Published	In:	Oxford	Studies	in	Normative	Ethics	Volume	9.	Edited	by	Mark	Timmons,	Oxford University	Press	(2019). 1 Well-Being,	the	Self,	and	Radical	Change Jennifer	Hawkins It is a well-known fact that people change over time. Sometimes the change is gradual. Sometimes it is swift. And some changes are deeper than others, in the sense	that	they	alter	more	significant	features	of	the	person.	In	this	essay	I	explore cases	of	"radical	change."	I	define	radical	change	as	change	where	either	(1)	several of a person's core values change, or (2) some deeper feature of her psychology changes	(which	will	typically	also	result	in	value	changes).	An	example	of	a	deeper psychological	change	might	be	a	change	in	personality-e.g.	a	change	in	one	of	the big	five	personality	traits	discussed	by	psychologists.	Or	it	might	be	some	other	even deeper	feature	of	the	individual	that	changes.	As	should	be	clear,	radical	change	as	I define	it,	is	a	degree	concept.	Within	the	category	of	radical	change	there	are	more or	less	radical	changes. I	take	it	that	most	really	radical	change	is	bad	for	the	person	who	undergoes it. Consider Phineas Gage, the nineteenth century railroad worker.1	An explosion sent a tamping iron right through Gage's skull, yet miraculously he survived. However, he was dramatically changed. His fundamental personality traits were altered	forever	by	the	alterations	to	his	brain,	and	his	life	went	poorly	from	then	on as a result. But there are also clearly cases in which radical change can be prudentially good. So	what interests	me is the	question:	What explains	why some radical	changes	are	prudentially	good	and	others	prudentially	bad?2	It	is	important to emphasize that I am discussing prudential change, the kind of change that 1	The story of Phineas Gage is related in the first chapter of Antonio	R. Damasio,	Descartes'	Error: Emotion,	Reason	and the	Human	Brain. (New	York:	Harper Collins Publishers, 1994).	My comment simply	relies	on	the	reader's	probable	familiarity	with	Damasio's	way	of	telling	the	story,	which	has been	influential.	However,	I	thank	an	anonymous	reviewer	for	drawing	my	attention	to	the	fact	that the	details	of	the	extent	to	which	Gage	changed	remain	disputed.	See	e.g.	Griggs,	R.	(2015),	"Coverage of the Phineas Gage Story in Introductory Psychology Textbooks: Was Gage No Longer Gage?" Teaching	of	Psychology,	42	(3),	195-202. 2	This	is	a	metaphysical	question,	not	to	be	confused	with	the	epistemic	question	of	how	we	can	come to	know	which	changes	are	good	and	which	bad. Published	In:	Oxford	Studies	in	Normative	Ethics	Volume	9.	Edited	by	Mark	Timmons,	Oxford University	Press	(2019). 2 improves	(or	lowers)	the	welfare	of	the	individual	who	changes.	I	set	aside	for	now admittedly	complicated	questions	about	radical	change	and	morality.3 One	might	suppose	there	is	little	point	to	my	question	because	we	so	seldom have	control	over	radical	change.	Certainly	Gage	could	neither	anticipate	nor	control what happened to him.	However, some types of radical change do fall	within our control,	and	in	the	future,	with	the	development	of	new	technologies,	more	forms	of radical	change	may	become	possible.	Even	now,	it is	often	true	of	us	that	we	could change	ourselves	in	particular	ways	if	we	chose	to.	But	while	many	of	us	engage	in smaller scale projects of self-change, few of us seek to radically change ourselves because it rarely occurs to us that a radical change	would be best.	However, that may	simply	be	an	unfortunate	feature	of	our	limited	personal	perspectives. My own thinking about such questions has been deeply influenced by a particular picture of prudential facts I find attractive. I shall call this view the "future-based	reasons	view"	or	FBR.	This	is	a	very	general	metaphysical	view	about what	makes	it	the	case	that	such	and	such	would	be	a	good	choice	(prudentially)	for someone.	It	has	two	components.	First,	whether	a	choice	is	prudentially	good	for	an individual	depends	on the	good (or	bad) things that	various	possible futures	hold for	that	individual.	If	choosing	x	now	will	lead	to	the	greatest	net	future	welfare	for me, then I have the strongest prudential reason now to choose x. Second, these normative	facts	about	future	welfare	are	not	in	any	way	dependent	on	the	subject's attitudes	or	desires	either	in	the	present	or	the	past.	