Why There are No Identical Things (a dramatic dialogue in one act)

Hopefully, you'll enjoy this lively dialogue, the form of which I can't help but admit borrows a bit from good ol' So-crates himself...

Dramatis personae: A
                              B
(scene opens upon A and B, who are engaged in heated debate. They are surrounded by several chairs)
A: Well then, why? Why are there no identical things? Why, I can see two identical chairs right there! I demand you explain!
B: First, will you explain to me what you mean by "identical things"?
A: What?! So, you're going to be difficult then? All right, fine then, let me pull out my Dictionary, which I happen to have for just such an occasion.
B: It is good to be so well-prepared...
A: "Identical-adj. sharing the same properties." And "thing-n. an object".
B: Well, so Identical Things would be objects that share the same properties? I may presume that we are in agreement with this then?
A: Yes, go on.
B: Well, I will firstly explain how no physical object can ever be identical. (At this, A starts with incredulity) Though I must admit, this will be a very superficial argument. Let's take these chairs you were just referring to. They seem, by all appearances, to be the same, no? They are the same size, color, shape, built from the same material, etc etc?
A: Yes, they certainly appear to be.
B: Good. And I would wager that if we examined more closely, we would find some sort of marking to indicate that they are both the same model and were probably even made in the same factory, perhaps one right after the other.
A: A safe bet. And wouldn't that prove, then, that there are, if not these two particular chairs, somewhere, and quite often indeed, many different pairs of identical chairs? (his pace quickening as he senses victory) And we could even then assume that, since they are identical to their neighbor, and that that neighbor is also identical to its neighbor, that these are all identical chairs, right on down the line?
B: Yes, that may seem to be so. However, you are failing to realize several very important points.
A: (smugly) And what might these be?
B: Firstly, you have made the assumption that we are working with some sort of idealized machine which crafts each one of these chairs in precisely the same fashion, down to the smallest detail. But this immaculate machine should appear to be even more improbable than the idea of identical things itself. In fact, the existence of this machine is either impossible or it binds us into an infinite regress. For the only way that such a machine could have been built is either by a Greater and Also Perfect Machine (which continues to imply that there is an Even Greater and Also Perfect Machine and so on) or that this perfection emerged magically out of the chaos of the less-perfect machines that assembled it. I hope you'll agree that both seem unlikely. There are always minor deviations and fluctuations in the way things work. They may lie below the surface of our perception, but they exist. And this is not to mention that in all likelihood these chairs are not made by one gigantic, all-purpose chair-making machine, but are more likely assembled by several smaller machines, which increases the chances of deviation significantly.
A: Now you are just being difficult.
B: I agree, this is only a mostly semantic argument. To me, what is far more troubling is this, that you have been unconsciously picking and choosing which qualities of these chairs qualify them for identicality. Yes, it may seem that on the surface they are the same, but even if we assume your perfect machine is at work, for the sake of argument, are these qualities of appearance and materials really the only characteristics a chair possesses? Let me ask you, how were these chairs made?
A: I do not know, but I suppose we have been imagining them on an assembly line.
B: Indeed, as have I. And on an assembly line, are not all items assembled in pieces, and then the pieces are put together as they slide down the line?
A: Yes, of course. I don't see what that has to do with it, unless you are still nagging on the idea that these pieces could be slightly, imperceptibly different.
B: No, actually, I am pointing out their chronological differences.
A: (with a return to incredulity) What is THAT supposed to mean? That one chair is OLDER than another? You cannot be serious, who would consider a chair's age as a difference?
B: And why not? Would you not point out the age of an old man and a child when describing ways in which they differ from each other? Or better yet, do not twins often refer to which one of them is older, even though one may have preceded the other only by a matter of minutes?
A: This is ludicrous. Chairs do not have ages, that is an irrelevant fact.
B: Really? Are not very old chairs valued at high prices as antiques? Does not a brand new chair have a higher retail value than one that has been slightly used and then returned? Then, it seems that the age of a chair, though it may be inanimate, must matter at some point. But, for the purposes of this argument, we have simply decided that it doesn't apply here. However, Time is just as relevant a dimension as any other, and to deny that an object might be identified by its place in spacetime seems like a hard position to justify.
A: Hmph...
B: And, if this does not satisfy you, as I know it won't, we can still consider the three dimensions we easily observe. So far, you have appealed solely to these chairs' intrinsic properties of length, width and height, and yet you have forgotten that they too can be described by their location in relation to another object. For instance, this chair is the one that is to the right of that one, and vice versa. Therefore, they occupy different spaces as well, correct? The very fact that we can distinguish one from the other makes true identicality of objects impossible. You see, the harder we look, the more differences we find.
A: Well, fine then, perhaps manmade objects cannot be identical. However, I'm afraid that this does not indict all physical objects as you so rashly boasted.
