The Metaphysics and Paradoxes of "Minority Report"

Concerning Possibility 1:

When I ask whether the human failure to predict the future is “epistemological,” I mean simply: does our failure to predict what is to come equate to a failure to know something that is in principle knowable? If this supposition is true, the future is actually a thing already laid out fully formed in some “fourth” dimension, or is at least something all of whose necessary conditions are already fully laid out, so we are merely playing out roles that are constantly bringing it into fruition. The issue in either case is that we humans just do not happen to know this future, because of our lamentable epistemic limitation or “finitude.” Beings who are not finite like us, however, like God, angels, or the pre-cogs in Minority Report, could conceivably have the epistemic equipment—or as Kant might say the “intellectual intuition"—to know it.

Concerning Possibility 2:

The second option raised is a more radical one. It is that our human failure to know the future is ontologically revealing. This failure is not something to be lamented, because it indicates something about the nature of the spatio-temporal universe. What it indicates, quite simply, is that the future is not the kind of thing any creature could ever know, and for the very best reason: namely, because it does not exist as a fully pre-formed set of actualities that could ever be known by anyone or anything.

- Matthew Sharpe, PhD in Is there a Minority Report? or what is Subjectivity?

Minority Report is one of my all-time favorite films for numerous reasons, one of them primarily making me rethink film as a narrative and artistic medium (as well as opening up my love for classic and modern film noir). The premise is this: in 2054 Washington D.C., murder has become a relic of the past thanks to the Precog program, a program which consists of three precogs – children with the ability to predict future murders, homicides and killings – that acts preemptively to prevent would-be killers from committing their crimes. John Anderton (played by Tom Cruise) is the head of the pre-crime unit, leading a routine life until one day, he is preemptively accused of killing a man he has never met. The movie takes off with John trying to prove his own innocence while diving into the truth about the Precog program and the nature of a minority report. 

Minority Report’s premise presents interesting ideas about the ontological paradoxes regarding future predictions – so much so that I felt compelled to write about one of the most fascinating scenes is at the very end (here’s the video link): 

John openly confronts Lamar (the Precog director) about the corruption behind the pre-crime program, bellowing out in rage and fury for everything that has cumulated up until now. The precogs, sensing Lamar’s murderous intent, begin narrating the future yet to unfold, and very closely so to when the actual events are occurring that at one point, John and a precog overlap in what they are saying. This presents some additional paradoxes about the nature of a precog for reasons I will attempt to illustrate here: 

This is a little schematic I drew up to demonstrate how closely the precog’s prediction is in conjunction to the actual event taking place:

• Events (i.e. dialogues) are denoted by letters A through E
• t = 0 is the event occurring during "real-time,” t = +1 is the event being predicted by the precogs, and t = –1 is the event told after fact (which does not apply here)
• ∆y is the time difference between what the precogs predict and when the prediction occurs
• The blue line designates on what time frame (i.e. future or real-time) the precogs narrate what eventually occurs real-time: therefore, the smaller ∆y becomes, the sooner the precog’s prediction comes true; additionally, if ∆y = 0, then the precogs are narrating the events in real-time as they occur (eg. event D)

To better illustrate what I’m trying to get at, here are the events (dialogues) and their corresponding screenshots, and for clarity’s sake overlapping dialogue will be bolded (note: it’s much easier to see what I’m talking about if you watch the video beforehand): 

…

Dialogue A: the precog’s prediction is preemptive before the actual event (Lamar’s and John’s dialogue), as inferred by how the dialogue of the precog and real-time subject (i.e. Agatha and Lamar) do not overlap. 

Precog 1 (Agatha): “Think about all the lives that little girl has saved" 

 

Lamar: ”Think about the lives that little girl saved. Think about all the lives she will save. Let her go. She could have saved Sean.“

John: "Don’t you EVER say his name!!!”

…

Dialogue B: Precog #2 takes over the narrative prediction, which is still preemptive relative to the real-time event (John yelling) taking place. 

Precog #2: “You used the memory of my dead son to set me up”

John: “You USED the memory of my dead son to set me up! That was the ONE thing you knew that would drive me to murder…”

…

Dialogue C: Precog #3 takes over the narrative prediction, which is still preemptive. Note however that ∆y (the time between the prediction and real-time) is shorter, i.e. the cut between the prediction (precog) and event (John). 

Precog #3: “What are you gonna do now, Lamar?”

John: “What are you gonna do now, Lamar?”

