Individuality and identity.

Abstract

THERE comes a time in the life of every normal child when a realization of its individuality forces certain problems upon its attention. This realization may come, at times, with much suddenness. The form of the actual problem may vary by reason of the precise mode in which it came into being; but in general it takes some such form as the presentation of the insoluble question: "If I had not been Mother's little boy, but the little boy of the lady next door, should I have still been I?" This is the dawn of the psychic realization of individuality, and most commonly, after the first childish questionings have failed to find satisfaction, most of us are content with the realization and probe no further into the problem. Only to some tortured introspective souls, like Amiel, does the problem of individuality become a life-long obsession. In his intimate journal he wrote on the same day (October 26, 1875): "Every individuality is an insoluble enigma and no beginning explains it" and "Perhaps there are no true individuals and, if so, no beginning but one only, the' primordial impulse, the first movement." But despite the bewilderment created by the philosopher's speculations it may be worth while to make some little inquiry into the origin and cause of our individuality and to attempt to see what bearing this abstract problem may have upon the question of identity and the practical business of attempting to establish the identification of an individual. We are all the products of a single living fertilized cell. As that cell multiplies itself and unfolds in the process of development it is at once apparent that progress is made by stages that are arrived at in a very definite sequence. As Von Baer said: "The general characters of the big group to which the embryo belongs appear in development earlier than the special characters." Suppose we took the single fertilized cell that is one day destined to develop into a pig and assume that, while we are quite ignorant as to its parentage, we are possessed of a general knowledge of the characters of animal types. We should first be able to appreciate that the little mass of developing cells was on the road towards the making of a Vertebrate; next, as development proceeded, we should feel justified in concluding that it was a vertebrate belonging to the subgrade Amniota. After another short interval, we would be certain that we were witnessing a Mammal in the making; then that this mammal was one belonging to the order Artiodactyla. Next we should recognize it as belonging to the family of the Suidae, and soon we could identify it as belonging to the genus Sus within that family. Before development were done with it would be apparent that, within the genus Sus, we were dealing with an example of the definite species Sus sera/a. Last, but perhaps our intimate knowledge of pigs might not go so far as this, we might realize that this thing was a very definitely individualized pig among the generality of pigs-even if the pig itself did not realize it. This individuality, did we know enough to recognize it, might be manifested in two ways: by some physical peculiarity or by some psychic characteristics, or more probably by both together. Now, without laying ourselves open to the charge of harking back to any of the outworn arguments between the rival claims of Epigenesis or Preformation, we seem to have every right to assume that, as we watch these things unfolding, we are witnessing the manifestation of a succession of characters, all of which are somehow inherent in the original fertilized cell, and all of which are somehow inherited by that