B: Is that so? Well then, I ask you to name for me two natural objects which can be identical. Certainly no living thing can be identical. It has been made unique by each and every one of its experiences. Even if we somehow created two clones, aside from them existing in an unconscious vacuum, the very minute they had even the slightest variation in sensation or experience, they would become distinct. And if they "lived" in an unconscious vacuum, then I don't know that one could rightly describe them as living at all.
A: Well, what about two cultures of the same bacteria, created in segregated compartments by parallel procedures? The two would never meet, and as far as they would "know", their respective container would house the entire universe.
B: Yes, subjectively, they would, but at the same time, these two would exist outside of the other's knowledge and so comparison amongst the two would be impossible. And, anyway, outside observers would be able to tell the two apart by exactly the same means as described above, especially their spatial location.
A: (cleverly) What if we were to switch the two specimens without the observer being aware, or even better, if we devised some mechanism to switch the two randomly without our knowing? Then we would not be able to tell the two apart, and therefore, they would be identical!
B: Well, firstly, I will caution you regarding the use of that word "random", but that is for another occasion. In this case, you continue confusing perception with reality. The two specimens would still be different, would have had different histories, but this is something we do not perceive. But, our ability to perceive certain characteristics of an object or not has no relevance to its truth value.
A: You are a tough one indeed. Well, what, then, about the molecules that make up these bacteria? And their atoms? Clearly, they are made up of the same elements which do not change.
B: Oh but again, I'm afraid that you are mistaken, my friend. You see, there is great diversity amongst atoms. Many have particular ions, in which the number of some of their constituent particles, the electrons differ. Not to mention that the electrons are by no means arranged in any specific order. It is not as you may have been lead to believe by your high school Chemistry class.
A: Wait, wait, aren't the electrons at least confined to their specific rings or something like that? I can't remember the exact word right now.
B: Orbitals, and only somewhat. Really, these are only approximations of configurations that we use to give us a rudimentary idea of how an atom is constructed. In reality, the truth is much more complicated. Our increasing precision and sophistication in both theory and experiment have led us to the basic principle and paradox of quantum theory which seems to be Uncertainty. Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle to be exact, but in sum, the picture that quantum theory presents us is merely one of probability rather than of rigid inevitability. When we say a particle is located at a certain spot, we are merely saying that there is a rather high mathematical probability that it is there. However, and though it may seem strange, it just as well could possibly be in any other spot in the Universe, though the chances of that become vanishingly smaller as one moves further away.
Another problem with this argument is simply that, once we have deconstructed an object past its molecular structure and delve into its atoms, it ceases to be what it once was. It is no longer the object, it is an atom.
A: What about numbers then? Certainly, 1 is 1 and 2 is 2. Mathematics is immune from your physical arguments.
B: This again is a flaw. Numbers are simply abstractions, they are concepts that we have agreed upon. They are a way that we can conceive of the world, that we can describe and make sense of it all. There is no thing that is 1 nor 2. They are all merely theoretical objects that we can use to impose order on the world. But remember, that we have already shown that the objects we conceptualize by them are not identical and so grouping them together can only be approximate.
A: So this is it then? We have reached the threshold, and there are no identical things. I find I can no longer argue you, and I humbly concede.
B: Don't take it too hard. In fact, I may be able to offer you some consolation. We have still one step to go, though it stands on the outskirts of, possibly even beyond, our ken. There is a twist ending to this story. Atoms, as you know, are not as elemental as their name implies. The word originated with the ancient Greeks such as Democritus and their idea that there is some sort of uncuttable particle (atomos). In the late 18th and into the 19th Century, it seems scientists were a bit hasty when they deemed the hydrogen structure the "atom", for we later found that the atom could be cut further, into protons and neutrons and electrons. As time went by, other subatomic particles were discovered. Eventually, even the particles themselves were found to be made up of tinier components called "quarks". It seemed that we were bound in an infinite regress. However, (and fortunately), many scientists generally now agree that we have reached the bottom level of fundamental particles for reasons that I currently am shamefully ignorant of. Still, scientists have lead to question what made up these quarks. Some theorists have come to a most surprising conclusion. According to Einstein's famous equation, E=mc2, which implies that matter is interchangeable with energy. String theorists assert that particles are made up of tiny loops of energy vibrating through more dimensions than we can see. This seems to suggest that in fact, when reduced to the most basic levels, all matter is composed of energy. So, when we have simplified all things to their absolute most fundamental essence, in a way, they are all made of the same thing. If this proves true, at the most basic level of the Universe, we are all one. THERE IS NOTHING BUT IDENTICAL THINGS!

