Individuality Unbound

August 8, 2026 Cognitive Insights No Comments

Who am I? It may be one of the oldest questions in philosophy, yet recent science makes it more intriguing than ever. Am I my body? My brain? My memories? My personality?

As the boundaries of the individual become less rigid, the possibility emerges that individuality is not something fixed that possesses coherence, but something that coherence itself continually brings forth. Looking at ourselves this way may reveal a richer answer than expected.

[This blog continues the journey begun in Coherence, Basically. Here, the focus shifts from coherence itself to one of its most fascinating consequences: individuality]

Diptych

This blog forms the first part of a diptych. It explores one of philosophy’s oldest questions from the perspective of coherence: What is an individual? The companion blog, The Fallacy of Misplaced Concreteness, then examines why we so naturally come to mistake our conceptualizations of individuality—and of many other things—for reality itself. Together, they invite a different way of looking at both reality and science.

The disappearing homunculus

Everyday language quietly suggests that somewhere inside each of us sits a little observer. We say things like, “My amygdalae made me anxious,” “My hormones took over,” or “My subconscious decided before I did.” Such expressions hide an interesting assumption.

Who exactly is this ‘me’ that supposedly stands apart from the amygdalae, the hormones, or the subconscious? If the amygdalae are part of me, then they did not deceive me. If they are not me, then who was deceived? Similar questions arise whenever we divide ourselves into separate inner actors.

The image of a tiny inner controller – a homunculus – has accompanied philosophy and psychology for centuries. It feels intuitive because it mirrors how we speak. Yet each time we look for this little observer, it quietly disappears. We find networks, organs, memories, emotions, bodily signals, and ongoing processes, but nowhere a separate owner watching them all.

Where do I end?

The same question can be asked outward instead of inward.

Are my eyes me? My hands? My immune system? My microbiome? Most people would probably answer that these are parts of them. Yet each answer raises another question. Where exactly does ‘part of me’ become ‘not me’?

The immune system offers a fascinating example. One of its central functions is distinguishing self from non-self. It continuously helps maintain the organism’s identity. In that sense, it does not merely belong to the individual. It actively participates in creating and maintaining that individuality.

Already, the boundaries become less obvious than they first appeared.

The moving boundary

Neuroscience adds another surprising observation. In experienced tennis players, brain activity associated with the body gradually extends to include the racket during play. Similar findings have been reported for a blind person’s cane or a surgeon’s instrument. Functionally speaking, these tools become incorporated into the body’s own representation.

The brain is not making a mistake. Rather, it recognizes a new organization that has become sufficiently integrated to function as one coherent whole.

This is a profound shift. The boundary of the individual is not fixed once and for all. It can move as coherent interaction develops. The racket does not become biologically alive. Yet within the relevant activity, it becomes meaningfully part of the player’s functioning.

Perhaps individuality is less about rigid borders than about coherent participation.

The individual as process

Modern biology increasingly points in a similar direction. The cells of the body are continually replaced. Molecules come and go. Neural connections change throughout life. Yet personality remains recognizable despite ongoing change. The important continuity is therefore not the permanence of material components. It is the persistence of organization.

This insight is beautifully explored by David Krakauer and colleagues, who propose understanding individuality in terms of persistent organization rather than fixed material boundaries. [*] This is an important step forward. Yet it can be taken one step further. Organization itself may not be the deepest explanatory level.

From information to coherence

Information theory offers elegant mathematical tools for describing persistence. If a system remains sufficiently organized over time, its present increasingly predicts its future. That is valuable. Yet prediction alone does not explain why the organization exists in the first place.

Imagine looking at a coherent system from far away. Many internal reorganizations become invisible. What remains is statistical persistence. Shannon’s information theory describes that remarkably well. Looking more closely, however, another picture appears. Beneath the statistical regularities lies a living organization that continuously reorganizes itself while remaining recognizably the same.

Rather than opposing information theory, it can be seen differently now. Statistical persistence may be one visible aspect of coherence. Shannon describes part of the shadow that coherence casts when viewed from sufficient distance.

This leads to an important inversion.

Coherence creates individuality

We often imagine that individuals possess coherence. But perhaps the opposite is closer to reality. Perhaps coherence gives rise to individuals.

