In fiction, clones often struggle with their identities. Will they always be pale imitations of the people they are based off of? Or will they find their own purpose and deviate from the future that was predestined for them?
It’s a topic that I have thought about, because there are different kinds of situations. For example, in “Star Wars II: Attack of the Clones,” the clones in the movie are seen as expendable. Countless people die and because they are manufactured and mass-produced, we usually don’t see the clones as humans; rather they are just tools designated for fighting. However, let’s say that the you get to know these clones and find out they actually little quirks that separate them from one another. Although they are copies of each other, there are differences that makes them not identical, even when they are supposed to expendable warriors who are supposed to follow every order, regardless of what happens to themselves.
My question is: are the clones really disposable things? What if they actually want to be their separate beings of existence who want to create their lives and families? Should we really care about them, even if they were designed to die? Now, the obvious answer might seem to be “yes,” because it’s immoral. But what if they were just emotionless warriors? Should the answer be different?
This topic of identity varies quite a bit. If a person or thing wants to be like another person or thing, should that imitator be any less valued? You might say that being your own person is important and it is bad to lie to yourself, but what if the person or thing they are trying to become is good for them? What if the new version embodies solid, positive ideals, and their old versions mean nothing but misery? Should we still spite them for being phony “fakes?”
The idea of being “fake” is something that happens a lot today, not in clone terms. My take is this: you can try to improve yourself. You can become a better version of yourself, but you should NOT lie to yourself. For example, if you want to be a better basketball player, you should try to become one. Shoot around, practice, and be the best basketball player ever. However, do not attempt to “be” 7 feet tall. That’s just impractical. That’s why I’m saying don’t be another person; become a better version of yourself. Now, the problem is defining what “better” means. Let’s say that you want to fit in. Does that mean you should completely change your personality? No. But if you are originally antisocial and shy, try to be better by opening up and taking chances of getting out there. Even if you fail, at least your tried, and you have to take the chance of being embarrassed. Maybe the people you want to be with will understand.
Maybe this is shallow, trying to change yourself, but if your original position is originally horrible, what else can you do? Just be in a bad position alone and “be yourself?” That’s not good advice.
When we connect this to the idea of clones, it’s hard because it’s impossible to change what they are: clones. So, maybe they should just be the best possible clone they can be; don’t forget you are clone, and don’t try to dance around this fact and reject and pretend you’re just a normal human being. This will ultimately haunt you. But rather than just thinking you don’t have any meaning, make your existence as a clone something special, and be “yourself” as much as possible, without thinking of the original as a goal to live up to.
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