I answered yes to your hypothetical, but I am not currently signed up for cryonics and have no short- or medium-term plans to do so.
My reasons for the difference:
In your hypothetical, I’ve received a divine revelation that there’s no afterlife, and that reincarnation would be successful. In real life, I have a low estimate of the likelihood of cryonics leading to a successful revival and a low-but-nonzero estimate of the likelihood of an afterlife.
In your hypothetical, there’s no advance cost for the reincarnation option. For cryonics, the advance cost is substantial. My demand curve for life span is downward-sloping with respect to cost.
In your hypothetical, I’m on my deathbed. In real life, I’m 99.86% confident of living at least one more year and 50% confident of living at least another 50 years (based on Social Security life expectancy tables), before adjusting for my current health status and family history of longevity (both of which incline my life expectancy upwards relative to the tables), and before adjusting for expected technological improvements. This affects my decision concerning cryonics in two respects:
a. Hyperbolic discounting.
b. Declining marginal utility of lifespan.
c. A substantial (in my estimation) chance that even without cryonics I’ll live long enough to benefit from the discovery of medical improvements that will make me immortal barring accidents, substantially reducing the expected benefit from cryonics.
In your hypothetical, I’m presented with a choice and it’s an equal effort to pick either one. To sign up for cryonics, I’d need to overcome substantial mental activation costs to research options and sign up for a plan. My instinct is to procrastinate.
Of course, none of this invalidates your hypothetical as a test of the hypothesis that people don’t sign up for cryonics because they don’t actually want to live longer.
I answered yes to your hypothetical, but I am not currently signed up for cryonics and have no short- or medium-term plans to do so.
My reasons for the difference:
In your hypothetical, I’ve received a divine revelation that there’s no afterlife, and that reincarnation would be successful. In real life, I have a low estimate of the likelihood of cryonics leading to a successful revival and a low-but-nonzero estimate of the likelihood of an afterlife.
In your hypothetical, there’s no advance cost for the reincarnation option. For cryonics, the advance cost is substantial. My demand curve for life span is downward-sloping with respect to cost.
In your hypothetical, I’m on my deathbed. In real life, I’m 99.86% confident of living at least one more year and 50% confident of living at least another 50 years (based on Social Security life expectancy tables), before adjusting for my current health status and family history of longevity (both of which incline my life expectancy upwards relative to the tables), and before adjusting for expected technological improvements. This affects my decision concerning cryonics in two respects: a. Hyperbolic discounting. b. Declining marginal utility of lifespan. c. A substantial (in my estimation) chance that even without cryonics I’ll live long enough to benefit from the discovery of medical improvements that will make me immortal barring accidents, substantially reducing the expected benefit from cryonics.
In your hypothetical, I’m presented with a choice and it’s an equal effort to pick either one. To sign up for cryonics, I’d need to overcome substantial mental activation costs to research options and sign up for a plan. My instinct is to procrastinate.
Of course, none of this invalidates your hypothetical as a test of the hypothesis that people don’t sign up for cryonics because they don’t actually want to live longer.