I identify with, and care about, the person I will be tomorrow because we share a large fraction of our plans and sub-plans. The same goes, though to a lesser extent, about the person I will be one month from now, and so on.
I identify with the person I used to be yesterday because we share a lot of past experiences, and these experiences are resources I (and my future selves) may use to fulfill our plans. Even if I’m now very different from the kid who read Heinlein and Hofstadter, his experiences—my past—is what I draw upon. No one else has quite the same—I would dispute the assertion that “many years from now [a future me] will resemble [me] less than some actual people living today”.
Some people do undergo large discontinuities; luck or catastrophy changes their plans to such a large extent that they have less in common with their past selves than others. Some people joke about that: “In a previous life I used to be a high powered executive, now I run a small restaurant.” (More realistically, I could say of myself that in a previous life I was a programmer, and now I organize conferences and sell my services as a consultant.)
Even if my future changes dramatically, my past will still be the same, and my past will continue to supply me with resources for bringing about futures I desire. If my desires about the future change dramatically, I still need to weave a consistent story about “myself”, in order to make effective use of those resources. The CxO’s experience is repurposed as preparation for the running of a restaurant. His expensive health club, symbol of wealth, has become excellent preparation for a job that requires robust health. (In the less dramatic example, my project management experience turns out to be applicable to conferences and consulting work.)
What makes me me is this combination of a fixed past, and plans for the future.
I identify with, and care about, the person I will be tomorrow because we share a large fraction of our plans and sub-plans. The same goes, though to a lesser extent, about the person I will be one month from now, and so on.
I identify with the person I used to be yesterday because we share a lot of past experiences, and these experiences are resources I (and my future selves) may use to fulfill our plans. Even if I’m now very different from the kid who read Heinlein and Hofstadter, his experiences—my past—is what I draw upon. No one else has quite the same—I would dispute the assertion that “many years from now [a future me] will resemble [me] less than some actual people living today”.
Some people do undergo large discontinuities; luck or catastrophy changes their plans to such a large extent that they have less in common with their past selves than others. Some people joke about that: “In a previous life I used to be a high powered executive, now I run a small restaurant.” (More realistically, I could say of myself that in a previous life I was a programmer, and now I organize conferences and sell my services as a consultant.)
Even if my future changes dramatically, my past will still be the same, and my past will continue to supply me with resources for bringing about futures I desire. If my desires about the future change dramatically, I still need to weave a consistent story about “myself”, in order to make effective use of those resources. The CxO’s experience is repurposed as preparation for the running of a restaurant. His expensive health club, symbol of wealth, has become excellent preparation for a job that requires robust health. (In the less dramatic example, my project management experience turns out to be applicable to conferences and consulting work.)
What makes me me is this combination of a fixed past, and plans for the future.