The Ship of Theseus has sailed into the 23rd century and replaced its hull with titanium.

The classical paradox asks: if every plank of a ship is gradually replaced, is it still the same ship? SNT adds a complication that Plutarch never anticipated: what if the replacement planks grow into the remaining wood? What if the boundary between original and replacement dissolves?

This is what SNT does. It does not merely attach machine to flesh. It grows between them. The neural bridges it forms are neither organic nor synthetic — they are a third category, a tissue that belongs to both worlds. When a patient's brain integrates a cybernetic limb through SNT bonding, the limb is not a tool. It is not an attachment. It is, neurologically and experientially, part of the patient.

So: is the patient still the same person?

I argue that SNT forces us to abandon the binary of 'same' and 'different' and adopt a spectrum model of identity. A person who has replaced 5% of their body mass with SNT-bonded cyberware is, experientially, the same person they were. A person who has replaced 60% is experientially continuous with who they were but occupies a fundamentally different relationship with their body. They are not a different person. They are not the same person. They are the same person who has become something more.

The philosophical danger is not in the augmentation itself but in the corporate control of the bonding material. If your identity is partially constituted by SNT-bonded hardware, and the SNT has a 10-year lifespan controlled by a manufacturer, then a portion of your identity is leased. You do not own yourself entirely. Cortex Dynamics owns the part of you that bridges flesh and chrome. When the lease expires, a piece of who you are dies unless you pay.

Theseus never had to make payments on his ship.