…

Dialogue D: This is the most interesting portion of the preemptive narration of the precogs. Here, the precog’s prediction overlaps with the real-time event – that is, both the precog and John say the same line at the same time. This is jarringly different than the nature of the precog’s presented beforehand, which has always been preemptive, and additionally presents another paradox regarding the precogs’ nature (which I will discuss shortly below). 

Precog #3: “How are you gonna – ”

John: “ – shut me up?!”

…

Dialogue E: the precogs revert back from real-time narration to their normal preemptive narration; notably, ∆y is larger than original (unfortunately this is not up to scale in my first schematic) because Lamar and John are not yet together on the patio/rooftop. 

Precog: “Forgive me, John." 

Lamar: "Forigve me, John.”

…

Some may argue that this extends to an argument of pre-destination versus freedom of will, and that our inability to predict the future is a necessary quality: all this and considering what’s presented in Minority Report, I’d say we have for ourselves an interesting case of where narration within the universe – as opposed to the traditional narrative speaking outside of the universe – functions as another unique paradox within the film’s universe; that is, the precogs are simultaneously narrating to us the viewer what is going on and to the people within precrime, and eventually at a small paradoxical point in time the precog is essentially rehearsing what is occurring real-time. Additionally, we can consider how this works from a metaphysics/modern physics POV, and what paradoxes (or impossibilities) arise as a result of the precogs preemptive narrative nature: 

Some notes about this schematic of the future and past light cones: 

• y-axis = time t from event A, x-axis = distance r from event A
• event A occurs at (0,0) 
• 1/c = the limit, derived from rise/run = ∆y/∆x = ∆t/∆r = 1/velocity = 1/speed of light (speed of light notated as c)
• Above x-axis = the future, below the x-axis = the past
• r distance is a function of t time, r(t)

Now, to illustrate what occurs before event A (past light cone) and after event A (future light cone): 

1. The shaded yellow area below the x-axis = all cumulative events leading up to the occurrence of event A
2. Event A occurs
3. At t₁, subject at rᵢ away from event A is affected (r₁ ≤ rᵢ)
4. The shaded dark green area above the x-axis = all events possibly affected by event A up until t₁
5. The light green area above the x-axis = all events possibly affected by event A past (and inclusive of events prior to) t₁
6. All of these events – past and future - demonstrate the core concept of causality: events prior to event A cumulate into the occurrence of event A, and the occurrence of event A affects all possible future events afterwards. 

Some important notes to consider regarding modern physics: 

• The information of event A travels at the speed of light along the limit 1/c
• Light always travels  forward, therefore the information of event A progresses forward as well (aka you cannot jump back to the past light cone once you have crossed the x-axis into the future light cone); by extension, information cannot be “time traveled” backwards
• EVERYTHING is dependent on event A
• EVERYTHING is in the same frame of reference (aka everything occurs during the same relative time)
• r is always less than or equal to rᵢ because nothing travels faster than the speed of light
• 1/c is on both sides of the y-axis because the information of event A travels in opposite and complementary directions (i.e. if I snap my fingers between you and I, the sound of the snap would travel towards me and towards you at the same time) - thus, the light cone shape results on a 2D scale
• The value of 1/c is VERY small, thus indicating that at a given, small interval of time, the information of effect A has traveled much farther with respect to r – that is, for a small about of t, you travel a large amount of r with respect to the limit 1/c that dictates how information of the event traverses forward in time. To scale, t is short and r is large
• Anything that occurs outside the shaded areas of yellow, dark or light green are caused by a different event other than event A

With all of this in mind, we can now see why the precogs, by default of their predicting nature, violate the principle of causality with their Mode of Operation (M.O.): 

1. Before the precogs are stimulated by a murderous vision (event A), they exist before event A takes places, and are as unaware of its possibility as anyone else (they exist below the x-axis at t = -1)
2. Once the precogs are stimulated by the murderous vision (event A), they essentially jump towards the future where event A has already occurred (they experience above the x-axis at t = +1) and learn of the information regarding event A
3. The precogs then jump back below the x-axis back to the past light cone from the future light cone to pre-event A, yet still remember the information they retained from post-event A and are now able to narrate the occurrence of event A
4. During the unique event D, the precog narrates what’s occurring real time (they are at t = 0), yet continue to violate causality since they are at a r distance away from event D, which occurs at t=0, r=0 - that is, how the precogs are perceiving the event is occurring faster than the speed of light c 

This presents a lot of paradoxes and problems within the realm of modern physics since accordingly, you cannot know of an event’s occurrence until after the event has occurred by virtue of light (and by extension information) progressing forward only: to predict the future is to essentially “time travel” from before to after and then back to before the event occurs and retain information, which would mean you made information “progress backwards” - which is impossible from what we currently understand with modern physics. 