What	makes	it	the	case	that	x	is good	for	A	in	the	future	is	not	the	fact	that	A	now	desires	x,	nor	the	fact	that	in	the past	A	desired	x	for	her	future	self.	Nor	is it	the	fact	that	a	fully informed	A	would desire it for her lesser informed self. Instead,	what determines facts about future good	are	either	facts	about	A	as	she	is	in	the	future	or	facts	about	the	world	A	will inhabit	at	that	time,	or	most	plausibly,	the	interaction	between	both.	In	other	words, 3	It is, of course, possible that a person	might change in	ways that	make her	more or less	moral. Moreover, a	morally good change	might	not be	prudentially good, and a	prudentially good change might	not	be	morally	good.	But	the	question	of	how	to	resolve	conflict	between	prudential	reasons and	moral	reasons	is	a	huge	topic	far	beyond	the	scope	of	this	paper.	When	I	say	a	person	has	most prudential	reason	to	do	x,	I	leave	it	open	whether	she	has	most	reason	to	do	x	all-things-considered. Published	In:	Oxford	Studies	in	Normative	Ethics	Volume	9.	Edited	by	Mark	Timmons,	Oxford University	Press	(2019). 3 the full explanation	of	what	makes something good for a	person	at a certain time depends	on	facts	about	the	person	and	the	world	at	that	time. To	be	clear,	what I am	calling the	FBR	view is	not	a theory	of	welfare,	but rather a framework upon	which one	might build a theory. Various contemporary approaches to welfare are compatible with it. Both hedonism and objective list theories are. But then so	would be any subjective theory that focused on current appreciation	of	things	(as	opposed	to	the	prospective	pro-attitudes	desire	theories typically	stress).	But	not	all	theories	are	compatible.	As	should	be	obvious,	the	view	I am describing rules out desire-satisfaction theories of welfare including the informed	desire	versions.4	It	also	rules	out	the	idea,	accepted	by	many	theorists,	that part	of	the	welfare	value	of	a	life	is	determined	by	the	overall	shape	of	that	life.5	It	is beyond the scope of this essay to defend these exclusions at any length, but the framework I favor is compatible	with	a	variety	of	otherwise	diverse theories	such that	what	I	have	to	say	should	be	of	interest	to	many	theorists	of	welfare. FBR	has	the	virtue	that	it	easily	accommodates	cases	of	good	radical	change. On	this	account,	a	radical	change	represents	the	best	choice	(and	a	subject	has	most reason	to	undergo	it)	if	it	leads	to	the	possible	future	with	the	greatest	net	welfare value.	But	by	itself,	without	qualification,	FBR	also	appears	to	have	the	problem	that it allows too	many cases of radical change to count as good.	Thus it seems that a 4	Many theorists have defended some version of desire-satisfactionism, but the most popular versions	among	philosophers	have	been informed	desire theories.	One	of the	most	developed	such views	is	that	of	Peter	Railton.	See	Railton,	"Facts	and	Values,"	Philosophical	Topics,	14:	(1986):	5-31; and	Railton,	"Moral	Realism,"	The	Philosophical	Review,	95:	2:	(1986): It	is	beyond	the	scope	of	this essay to explain my exclusion of desire theories, but I have explained my opposition to them elsewhere. See Hawkins, "Well-Being, Time and Dementia," Ethics, 124: (2014): 507-542; and Hawkins, "Internalism and Prudential Value," Oxford Studies in Metaethics, vol. 14, forthcoming 2019). For good general overviews of the desire satisfaction approach, see Sumner (1996); Ben Bradley, Well-Being, (Malden, Ma: Polity, 2015); Guy Fletcher, The Philosophy of Well-Being: An Introduction,	(New	York:	Routledge,	2016). 5	Certain	theorists	reject	additive	views	(or	as	some	say	"intra-life	aggregation")	because	they	take seriously	the	idea	that	the	shape	of	a	life	matters	prudentially	and	assume	the	two	claims	are incompatible.	See	e.g.	Michael	Slote,	"Goods	and	Lives,"	in	Goods	and	Virtues,	9-37.	(Oxford:	Oxford University	Press,	1984),	9-37;	David	Velleman,	"Well-Being	and	Time,"	Pacific	Philosophical	Quarterly, 72:	(1991):	48-77;	Joshua	Glasgow,	"The	Shape	of	a	Life	and	the	Value	of	Loss	and	Gain,"	Philosophical Studies,	162:	(2013):	665-682.	Dale	Dorsey,	"The	Significance	of	a	Life's	Shape,"	Ethics	125:	(2015): 303-330,	has	shown	that,	depending	on	why	you	think	shape	matters,	taking	shape	seriously	may	be compatible	with	aggregation.	