Why Is the Ship of Theseus Paradox Still Relevant Today?

Are you interested in understanding identity? The Ship of Theseus paradox poses an interesting question: If every component of a ship is replaced, is it still the same ship? This ancient puzzle has never been fully solved, and as our knowledge deepens and technology advances, exploring questions about identity and change becomes more important than ever. But why?

Theseus, the Greek hero of myth who defeated the Minotaur and navigated the perilous Labyrinth, is renowned for his ship. Philosophers have been fascinated by it for ages.

Plutarch tells us that when Theseus sailed back from Crete to Athens after killing the Minotaur, his ship became an object of veneration. For many years afterward, Athenians looked after it carefully and used it on special religious missions to Delos.

But over time, parts had to be replaced. Some timbers rotted or were damaged in storms. Others wore out through use. Little by little, the ship changed: every one of its parts was replaced at least once with new material.

Consider this: if almost everything about an object changes, is it still the same object—or something else entirely?

In ancient Greece, thinkers debated whether a ship that had been repaired so many times that little of its original wood remained was still fundamentally the same vessel. Suppose every discarded plank was saved and used to build another ship exactly like the first. Which one would be considered the “true” Ship of Theseus?

These questions go to the heart of what we mean by “change” and “identity.” Is an object defined by what it consists of? Or does it comprise something more than physical material—a certain essence or history? When is anything ever truly “the same,” and when do we need to acknowledge a completely different entity altogether? The Ship of Theseus paradox forces us to confront these big ideas head-on.

To solve the Ship of Theseus riddle, we must first understand how objects can remain unchanged despite their composition altering over time. Philosophers have debated this question. But by examining a few different solutions, we might make headway:

Same Ship, Different Times

In the Ship of Theseus paradox, there’s a solution that says if two identical-looking ships exist at different times, they’re not the same ship. Instead, every moment is special in some way—even unchanged ships are unlike each other from instant to instant. This view challenges what most people believe about identity and suggests a more abstract way to think about it.

To replace our ordinary ideas about what makes something the same over time with something else might mean using different tools from metaphysics (the branch of philosophy that deals with questions like these). That could include thinking about a kind or property called “Ship of Theseus” that applies whenever a ship docks or an event involving reconstructed ships happens.

The roots of this idea can be traced back to the ancient Greek philosopher Heraclitus, who used a river as an example. He said that if you stepped into the same river twice, the water would be different.

Heraclitus’s remarks were subsequently taken up and elaborated on by thinkers like Plutarch. For example, Plutarch argued that change is everywhere; nothing ever remains exactly the same because everything is always in flux. Thus, it makes no sense to say you can step into the same river twice—because even the second time around, it will have changed.

To agree with this view requires rethinking what we mean by “the same.” Simply consisting of identical particles isn’t enough: patterns of behavior over time also matter.

Aristotle utilized his concept of essence to address the Ship of Theseus problem. According to him, things are composed of matter (what they’re made out of), form (how they look), and essence (the stuff that makes them what they are).

In terms of the Ship of Theseus, this meant that even if you changed every single part one by one, it would still be the same ship because its essence hadn’t changed. The planks—which most boats’ hulls are made from—might not be original anymore, but their idea of moving people or things across the water while floating is still the same.

Moreover, Aristotle emphasizes the significance of expertise in sustaining identity. The boat was originally assembled by skilled craftsmen who employed specific tools and techniques. If they later substitute old planks for new ones using similar methods, they would preserve not its matter but its design (its formal cause) and thus its identity.

Another way to make this point might be through an analogy from another philosopher—like Heraclitus’ river riddle about things that are always changing yet fundamentally the same. Rivers, consisting only of moving water, most definitely change shape over time even as they remain recognizably themselves. Theseus’ ship is like that, too. Even though individual parts may get swapped out, as long as overall shape and purpose endure, it remains the same.

According to Aristotle, the answer lies in recognizing that although physical things might change over time, an object’s essential qualities do not. We’ll solve this puzzle if we focus on what makes something itself and understand how things can transform yet keep their identity.

When examining the Ship of Theseus paradox, philosopher Thomas Hobbes takes a materialistic approach and posits that its identity stems from its physical connection to Theseus and his historical journey.