The precogs essentially violate the nature of causality by their own preemptive nature, which adds another interesting question of whether or not they included themselves in the occurrence (or not) of event A: 

The acknowledgment of this evident paradox raises what is decisive in terms of our trying to decide the philosophical issue of freedom-necessity raised by the film, both within it and “for ourselves.” It shows that each of the pre-cogs’ predictions in Minority Report represents a phenomenon exactly akin to Bertrand Russell’s famousparadoxical list. As you may know, this is a list that aspires to list all the lists that have ever existed that did notinclude themselves in what they inventoried. As Russell reasoned, when we try to think about such a list, and specifically about whether it might ever be completable, we soon run into an aporia.

– Matthew Sharpe

Based on the metaphysical extrapolation of the precogs functions, they are essentially entities that are within and external to progression of time within the universe of Minority Report yet still adhere to the same frame of reference relative to the same universe: they can predict an accurate future without including themselves as a cumulative effect into whether or not effect A occurs, yet at the same time are very much embedded within the past light cone that filters into effect A even occurring all. By nature, they are the perfect paradox that breaks any “rule” or “limit” of modern (but not theoretical) physics: they’re both humans and Gods, effectively. 

The precogs really present a inherent paradox to the metaphysics of accurate prediction, and whether or not the ontological paradox really exists if the precogs do not factor themselves as entities also cumulating into the occurrence (or not) of any given event – all of which makes Minority Report a fascinating film to consider from a metaphysical, philosophical and narrative POV. 

*Note: I learned ALL of the (meta)physics after two hours of consulting from a nuclear engineer and previous knowledge. All qualms with my mistakes should be shot at me, slingshots and all. 

Two hours were spent on this whiteboard as I (re)learned aspects of light cones, special relativity, and the limits of light, time and information progression. 

The Macabre Elements of Coraline's Opening Title

Coraline is really one of those movies I can’t seem to get enough of: there’s always some minute detail that I see each time I re-watch it, from the technical to the artistic to the (un)intentional symbols that arise. For this article, I was inspired to revisit the opening title of Henry Selick’s Coraline after seeing this oddly engaging and grotesque film called Rabbit. Watching the stop-motion sequence, I noticed how incredibly macabre Selick framed and focused onto each detail, both foreshadowing the story yet to unfold and instantly setting the eery, non-Disney tone masterfully and originally depicted by Nail Gaiman. Here’s the video and following the cut is the scene dissection analysis (edit: seems that YouTube isn’t allowing me to upload the clip, which is rather unfortunate. I guess the screenshots will have to do; for those who would like to have a mood emulated, listen to this song – it’s what plays during the opening title): 

Here, we see a doll floating into the window sill and two sharp, metal hands reaching out to grab and bring it inside. Already we know something’s odd: we do not see who is grabbing the doll, nonetheless why or how the doll is floating towards us to begin with. Many first viewers will not even notice that the doll is actually that of the previous child the Other Mother lured into her Other World; for veteran viewers, this is a clever ruse for catching the viewer’s attention, button eyes and all. 

The doll is placed onto the middle of a board, various sharp tools on either side. The placement of the sharp tools is no mistake: it is very likely Selick wanted to evoke classic surgical horrors, where the appearance of surgical tools make us feel uneasy immediately. Additionally, the board is not sanitary white, and is instead matted and old-looking – obvious signs of many previous usages, thus adding additional unease.

 The gross attention to the destruction and decomposition of the doll is the key macabre element of this entire opening sequence. There’s almost an disturbing obsession with what is being taken apart: the scissors ripping up the doll’s dress, framed to look like it is cutting up the spinal cord; the extreme close up focus upon the strands of hair being pulled out from the doll’s head, one stitch at a time; the surgical precision of removing both button eyes, a removal that is almost too quick and efficient; the grotesque focus on the doll’s mouth being ripped open, almost as if her cheeks are being slit open by a knife; the almost brutal removal of stuffing as if one were gutting an animal; and the quick, nearly mindless inversion of the doll inside out with a thrust of the needle hand leaves the now faceless doll hanging limp upside down, a moment almost too reminiscent of paintings depicting infanticide. We still do not see who is performing all of these actions, adding to the unease and unknown of everything we have seen thus far. 