Still	it	is	clear	that	my	approach	is	incompatible	with	common	ways	of understanding	the	shape	of	a	life	thesis. Published	In:	Oxford	Studies	in	Normative	Ethics	Volume	9.	Edited	by	Mark	Timmons,	Oxford University	Press	(2019). 4 defender of any version of FBR will need to seriously consider questions about radical change and	what explains the difference between the good cases and the bad. My	overall	aims	are	really	quite	modest.	My first is simply to	articulate the issues	vividly,	and	thereby	enable	philosophers	to	feel	the	force	of	a	certain	kind	of problem that, as I see it, has all too often been overlooked. Second, I hope to convince philosophers that some of what seem like the more obvious ways to resolve	the	problem-attempts	that	invoke	one	or	another	notion	of	identity-fail. No	doubt	many,	once	convinced	that	the	simple	solutions	are	flawed,	will	think	that the	obvious	next	move	is	to	adopt	a	more	sophisticated	and	nuanced	version	of	the same	general	strategy.	Yet I	hope to	make it	clear that	any	such	move	must try to answer	a	deeper,	as	yet	unanswered	question,	about the	relationship	between the self	and	welfare. §1.0 Good	Radical	Change I	begin	by	presenting	a	case	where	it	seems	intuitively	plausible	that	radical change	would	be	prudentially	good. Consider Sharon. Sharon is a creative, artistically talented painter. Unfortunately,	however,	she is	also	predisposed	to	unipolar	depression.	Beginning in young adulthood she experiences recurrent episodes of	what psychiatrists call "major depression."	When she is depressed she can't do her artwork, or	much of anything	else.	But	when	she	emerges from	a	depression	she	can	return to	her	art. Importantly,	the	depressive	episodes	take	a	toll	not	only	on	her	creative	work,	but also	on	her	personal	relationships. Significantly,	Sharon	has	a	certain image	of	herself to	which,	over time,	she has become deeply attached. It is the description under which she now values herself.	She	values	art,	of	course.	But	she	also	values	being	an	artistic	person,	which she	equates	not	simply	with	painting	but	with	a	certain	lifestyle	and	with	a	certain degree	of	social	nonconformity. In	the	past,	when	struggling	with	her	depressions, she has often comforted herself with the thought that, at least in certain people, Published	In:	Oxford	Studies	in	Normative	Ethics	Volume	9.	Edited	by	Mark	Timmons,	Oxford University	Press	(2019). 5 artistic	creativity	and	depressive	mental	illness	appear	to	be	somehow	linked.6 As	a result	she	has	brought	herself	to	a	point	where	she	thinks	of	her	depression	as	the price	she	pays	for	artistic	creativity.	Not	only	is	she	resigned	to	her	illness,	but	she has	even	become	somewhat	proud	of it	because it seems	(to	her)	a	mark	of	other qualities she values. When Sharon contemplates the lives of various people she knows, she judges their lives to be (in contrast with hers) lacking in depth and meaning. Now let us suppose a medication exists that could really help Sharon by putting	a	halt	to	the	extreme	emotional	cycles	she	currently	experiences.	However, Sharon	is	skeptical	about	trying	it.	As	we	have	seen,	she	has	already	formed	a	selfnarrative	in	which	depression	is	partly	explained	as	a	special	sign	of	giftedness.	And because of this she is now reluctant to give it up. She is also afraid that the medication might change her in ways that she can't anticipate, but which she is pretty	sure	she	(as	she	is	now)	wouldn't	like.	She	is	both	worried	that	it	will	make her	"shallow"	as	opposed	to	"deep"	and	more	concretely,	that	it	may	interfere	with her	artistic	development.	She	fears	she	won't	be	creative	in	the	same	way	or	to	the same	extent	if	she	takes	medication. These are Sharon's fears. Now let's assume they are well-founded. Let's assume	that	if	Sharon	doesn't	take	the	medication	she	will	continue	to	suffer	major depressions and this will continue to limit her creative work. It will continue to make	her	life	difficult	in	a	variety	of	ways,	and	it	will	rule	out	certain	kinds	of	longterm	meaningful	relationships.	If	she	does	take	the	medication,	however,	it	will	have a	variety	of	effects	on	her.	