In this view, the parts used to replace the ones on the ship aren’t just any old pieces but specific physical ones that were part of Theseus’ voyage. Because they can be traced back in time when they were associated with him, these pieces have an important connection to his story.

Thus, according to Hobbes, as long as those meaningful traces survive in it, the ship is still the same thing.

This way of thinking emphasizes continuous history and underscores how material helps make something what it is. If objects have ascertainable links either directly or historically back to where they came from (source), then there’s a real connection between things present now, which ties them together with their pasts.

Temporal Parts

The Ship of Theseus paradox has a fascinating possible answer in temporal parts. David Lewis proposed resolving it by breaking apart things we think of as whole objects.

Imagine taking time and cutting through it, recording each moment like something separate. Lewis says these three-dimensional slices are separate moments in time that aren’t related to one another at all. If you accept this idea, suddenly, there’s no problem with two different ships existing in the same place at one time and not at another.

According to this theory, Theseus’ ship is not one thing with an unchangeable nature. In fact, it’s made up of many parts that exist at different points in time – like new planks being added over years of maintenance work.

Imagine you take Theseus’ ship when it first sets sail and then compare it to how it looks after loads of repairs: surely those two versions are nothing like each other? Lewis would say they are both parts of the same story about Theseus’ ship traveling through time.

If all the old wood was gradually replaced, so we ended up with a completely new set of planks on what used to be Theseus’ boat, then by that definition, they’d stop being the same boat altogether.

The Ship of Theseus Paradox has infiltrated pop culture, leading us to debate its importance in stories. For instance, Terry Pratchett’s novel The Fifth Elephant features characters who can’t decide whether an ax—which constantly gets new blades and handles—is the same ax even if it isn’t the one they started with physically but still means something emotionally.

Or take the cruiser Aurora: almost everything on board was replaced except a few deckhouse fragments during a restoration. Is it still Theseus’ ship or something else entirely?

In The Wizard of Oz, we meet a woodcutter with a magical ax that replaces his limbs until he turns into the Tin Woodman. In David Wang’s book, John Dies at the End, an ax is also used to kill someone and keeps getting replaced afterward. But when that person comes back from being dead and says that very weapon killed them, things get pretty confusing.

These stories show how the Ship of Theseus Paradox still intrigues people today. It raises questions about who or what something really is and whether it stays the same if all its parts are gradually changed.

Application of Theseus’ Paradox in the Modern World

Though originating from ancient Greek mythology, the Ship of Theseus paradox holds true in many areas of our lives today.

Take technology—our phones, for example. We might swap out the battery or screen, upgrade the shell or seal over time, but we still think of it as our phone; is it something beyond these parts that makes it so?

This paradox poses such questions. They can also be applied to humans. As we grow, we shed things—beliefs alter, and experiences teach us to see the world differently. And there’s no less tension around individual identity here, either.

In the same way, Theseus’ ship slowly acquired new planks until none of the originals remained; our identities undergo a continuous transformation as different parts are replaced with new ones over time. Could it still be considered you after a decade has passed?

This paradox has other applications, such as art conservation and restoration. When someone looks after something old and crumbling like an ancient painting, how much can they change before it’s not “original” anymore?

It also raises questions about continuity within societies: things change over time – companies, governments, or groups evolve as new generations take charge. Can these bodies still be considered the same if they have changed so much? Or does their essence lie in what they’ve done and why they started in the first place?

The Ship of Theseus paradox is and remains relevant because it forces us to conceive of important ideas around change and identity. In a world where technology evolves, societies change, and people change belief systems, understanding what continuity entails is imperative.

This paradox asks us to consider what makes something or someone the same over time. Is identity just down to physical parts? Or is there something else that keeps something identical (or constant)? It is still being used today in areas like tech, conserving things, and personal identity, showing how useful it is today.

Moreover, wrestling with the Ship of Theseus paradox compels us to ponder what makes something “real.” Over time, institutions and organizations change so much that they appear to be completely different things, but somehow they are the same.

The paradox reminds us of change. It causes one to wonder how we can still be the same while we change continually. Questions like those offered by the Ship of Theseus paradox allow us to rekindle some timeless philosophical debates about who we are and how we make sense of the world around us.