After slaying the Minotaur, a triumphant Theseus sailed back to Athens. To preserve the ship used by the legendary Greek king, Athenians removed its planks as they aged, “putting in new and stronger timber in their place,” writes Plutarch. The paradox—at least as philosophers mull it—is this: At what point does the ship become an entirely new object? If all the parts of Theseus’s ship are replaced, is it still the same vessel?
The Walrus has also undergone a process over the past two decades in which our parts have been incrementally switched out. Funding has changed; the office has relocated; the magazine has been redesigned several times, with new sections launched, old ones retired; we expanded online; we now manage fellowships, produce podcasts, run events; our roster of writers has been renewed; and, of course, our masthead has turned over. In January, we said goodbye to Editor-in-Chief Jessica Johnson, who left after six years with the organization. Hardly a single plank of the original ship is left. But here we are.
