I didn’t start with the question, Who am I? Mainly because it looked unanswerable. The science is scary: We’re almost certainly not who we think we are. At best, the self is a useful construct, at worst it’s a psychotic delusion; either way, it’s a fiction, because it’s based largely on memory, which is hugely unreliable and prey to the ebb of various forces, like time and health, to name just two.