(At this point, the curtain closes on a thoroughly confused A and B, and the disembodied voice of The Narrator speaks)

I'm sure that by this point you, attentive reader, have a burning question: So What? Why should I care that things are never truly identical, even though we cannot perceive the ways in which they differ? If we can't see their differences, can't we just consider them as the same? Won't we all simply go crazy if we think this way? I certainly understand your concern. Indeed, it is a question which I have pondered for a long while myself. At first, when this concept revealed itself to me, I began to wonder how I could make sense of the world ever again. We understand by identifying traits, by categorizing, by comparison. But if there are no identical things, then there is nothing by which to compare, and we can never know anything. This can be quite frustrating.
Still, one must never use frustration or the relative "hardness" of an idea as an excuse to discount it, as A pointed out earlier, our feeble attempts at comprehension have no bearing on the actual truth-value of a claim. I certainly hope that the reader also does not expect for me to "make it all better" by saying simply that this has all been a long intellectual joke. The light-hearted banter of this dialogue should not imply that this has been just silly play. This idea is real and I believe it is vitally important to understand. The point is to realize that all of the order we try to impose upon the Universe is simply that. Like any other animal, we are scared creatures who have a need to survive and have developed an instinct to try to understand the world. We must or we will die. But, we also must realize that we have merely shored up a makeshift monolith and snapped a rigid frame upon everything. The Sea of Ignorance smashes itself upon our greatest strength. We have tried to protect ourselves from the Unknown, have built a fortress to keep the savage waves out. But in the end, we have also built our own prison. What we see as real, as unshakable: society, laws, even human emotion are illusions we have crafted over millenia. They have become so ingrained and embedded as to become invisible, but they are simply things we have made. We must realize this, not to destroy them, for that it is too late, but to gain perspective on they way things truly are. The Waters are brutal and terrifying. It is likely that we will die if we set sail upon them. But we cannot let this fear hold us back. Death comes for us all, and we never know what lands may wait for us beyond the horizon...

Reviews

[W.k.kortas]

It's weighty and thoughtful, but perhaps it's too weighty; the "lively dialogue", in my view, suffers from a lack of life. It has some of the turgidity of, say, Sherwood Anderson as opposed to the lightness of touch of a Masters or a Pynchon, which makes it tend toward the ponderous as opposed to the weighty. As it stands, it's well-thought-out enough to be pretty fair, but it could be something well above the norm with a lighter, livelier touch.