MAR. - Vol. 2, No. 3

Alzheimer’s is often associated with loss. The neurodengeneration that takes place is beyond mere memory loss, as names, stories, and individuality are lost; the disease is beyond explanations of sole science. Rarely is this loss viewed from a philosophical perspective, compelling us to wonder: what exactly is being lost? And just as importantly, what might still remain? While science and medical research continue to advnace treatments and an eventual cure to Alzheimer’s, we offer a philosophical lense which may help reconcile the incredibly difficult reality to grasp of watching someone decline with Alzheimer’s. 

Philosopher, Hannah Ginsborg, challenges the notion that concepts are merely stored knowledge we retrieve from memory. Instead, she suggests that concepts are tied to our ability to make sense of the world—to recognize, respond, and interact meaningfully, even without specific or accurate recall (Ginsborg, “Conceptualism,” 2018). This perspective becomes especially powerful in the context of dementia.

In Alzheimer’s, semantic memory, such as the ability to recall facts, names, and categories, often deteriorates quickly. Patients might have difficulty with word-finding (anomia) or lose the ability to neatly categorize objects, as before. From the outside, this can easily look like a loss of understanding itself. But Ginsborg’s framework opens another possibility: what if the capacity for meaning isn’t entirely dependent on memory?

Moments of recognition, familiarity, and emotional connection often persist even as memory declines. Someone may not remember a name, but still offer a hug. They may not articulate what something is, but still interact with it properly. Instances like these demonstrate conceptual engagement, which Ginsborg labels as a kind of primitive normativity (or a basic sense of “this is how things are”), which can remain intact even when explicit knowledge fades.

This viewpoint challenges a common philosophical assumption that memory is the complete foundation of personal identity. If memory fragments, is the person still “there”? Alzheimer’s complicates this account. While certain forms of memory decline, others like emotional memory, habits, and embodied ways of being, can remain strikingly resilient. Personality traits and patterns of care often persist below the surface, even if they are harder to recognize through language.

For many, this is not simply a philosophical question, but a profoundly personal one. Watching someone you love lose memory can feel like losing them entirely. But over time, some begin to notice that connection doesn’t disappear absolutely, but rather, it transforms. Thus, the shared moments of presence, touch, and emotion still carry sincere meaning, even without the shared memories to anchor them.

Philosophy, nor does this perspective, are able to erase the pain of Alzheimer’s, but it can shift how we grasp it. Instead of seeing dementia as a complete erasure erasure of the self, we might see it as a sort of reconfiguration, that reveals how much of who we are goes beyond what we can remember. In that way, Alzheimer’s offers a difficult but important insight: memory is not the only way we know, connect, care, or love, and meaning may still endure evne if memories fade.