The Gift of Youth

You are sitting on the operating table, shaking with nervousness. You tell yourself that once this procedure is over, everything will be better. A doctor walks in, and noticing your discomfort, offers a reassuring smile. “I remember how nervous I was my first time. In fact, I’ve had it done twice now.”

Twice! This doctor must be over two hundred years old! You stare into the small mirror you brought along with you. You analyze the wrinkled, sagging skin lining your face and the grey, wiry hair on your head with disgust. Seventy six, a feeble shadow of your former glory. You look back to the doctor and swear he doesn’t look older than thirty. “Well,” he chuckles, “now it’s your turn. You ready?” You close your eyes.  

You feel yourself sinking. A bright light, a loud whirring, what is happening? A loud snap, and everything is warm. You are underwater, panicking. You cannot breathe. You hear the sound of bubbles, splashing, and a muffled yelling. With your legs, you push yourself to the surface and gasp for air. You open your eyes and can finally see the smiling face of the doctor. He is holding you by your shoulders asking how you feel. You begin to speak and startle yourself. A completely unfamiliar voice. A young, powerful voice. It worked.

You leap from the pool in such an excitement that the doctor doesn’t even have a chance to remove the wires from your body. Your body! Thick, flowing hair, tight skin, and muscles that you haven’t had in decades. You can see clearly now, clearer than you can ever remember being able to see. You can jump again! You can dance again! The gift of youth has made you euphoric.

Then you stop. You notice a very familiar face staring back at yours from the operating table. Sagging skin, wiry hair, and piercing eyes on a face that appeared to be in pain. The eyes are unsettling, and before you can ask the doctor to close them, the mouth opens, and lets out a cough. Startled, the doctor moves quickly to the operating table, seemingly confused. You ask him what’s happening but he doesn’t answer.

You hear a quiet, weak, but familiar voice from the operating table. “Doc… I don’t think it worked… what’s going on?” The doctor is backing slowly away from the table. He is muttering something to himself and shaking his head. “You’re sorry? What are you talking about?” you hear the weak voice ask. You approach the doctor cautiously. He is still muttering to himself, rocking himself back and forth on the floor of the operating room.

“What have we done? What have I done? It was supposed to be a transfer, not a copy…” The doctor is laying on the floor, hyperventilating and hysterical. “I am not a copy! I am not a copy!”

You lock eyes with the person whose life was once yours, then look back in the mirror. What am I?

***This story was inspired by the thought experiment known as “The Brain in the Vat” by Hilary Putnam. The brain in the vat believes it is living a real life when in reality, the life it knows is just a computer simulation. Similarly, the new, young person in the story believes themselves to be the transferred mind of the old person in a younger body, when in reality they are just an exact clone. If there were an exact clone of your mind in another body, is it any less you than you are? Is consciousness something physical that actually lies in the brain, is it the sum total of all of your conscious and unconscious thoughts, emotions and memories, or both?