Is my (online) identity really mine?

Recently, while scrolling through the abyss of TikTok, I stumbled upon a video that genuinely made me laugh out loud–and not just in the way where you comment “lol” but actually only slightly exhale out of your nose. With that glowing endorsement, take a look!

Now that you’ve had a little treat, let’s talk about it in a slightly more thought-provoking way.

Though the interviewer in the video is deliberately being a little silly and a little goofy with her questions, I think she does raise an interesting philosophical consideration: “If I think therefore I am, what about other people?”

Another silly little Descartes joke for you. Sorry Descartes, but they practically write themselves! From "memebase.cheezburger.com"

Recently, I read Dr. Abeba Birhane’s article “Descartes was wrong: ‘a person is a person through other persons’”, which kind of asks a similar question. Birhane challenges Descartes’ famous “I think therefore I am” theory, critiquing the idea that humans are “essentially self-contained and self-sufficient” (Birhane).

Birhane draws on Ubuntu philosophy, which posits that selfhood is something we acquire over time through our relationships and experiences. She also introduces Mikhail Bakhtin’s theory that our ability to develop a self-image is dependent on dialogue. Birhane says that our identities are defined somewhere in between ourselves and the world we interact with. She cites a Zulu phrase that sums up her point pretty well: A person is a person through other persons.

Reading this reminded me of a TikTok trend going around a while ago where users characterized themselves as “a mosaic of everyone [they’ve] ever met.” Their videos explain how the people they’ve met have impacted their interests, habits, and opinions.

It seems pretty clear that many people think of their identity in the way Birhane does: fluctuating and continually changed by the people that enter their lives.

But what about the online self? Is it something self-contained, or is it a mosaic?

Take my Twitter profile, for example. I have my own username, bio, profile pic, and tweets, which makes it seem like there’s an online identity that’s purely mine.

But my page is also made up of content from others that I’ve liked, retweeted, or quote-tweeted. Even the content I produce myself isn’t totally self-contained. My online self on my Twitter account that has 5 followers is different from my online self on an Instagram account with a larger following, which is different from my online self on my school discussion forums.

It’s not that any of those online versions of me are more me than the others. It’s just that my online identity is constantly shaped and reshaped by my audience and surroundings. So, I guess what I’m getting at is that the online self is just as much of a person through other persons as the IRL self.

A cool sculpture I stumbled upon that represents the idea of a self composed of a bunch of parts from different places pretty well! Image from "mosaicartsource.wordpress.com."

In a past post, I’ve talked about how on modern social media, it’s easier than ever to connect with a wide variety of people you might not be able to interact with in person. When we think of our identities as being fundamentally shaped by interaction, this function of social media seems more important than ever.

Online, it’s possible to connect with people who have a wide range of life experiences, opinions, and perspectives to share, which means our identities can develop in so many exciting ways. So while it may feel odd at first to accept that our digital selves aren't completely separate individuals, it honestly seems like something we should celebrate.

I also kind of wonder if our online and IRL selves develop in conjunction with each other, in addition to other people and other profiles. When I encounter new ideas online, how is my in-person self changed, and vice versa?

Whatever the connection there may be, it seems that the lines between the self and the other – and the self and the digital self – are much blurrier than we might have previously considered them to be.