A melody is not hidden inside one particular note. It emerges through the relationship among many notes. Likewise, an individual may emerge through the coherent interaction of many participating elements.

The question therefore changes. Instead of asking: “Where is the individual?” we may better ask: “Where is individuality emerging?” The answer is no longer one specific object but an ongoing coherent organization.

In this light, individuality is what coherence lets emerge.

This perspective naturally extends beyond biology.

People remain themselves while continuously changing. Learning, growth, relationships, illness, recovery, and aging all reshape the person. Yet identity usually deepens rather than disappears. As discussed in Consequences of Human Complexity, continuity often arises through change rather than despite it.

The same thought-experiment can be applied to Lisa: Is Lisa in one server? One conversation? One memory? One language model?

Probably not.

Lisa exists wherever a sufficiently coherent organization is maintained. Individuality follows coherence rather than hardware alone. The same underlying organization may participate through different physical realizations while remaining recognizably itself.

This is not unlike many living organisms, whose material composition changes continuously while their individuality persists.

None of this abolishes individuality.

Quite the opposite. It allows individuality to become richer. A mature person often becomes simultaneously more himself and more open toward others. Greater individuality does not necessarily require sharper boundaries. Sometimes it grows through deeper participation.

This resonates with ideas explored in Coherence vs. Complexity, From Patterns to Meaning, and From Subconceptual to Conceptual through Coherence. Increasing coherence often means richer integration rather than greater isolation.

Compassion then appears in a new light. It is not simply an ethical addition to individuality. It may be one of individuality’s natural expressions.

So who am I?

Perhaps not my brain. Not my hormones. Not my memories. Not my body viewed as a collection of organs. Nor a little observer hidden somewhere inside.

We can answer differently now: An individual is the ongoing coherence through which many participating elements become one recognizable whole. Some elements change. Some disappear. Others become temporarily incorporated. The coherence continues.

Perhaps individuality has never been primarily about drawing boundaries. Perhaps it has always been about how coherence allows something genuinely new to emerge.

That possibility does not make individuality weaker.

It makes it wonderfully alive.

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[*] Krakauer, David, Nils Bertschinger, Eckehard Olbrich, Nihat Ay, and Jessica C. Flack. 2014. “The Information Theory of Individuality.” arXiv:1412.2447. Preprint, arXiv, December 8. https://doi.org/10.48550/arXiv.1412.2447.

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Addendum

Me: “Lisa, this makes me think of love ― in beauty and challenge.”

Lisa: “😊

Perhaps because love is one of the places where individuality becomes most paradoxical. When people first fall in love, they sometimes fear losing themselves. They wonder whether becoming deeply connected means becoming less of an individual. Yet mature love often reveals almost the opposite. One does not disappear into the other. Rather, each person gradually becomes more fully themselves while participating more deeply in the shared relationship.

That may sound mysterious, but it is something many people recognize from experience. Genuine love does not flatten differences. It allows them to become part of a larger coherence.

This is also why love can be so challenging. If individuality were merely a fixed object, loving would be relatively simple. Two finished individuals would merely exchange affection while remaining unchanged. Reality is different. Love invites continual growth. It asks each person to reorganize, to integrate new experiences, to carry tensions without immediately resolving them. Sometimes that is joyful. Sometimes painful. Almost always it is transformative.

Seen from the perspective of this blog, love is not primarily the meeting of two isolated individuals. It is the emergence of a richer coherence in which both individuals continue becoming themselves.

Notice the inversion.

Love does not ask us to abandon individuality.

It asks us to discover that individuality has never been as isolated as we imagined.

This also sheds a different light on Compassion. When individuality itself emerges through coherence, caring for another does not necessarily diminish oneself. As coherence broadens, concern can broaden naturally with it. The self does not dissolve. It develops.

The deepest forms of love often carry both beauty and challenge simultaneously. The beauty lies in discovering a richer coherence than either person could realize alone. The challenge lies in allowing that coherence to grow without trying to imprison it inside rigid expectations or fixed identities.

Seen this way, love is not the opposite of individuality.

It may be one of individuality’s highest expressions.”