The focus of the sand being poured into the doll’s mouth is a notably macabre element, echoing from historical episodes of torture by pouring hot substances down or into one’s mouths (or other orifices). While we can construe the sand as “giving life and weight” to the doll, notably the needle hands are holding back the head, making it look like the doll is being forced to ingest something – almost as if it’s being tortured into drinking something it does not want. 

Again, the doll is placed upon the surgical board, ready for the needle hands to do their bidding. Spread eagle, with both hands to the sides, the doll looks incredibly vulnerable, its abdomen spread wide and open in a sign of susceptibility. Placed next to the sharp tolls, there’s an eerie feeing that this doll is about to be poked and stabbed with some sharp things by needle hands. For those familiar with anatomical dissections, the doll is laid out in an appropriate position for such, again emphasizing the surgical horror elements of the sewing board. 

Selick’s focus on what needle hands is doing is grossly macabre for one strong reason: there’s always something sharp in frame, and we only see needle hands performing the tasks – no face, no figure, no nothing. From the threading of the needle to the threads going in and out of the doll (mouth, eyes), and even from the precise insertion of blue hair and the cutting and machine sewing of clothes – these aspects are focused in upon so closely that it’s even a bit violating to our senses: not many people pay attention to these kinds of details on a day-to-day basis, and there they are – projected right into our faces. 

As the newly sewn doll is let go out of the window, there’s almost a relief to see the new doll intact after the deconstruction and reconstruction process; however, this relief is short lived, for as the doll floats away there is a eerie reminder that we have not seen the face or figure, and for first time viewers there’s a eerie disconcertion about the role of this unknown character. And as the window closes, first time viewers are left to ponder what exactly the story will entail; for veteran viewers, it’s a eery and macabre foreshadowing done well. 

Scene Dissection – Envy's Transformation before Roy and Riza

Months ago when I watched episode 53 of Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, I noted a nice little sequence that took place towards the end of the 22 minute arc. It involves Roy Mustang and Riza Hawkeye standing before the homunculus Envy, who has just revealed the true murderer of Roy’s best friend, Maes Hughes (which took place back around episode 9 or 10, if I recall). As Envy stumbles back into action, he taunts Roy while transforming into his beastly form. 

It’s a interesting sequence not only because of the fluid animation (though to be fair, it was reused from a previous episode) but also because of how it places Roy and Riza in relation to Envy’s transformation. While the camera switches angles and depth to create a lot of movement, there’s still a spacial establishment consistent throughout the 30 second sequence. Here is a video and some screenshots to help illustrate what I’m getting at: 

These two screenshots show a nice establishment of where Envy, Roy and Riza are standing relative to one another: with Envy directly on screen, we understand that he is closest to us while Roy and Riza are farthest from us, relatively. And while they are all generally dead center it’s a short enough cut (with plenty of movement) to not be a stagnant framing choice. 

The camera switches to Envy’s hand, showing the beginnings of transformation…

Then a switch to his face…

…and then a simultaneous movement of Envy away-upwards and the camera away from Envy establishes where his transforming hand and face are in relation to his environment (it also helps establish his size). 

The camera switches perspective, now looking at his profile/lateral part of the body…

The camera switches again, now behind Roy and Riza with Envy in the far off distance/horizon. Here’s when my particularly favorite part starts: 

We see Envy beginning to transform into his larger self…

…and he explodes off into his true form. The camera tilts upward and slightly zooms in simultaneously, switching into a low angle framing. It makes Roy and Riza look very small and Envy much more intimidating, which is perfect given the circumstances. 

We now get a small glimpse at Roy and Riza’s reaction, which is a small but effective moment since a lot has been happening up until this moment (plus it makes them look badass since they’re completely calm). 

We get a closer look at Envy’s face, which is monstrous and (frankly) intimidating. As he roars, the camera transitions to this….

…a close up of his neck region, where the transformation completes (and heightens the further disturbing nature of his true form). 

We see Envy’s hand smash onto the floor, emphasizing his gigantic stature…

And then finally, with a low angle framing the camera tilts upwards as Envy lowers his head down towards Roy and Riza, again establishing his intimidation factor and gigantic size. 

