There is a curious paradox, called ‘The Ship of Theseus’, that is frequently presented in introductory philosophy courses at universities. The ancient Greek historian, Plutarch, recounted how the Athenians repaired and kept the ship belonging to Theseus, the founder-king of Athens, as a memorial to him for centuries after his death.
The Athenians would, as needed, take each dilapidated plank of wood off of the ship, replacing it with a newer, seaworthy plank. Over time, so much repair work had been done on the ship that it was suspected that very little, if any, of the original wood from the ship remained. As the story goes, the ancient philosophers used to argue at length over whether the repaired ship was still in fact Theseus’ ship, since it contained very few, if any, of its original parts. Some argued that the repaired ship was a new ship that was very different in kind from the original, despite its identical appearance, while others argued that the ship’s identity had remained constant throughout time, still being Theseus’ original ship, despite the numerous repairs.
To this argument it is often added: What if the Athenians had been saving all of the planks they took off of the ship and used all of these original planks to construct another ship, would this ship be Theseus’ ship, or would the other repaired ship be Theseus’ ship?
Proposing a solution to the paradox of The Ship of Theseus is best saved for the philosophers but, nevertheless, its application to the automobile world is rather interesting. Imagine the following scenario. The current record for an automobile at auction is held by a 1957 Ferrari Testa Rossa (one of my favorite classics), at $12.15 million. This Ferrari was in pristine condition, having underwent an expensive, meticulous restoration. Now, imagine that another one of the twenty-two Ferrari 250 Testa Rossas made in 1957-58, is found in an old barn in, say, the Midwestern United States. It is a true example of a legendary “Barn Car,” a classic remaining in its original condition, free of any restoration, covered in dust and cobwebs from years of immobility.
We place a great deal of value in restored automobiles. Restorations range from simple jobs—maybe just a careful re-paint—to extensive projects involving removing and replacing each and every bolt, a so-called “bolts-off” restoration. Nevertheless, the goal is to restore the automobile as closely as possible to its original condition when it left the factory floor. Nevertheless, a true Barn Car is a near-priceless find, despite its dilapidated condition. Barn cars are valued for their original, unmolested condition, making them perfect candidates for restoration.
So, looking at it from an automobile enthusiast’s perspective, not a philosopher’s, which of the two ’57 250 TR is the more “real” ’57 250 TR? The restoration has returned the car to its original condition when it was new. Everything on the car, from its paint scheme, to its engine components, is as it was when new. As with any excellent restoration, if placed in 1957, the restoration would fit perfectly. Surely the individual that paid such a princely sum for the restored ’57 did not get a very pricey new car, but a true classic, right?
The other ’57, the Barn Car, however, is truly original. None of its parts have been replaced, nothing changed from its original condition, apart from the wear and tear common to a car that has not moved for decades. Despite the dust and cobwebs it has acquired from decades of immobility, an automobile enthusiast would call this “beautiful” just as readily as he or she would the restored ’57 250 TR sitting on the auction block. While it is difficult to say which of the two would fetch more on the market, it is sufficient to say that both are worth more than most of us can imagine.
It has always fascinated me how automobile enthusiasts balance aesthetics and functionality. The Barn Car, to be sure, will not start, but its original, untouched condition is both rare and beautiful, a relic of automobile history, unchanged and preserved for decades. Much like the imagined ship composed of all the original planks taken off as the Athenians conducted repairs, it is beautiful in its originality, but functionally useless. The restored ’57, of course, has a running engine and will drive like it did in 1957. While it, too, is a beautiful sight, knowing that an untouched Barn Car example of the very same car exists might make us wonder if this restored car, which is aimed aesthetically at imitating the originality of the Bar Car, is more beautiful.
Considering this balancing of aesthetics and functionality, I am unsure of which ’57 is more the “real” ’57 250 TR. It seems—for its automobile application, not in the original Ship of Theseus paradox—to come down to which one you are willing to assign more weight, aesthetics or functionality. Which do you choose?
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