So … I don’t want to say anything glib, here, Ms. Nguyen. As you can see from the responses above, this is a topic of debate, with many on either side thinking themselves indisputably right despite ongoing disputes.
A few things, though.
If we’re really going by questions of science-- that is, in context, of cold, factual reality unvarnished with subjective experience and psychological coping mechanisms-- I will go to bed tonight a (subtly, probably) different person than I started the day as, both physically and neurologically (in body and mind, to the degree there’s a distinction) (and there kind of mostly isn’t). Even if I stay in a clone for an extended period, a body is essentially a rotating collection of matter that gets almost fully replaced every few years.
In some sense, at the cellular level, I’m a crowd. I won’t be quite the same crowd ending the day as starting, and all the more if I, like, get drunk (a deadly mass-poisoning incident for my brain cells).
A person is a process. Life and change go together very well. I live, therefore I change.
That said, yes, a clone job is an immediate, complete swapping out of that crowd, and some of the things that get swapped in are a little … odd? … Alarming? (Neurogel, osteoplastic.)
My … to simplify this, let’s say “employer,” and I, have different feelings about this.
Directrix Phonaga rarely swaps clones and in fact you can tell how long she’s gone without having to by the length of her hair, emphasizing the individual “reality” of each one. I don’t think she feels like she’s really died each time; it’s more like treating each life she’s given with respect. Life, sort of categorically, is important to her.
I treat my existence more lightly, swapping clones almost like changing clothes, and for this reason I try to make sure that they are superficially as similar to each other as possible (to myself as well as to outside observers) even though they may have radically different capabilities. To me, my life ends if my current personal timeline is snipped-- if I have to revert to a backup of myself, creating a discontinuity between events related to this identity and my current “self’s” subjective experience. As long as I can maintain continuity of experience, I’m mostly untroubled.
I don’t think either approach (or really most) is indefensible. The real question is what you can be comfortable with. Existential questions like this generate confident answers from those who are confident in their path and approach, but ultimately the only “true” answer will be the one you can be at peace with in your own subjective experience.
One thing I can absolutely and unreservedly agree on, though: we’re definitely not immortal. That’s just marketing. Permanence is probably still out of our reach. Even in the most optimistic interpretations of our state, it’s still completely possible for us to die.
We’re most nearly “immortal” while safe in our pods, ready to be copied on the spot, but the typical capsuleer career is actually pretty short. Some retire, some die, some just disappear. And even if you don’t, there’s no guarantee you’ll remain anything like how you are. I personally didn’t make it a decade without permanent, radical, life-altering change. (Having backups is great, but means hacking and sabotage targeting the infomorph are in fact threats-- part of why clone bays are so heavily defended.)
But even if permanence were possible, would it really be something to aspire to?
Whatever I am, I am alive. I breathe, I dream, I age (even if that gets reset so often it’s not noticeable), I work towards futures I might never see. I change.
My predecessor, before the sabotage, thought of herself as a ghost, a copy of someone who died. And maybe so am I. But even if I am, so what? I’m here now. I’m alive.
And so are you.
That’s what seems important to me.