Canadian novelist
Dennis Taylor, writing as Dennis E. Taylor, is a Canadian novelist and former computer programmer known for his largescale hard science fiction stories exploring the interaction between artificial intelligence and the human condition.
From: Wikipedia (CC BY-SA 4.0)
I had three issues that bothered me. Was I conscious? Could I actually consider myself to be alive? And was I still Bob? Philosophers had been going on and on about this type of thing for centuries, but now, for me, it was personal. A human, regardless of their opinion on the subject, could depend on being a human. The minister’s offhand reference to me as ‘it’ and ‘replicant’ had stung at a level I was just now starting to appreciate.
Sleepy took a sip of his drink before responding. “Sounds like a plan. Although I don’t like the implications. If I get taken down, the Bob that gets restored won’t really be me.” “What, you’re positing a soul, now? For us?” Surly, I mean Hungry, rolled his eyes. “Every time the crew of Star Trek transported, they faced the same philosophical question.
"We'd gotten onto the concept or morality and Frida had just asked Theresa how she could have any sense of morality without a deity to define what was or was not moral.
[...]
"What deities give you aren't rules of morality," Theresa responded. "They are just rules. Do this and you will be rewarded. Do that and you will be punished. That's how we teach our pets not to relieve themselves in the house. One would hope that true morality involved more than learning not to poop on the rug by being rapped on the nose!"
[...]
"In fact", Theresa continued, "I believe that it is only possible to acquire true morality without input from a deity. It is only when you do something because you believe it is the right thing to do, instead of because of any moral desserts, that you are acting morally. Likewise, it is only when you refuse to do something because of the golden rule, rather than because of a threat of punishment, that you are behaving in a moral manner.
Thank God for family. And thank God for a couple thousand miles of distance. When everyone was home at the same time, I could generally take it for about half an hour before I retreated into the basement. Usually, Dad followed about ten minutes later. There’d be the mutual eye-rolling, and we’d settle down without a word, to read or watch TV. My father and I were both loners by disposition. We could sit in the same room for hours, not say five words to each other, and both be completely comfortable. It drove my mother crazy.