One immediate reservation about wanting someone elseâs experience is that my desire to be someone else (i.e., have his experience) is grounded in values and desires that I have, and so I have to be me in order to want to be him. However, itâs not clear that that presents any real hurdle to such a desire. I could say that it is precisely by my own lights that the experience of being them would be better, and that there would be at least enough overlap with them that they are instantiating my values and desires but have a better experience than I do. So I can still prefer to be them.
I think that, on reflection, most of us would not want to trade with another person, no matter how successful or enticing their lives seem â or even are in reality. To see why, though, weâll need to switch our angle of vision. We will have to look at our own experiences rather than at theirs, or perhaps look at our experiences first. What would I be willing to give up to be another? My relationships with everyone â children, spouse, friends â and my whole history. I wouldnât have undergone it. My loss would be that of the whole of my own experience.
We live in world in which the lives of those with more wealth or fame or recognition or influence or beauty are constantly placed before us as though they were something to aspire to. And, of course, there is nothing wrong with aspiration in itself. But to the extent these lives are presented to us as something to be hankered after, as lives we would certainly want if only we could have them, we are presented with an image that asks us to forget what is important to us. In an age of acquisitiveness, and one moreover in which the normative constraints on acquisitiveness have largely fallen away, it is comforting â and perhaps even imperative â to recognize that of all the personal histories that we might choose from, it is our own that would be our likely choice.