On	the	one	hand, it	will lift the	depressions	completely. However, it will simultaneously alter her personality in subtle ways, and this, in turn, will lead to her abandoning her current work. Though she will always appreciate art, for a variety of reasons, the person she would become with 6	It is	well	established	that	poets, fiction	writers,	visual	artists	and	musicians	are	much	more likely than	ordinary	people to	suffer from	either	manic-depressive illness (bi-polar	disorder)	or	unipolar depression.	For	example,	one	study	found	rates	of	depression	8	to	10	times	higher	among	artists	and writers than in the rest of the population. See Kay Redfield Jamison, Jamison, Touched	with Fire: Manic-Depressive Illness and the Artistic Temperament, (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1996). The exact nature of the association, however, is not understood and remains a topic of dispute and continuing	inquiry. Published	In:	Oxford	Studies	in	Normative	Ethics	Volume	9.	Edited	by	Mark	Timmons,	Oxford University	Press	(2019). 6 medication would not pursue an artistic career. However, she would find other projects	that	would	be	just	as	fulfilling	for	the	person	she	would	then	be	as	artistic pursuits currently are for the	person she is	now.	Moreover, once she is	no longer living the chaotic life of depressive ups and downs, she	will be able to form and maintain	loving	relationships	and	accomplish	more	in	her	new	line	of	work	than	she would	accomplish	in	the	old. I take no stand for the	moment on	whether the goods of her new life are intrinsic or instrumental. Hedonists are free to see them as instrumental, and to think	the	medicated	life	will	have	more	overall	pleasure	or	happiness.	And	objective list theorists are free to imagine that her life with medication will contain more objective	goods.	And	so	on	for	other	types	of	theorists.	I	will	stipulate	only	one	thing, which	is	that	Sharon	will	appreciate	the	life	she	thereby	gains	if	she	takes	the	meds. She	will	not	in	retrospect	view	the	change	as	a	mistake,	but	instead	as	an	excellent choice. The change is radical in	my	defined sense. It	will alter	many	of	her values, and	will	do	so	in	part	by	altering	certain	aspects	of	her	personality	(this	is	why	she will no longer pursue an artistic career). Even though she herself has no current desire	to	change,	and	would	not	now	view	the	possible	life	with	medication	as	in	any sense	good	for	her, it is	plausible	that it	would	be	good for	Sharon to	undergo	this change. I	suspect	most	readers	will	agree	with	me. If that is	so, then	they	will	also agree	that	at	least	some	cases	of	radial	change	are	prudentially	good	and	we	should want	a	theory	of	welfare	that	can	accommodate	that. §2.0 Good	Radical	Changes	&	Future	Based	Reasons The future-based reasons view is able to handle certain cases of radical change	quite	well.	But	only	certain	cases.	To	understand	why	this	is	so,	it	is	helpful to	have	a	more	developed	understanding	of	the	view. The	FBR	view	is	first	and	foremost	a	way	of	thinking	about	the	relationship between	good	prudential	choice	and	prudential	value	itself.	In	ordinary	life	when	we try	to	make	a	self-interested	decision	(or	try	to	see	what	would	be	the	best	decision Published	In:	Oxford	Studies	in	Normative	Ethics	Volume	9.	Edited	by	Mark	Timmons,	Oxford University	Press	(2019). 7 for someone else), we take it that there are various things that could be done. Associated	with	the	different	things	that	could	be	done	are	different	outcomes	that might follow. And these outcomes could lead to others and so on and so forth. Indeed,	summarizing	this	familiar	way	of	thinking,	we	can	say	that	associated	with each practical choice a person	makes there are various possible futures, possible ways	that	the	life	she	has	been	living	up	until	then	might	continue.	The	FBR	assumes that	these	possible futures	have	a	certain	welfare	value	for	the	subject in	virtue	of the	various	good	and	bad	things	those	futures	contain	for	her.	What	that	value	is	will depend, of course, on one's preferred account of prudential value and how	much value	various	things	are	thought	to	have. A	hedonist,	for	example,	will	want	to	know	of	each	possible	future	how	much happiness it contains, on the one hand, and how much suffering, pain, or unhappiness	it	contains	on	the	other.	The	overall	net	value	(negative	or	positive)	of that	possible	future	will	depend	on	whether	there	is	more	happiness	than	suffering or vice versa.	