through Film, London: Routledge. Chapter 4.