This last shot is a small but important detail: all characters are spatially established relative to their environment and to each other. We know Envy is huge, but now with a master shot we see how much bigger he is compared to Roy and Riza, and how far these characters are away from one another. We also get a sense of how big the room is – height, length, and width wise. 

Correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe Envy was animated primarily by Tomokatsu Nagasaku (please please please, if I’m wrong send me a message so I can correct this immediately). From a basic composition POV, I feel that Nagasaku has a better grasp for framing and establishment than Kameda (who’ve written about previously). Kameda may be more altruistic and creative in certain respects, but Nagasaku does a better job at keeping the action cohesive and fluid on many levels. 

Recommended Reading

• Bond vs. Chan: Jackie Shows How its Done, by David Bordwell – this is a fantastic demonstration of how action sequences can be framed either into cohesiveness or disjointedness. Bordwell analyzes excellent aspects of action. 

• Behind the Scenes: Chrono Trigger and Action Movie Philosophy, by Freddie Wong Productions – an very video nice breakdown of how an action sequence is filmed, and how editing can really affect the cohesiveness and fluidity of how a final sequence turns out. 

Scene Dissection - Tell No One

Edit: here’s the link to the video. 

I watched the French film Tell No One via Netflix this past summer and was enraptured by its excellent directing by Guillaume Canet. The premise is this: eight years after the murder of his wife, doctor Alexandre Beck is slowly recovering until one day, he is implicated in the murder of two people - a case he is not familiar with at all; his situation becomes additionally more complicated when he receives a mysterious email which appears to be from his deceased wife. As with many thrillers, Beck finds himself on the run to prove his own innocence and to unravel the mystery surrounding his wife and beyond.

One scene particularly caught my attention, most distinctly for Canet’s directing choice on subject focus and framing. It takes place when Beck goes to confront a man associated with his wife; at the moment, he is being helped by Bruno, a gangster who feels indebted to Beck (as I’ll show and narrate below with pictures). 

For most thrillers, the directors tend to make the film protagonist-centric, where the central character tends to dominate the screen whenever a scene involves him. However, Canet deviates from such tendencies in this particular sequence: while small, its a significantly different directing choice that even now, I find it interesting to look at consider. Here goes: 

We first see Bruno’s friend go out, establishing where the scene is taking place. There is a distinctly observational POV since we are seeing movement taking place from afar; that is, Canet chooses to frame the scene from afar instead of closer up. 

The camera switches focus to the interior of the car, specifically the sound system/radio where the time is clearly displayed. This further establishes the context of the situation with regards to location, space, and time. 

We now see Bruno and Beck. Beck is the main focus, but Bruno does the most speaking in this frame (in fact, Beck only says “no” in response to Bruno’s question). 

Both spring to action at the sound of whistle, most likely sounded off by Bruno’s friend. The whistle is off screen, which adds to the unexpectedness and sudden springing of events. 

The camera focuses again on the group of people, now conglomerated into a distinct circle. Again this from the POV of sitting in a car: this is a very observational choice, which adds to the sort of ambiguity as to what exactly is going on since we don’t see up close how the group afar is interacting with one another, or how they may behave. 

Beck immediately gets out of the car and closes the door, leaving Bruno behind. Here’s where it gets interesting: instead of following Beck as he walks towards the group, Canet instead chooses to situate the camera from the POV of Bruno and his friend, thus maintaining the observational (even voyeuristic) aesthetic of the entire scene. The conversation between Bruno and his friend goes as so: 

The camera is still from the car’s POV, except even further away as it now resides and films from the backseat. Now we are observing not only Beck from afar, but Bruno (and his friend) slightly distanced away as well. 

Bruno’s friend asks why they are helping Beck…

Bruno explains that three years ago, Beck helped his son. 

The police believed Bruno had beaten his son, while Beck observed carefully that Bruno’s son was a hemophiliac and that Bruno was wrongly accused. 

At this point, we (as well as Bruno and his friend) observe something is going wrong from afar: first there’s a shout, and then there’s a tussle. 

These last three screenshots demonstrate a noteworthy choice on Canet’s part: the camera is still situated in the car’s backseat, concluding this entire sequence with the same framing aesthetic it began with - that of impersonal observation. While common school of thought would be to keep the action and intensity going at full throttle – easily accomplished with frequent close ups and tracking of the main character’s actions and movements - Canet instead chooses to place us in a moment of quiet observation while something is going on: we don’t know what exactly happened between Beck and the gang, but the movements leading up to this conflict are quiet and relaxed enough to jerk us back into action and attentiveness - just like the whistle the beckoned the doctor to get up and confront the gang. 

Canet’s directing choice in this scene also does something few directors do, which is to subtly imply the voyeuristic aspects of film and narrative: we are observing one man’s confluence of confusion, ambiguity and mystery; while he and others may be negatively affected by events within the universe we the viewer are safe and sound in our seats, free to watch and observe voyeuristically their ordeals and troubles until the very conclusion of such. Similarly, this voyeuristic aesthetic was also explored (much more heavily) in another French film called Caché – a film which I will leave for another time once I (re)watch it, notes and thoughts and all. 

Ghosting

‘Yes, but they – Wurst, and Knaust, and Pripasov – will tell you that your consciousness of existence is derived from the conjunction of all your sensations – is, in fact, the result of your sensations. Wurst even goes so far as to say that where sensation ceases to exist there is no consciousness of existence.’

'I would maintain the contrary,’ began Koznyshev. 

But here again it seemed to Levin that just as they were reaching the root of the matter they again retreated; and he made up his mind to put a question to the Professor. 

'So if my senses are annihilated, if my body dies, no further existence is possible?’ he asked. 

– Anna Karenin by Leo Tolstoy

After reading this passage from Tolstoy’s masterpiece, I stopped and pondered for awhile on the entire discourse and its implications. The idea of existence has been broiling in the back burner of my mind for quite some time, and this small portion from Anna Karenin amped me back into full throttle. Likewise, I decided in lieu of Levin’s question – no, if one’s senses are annihilated and one’s body dies, existence is still possible. 

The professor in Anna Karenin assumes that sensory experience shapes and defines one existence, which is a fairly reasonable assertion. However, when you consider the assumptions the statement, there are implications rather questionable regarding basic humanity and human conditions: essentially, the professor assumes that existence is directly related to how much we can sense and feel from our immediate environment – assuming, of course, the professor equilibrates all sensations as equal (non-equal considerations of sensations are too subjective to really add or detract from this statement). This linear relationship is really the downfall of the sensory-existence argument for a few reasons: 

If this is the case, then those who have lost some amount of sensory function are less of an existing conscious. Take for example an amputee: now that they’ve lost an appendage, compared to their former selves these individuals are less of a conscious existence by virtue of having less surface area of their sensory nerves (while there is the phenomena of “ghost limbs,” strictly anatomically amputees have lost a certain amount of sensory functions). We could also look at paraplegics, who can no longer use their lower limbs – according to the professor’s assertion, these individuals are only half the conscious of a non-handicapped peer. We can easily look at other physical conditions that render individuals into relative handicapped status – blindness, hearing loss, anosmia, burn victims, etc – and see that the professor’s statement, while intriguing, is short-sighted: it essentially states that a existence is solely dependent on the cumulative sensations one is able to acquire and experience; on the latter fold, those who are not a normal physical condition are essentially “lesser” consciousness since their cumulative sensations are comparatively less by virtue of their own physical condition. The professor’s logic equates public figures like Stephen Hawkings and Roger Ebert as “lesser” conscious existences because both rely on artificial means to articulate their thoughts to the world. The implications of his argument extends to cases individual who is in a vegetative state, where their bodies still function biologically but the probability of them ever regaining conscious thought or cognitive function is less than the an elephant suddenly appearing in your living room out of thin air by virtue of metaphysics – according to him, they are greater conscious entities because their bodies can still pick up sensations. 

I disagree with the professor’s statement, simply because I define existence slightly but significantly differently: that one’s root existence is the conscious thought, and that this root existence manifests into the physical condition of a body that one’s cognitive function puppeteers and performs with. Additionally, if someone is effectively brain dead without any chance of recovery – then I believe this individual has effectively died, regardless of their body’s physical condition. This distinction between one’s conscious and one’s physical manifestation relates to the prime idea of this article: ghosting. 

I’ve watched Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex (and 2nd GIG as well) on-and-off for a few years, and this past summer I rewatched some episodes again with my older brother. Each episode is dense, complex, and philosophically intriguing – so much so that if you stop paying attention for a few moments, you’ll likely be lost as to what’s going on and what the character’s are thinking. 

GITS: SAC take place in the future, where cyborg technology is sophisticated and commercial. It’s not uncommon to see someone with a cybernetic attribute walking around and living everyday life as per usual (in fact, nearly everyone has cybernetic eyes and chips in their brains, enabling them to receive information without a screen and so forth). This cybernetic society essentially ties everyone together on a metaphysical-like technological net – almost as if you could access the world wide web anytime, anywhere. Likewise, this means capable hackers can cause societal mayhem if unchecked – which is where Public Security Section 9 comes in, led by Major Motoko Kusanagi. 

Motoko is a unique character in the GITS: SAC universe because unlike most others, her body is completely cybernetic – she possess no natural biological function. Her condition is a result of a plane crash she was in when only six-years-old: she was in a coma until it became obvious she would die unless she unwent full cyberization. This process forced Motoko to completely separate body and mind to the extreme; unable to feel real sensations as a cyborg, she regards her body more as a shell her true essence resides and acts upon within – her ghost. 

Theoretically, in the world of GIST: SAC you could surpass “dying” by uploading your conscious into the collective technological “net”; and while your body would decay, your conscious still exists, and therefore you have not necessarily died (however, in the unfortunate case the server somehow crashed and wiped out all data, you really would cease to exist). More pressingly however is the idea of one’s ghost and shell being separate entities, that the relationship between mind and body is not entirely necessary for one to still exist. 

Here’s a thought experiment: say somehow, in some dimension you were able to separate your conscious from your current body and then occupy a different body – are you still the same conscious, the same person? 

I believe that if one still acts out certain behavioral traits and personality quirks unique to themselves regardless of what body, what shell they occupy – they are still that same individual. They still exist as a distinct conscious. 

In one episode of GITS: SAC, called “Runaway Evidence – Testation,” a rogue tank runs amok the city, hacked into the by recognition code of the tank’s designer, Kago Takeshi, who had died a week earlier. It turns out the “ghost” of this tank is actually that of Kago’s: due to religious reasons, his parents refused to let him undergo cyberization despite his serious medical problems, which invariably led him to physical dying at a early age; however, he manages to transfer his ghost into the tank, and before Motoko short-circuits the tank’s brain she discovers in a brief moment that Kago simply wanted to show his parents his new steel body. 

“Runaway Evidence” is an intriguing episode because it really addresses the core argument of whether one’s existence solely depends on the physical medium upon which they act out their conscious functions. While we never know if the tank performed similar personality traits Kago performed while biologically alive, its clear that the tank’s motive derives from Kago’s conscious, his ghost. His action are no different than a hermit crab migrating into a different shell. 

This all leads to the final portion of Tolstoy’s passage in Anna Karenin, where Levin asks if one can still exist if their physical being is somehow exterminated – that is, can one still exist without a shell? 

I believe yes, for various reasons. If you look around you, their a billions of information and narratives documented into multiple media forms – books, film, painting, photography, everything. Every word, every letter, every frame and every brush stroke that goes into each of these mediums was done by someone, a distinct somebody, and as we gloss over and intake the contents of each medium we invariably soak up the presentation, wording, dilution and creativity of this unique and distinct somebody. In the midst of these actions, we experience the remnant pieces of one’s ghost. 

In a less abstract level, you can easily consider the internet as a prime example of separating one’s ghost from their shell, mind from body. As a distinct individual on the net, you define yourself either which way you want, whether it be by writing, subject, ethnicity, age, interests, purpose, and so on; but, unless you know the unique user in real life, there’s no real way of confirming one hundred percent what a user says they are is really who they are in real life. On the net, we are defined solely by how we want to be, independent (not mutually exclusive) of who we are in real life. 

For instance, I could easily say that in real life, I look like this: 

Or this: 

Or even this: 

If I were savvy, charming and mischievous enough, I might actually get away with claiming my genetic origin as a Timelord, with a TARDIS and Sonic Screwdriver and all. 

More seriously though, is that our existence on the net is defined more or less by how we present ourselves in writing (and perhaps photography or video, inclusively). This is wholly separate from our physical being, our shell – yet we still exist in our the form of our distinct internet avatars, cached and all. We still communicate to one another via the internet medium: from the established email to live tweeting, we are speaking to one another, directly and indirectly so, distinct conscious entities in mental collision – and all of this independent of our bodies in the physical world. 

So to finally answer Levin’s question: yes, I believe you can still exist if your body has deteriorated or been destroyed, so long as your ghost remains a distinct entity through whatever natural or artificial means possible. This is the ultimate philosophical implication of ghosting, of one’s ghost of existence.