Alternatively, an	objective list theorist	would	want to know	of each possible future	what	kind	of	objective	goods	(friendship,	achievement,	knowledge, etc.)	that	life	contains	as	well	as	what	kinds	of	objective	bads.	No	matter	the	theory of	prudential	value,	each	possible life	continuation	will	have	a	positive	or	negative net value depending on whether the positives (as construed by that theory) outweigh	the	negatives	(as	construed	by	that	theory),	or	vice	versa. One implication of this approach is that possible futures can, at least in principle, be ranked from best to worst. The FBR thesis assumes, as do many philosophers, that practical reasons-in this case prudential practical reasons- stem	from	facts	about	prudential	value.	For	any	two	possible	futures,	x	and	y	of	an agent	A,	if	x	has	greater	net	welfare	for	A	than	y,	then	A	has	more	reason	to	choose	x. But A has most reason, i.e. the strongest prudential reason, to choose the best possible	future	or	the	highest	ranked	one,	whichever	one	that	is. Of	course,	this	is	a	theory	of	what	reasons	we	have,	and	not	a	theory	of	what reasons	we	can	easily	know	about	or	perceive.	It	may	be	that	we	often	simply	don't know	about	certain	options,	or	don't think	of them,	and	so fail to identify the	best ones.	That	is	an	epistemic	problem,	and	a	serious	one.	But	then	it	seems	right	to	me Published	In:	Oxford	Studies	in	Normative	Ethics	Volume	9.	Edited	by	Mark	Timmons,	Oxford University	Press	(2019). 8 that	it	should	turn	out	to	be	extremely	difficult-perhaps	even	impossible-to	know what the best path through life is. We do reasonably well when we are able to recognize the more obvious paths forward, assess their relative strengths and choose	one	of	the	better	ones.	Finally,	it	is	because	of	these	epistemic	barriers	that normative	reasons	and	motivating	reasons	so	frequently	come	apart. It is important to see that not all good choices lead to what we would ordinarily	call	good	outcomes.	One	kind	of	case	where	this	is	so	involves	bad	lives. Sadly, some lives are so filled	with suffering	or	other	negatives that the	negatives outweigh	any	positives	the	life	might	contain.	I	shall	refer	to	all	such	lives	where	net value	is	negative	as	bad	simpliciter.	But	of	course,	even	within	the	category	of	lives that	are	bad	simpliciter, there	can lives that	are	better	or	worse than	one	another. Now	suppose	someone	faces	a	grim	choice	between	two	lives	each	of	which	is	bad simpliciter	in	virtue	of	containing	great	suffering.	Still,	one	life	has	less	suffering	than the	other. If these	are	the	only	options,	then	it	still	makes	sense	to	choose	the	less bad life,	even	though	the life	chosen	would	not	count	as	good	as	people	ordinarily think	of	"good.".	This	is	a	case	where	the	best	choice	does	not	lead	to	a	good	life. This idea	that	there is	a	point	at	which	the	negatives	begin	to	outweigh	the positives	(however	construed)	suggests	for	many	a	way	to	draw	a	line	between	a	life worth	living	(or	a	continuation	that	is	worth	living)	and	one	that	is	not.	And	some	go further	and	suggest	that	when	the	only	options	available	are	lives	not	worth	living, then	death is preferable.	Of course death is not a "possible future" but rather the absence	of	a	future.	Still,	it	is	fairly	easy	to	adjust	the	comparison	of	futures	to	make it	a	comparison	of	lives	that	are	the	same	up	to	a	certain	point.	If	a	life	that	ends	at that	point is	better	than	any	of	the	possible lives	where it	continues, then	the	FBR can	allow	that	in	such	a	case	death	would	be	better	for	the	individual	in	question.7 However, even when death is the better option, it is not always a real, practical 7	This	is	just	the	familiar	thesis	(known	as	the	deprivation	view)	that	death	is	a	comparative	harm and	that	the	proper	unit	of	comparison	is	whole	lives.	For	detailed	introduction	to	such	views	and their	problems	see	Steven	Luper	"Death",	The	Stanford	Encyclopedia	of	Philosophy	(Summer	2016 Edition),	Edward	N.	Zalta	(ed.),	URL	= <https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/sum2016/entries/death/>. Published	In:	Oxford	Studies	in	Normative	Ethics	Volume	9.	Edited	by	Mark	Timmons,	Oxford University	Press	(2019). 9 option,	in	which	case	it	still	makes	sense,	insofar	as	there	are	choices,	to	choose	the future	that	is	least	bad. Let	us	now	consider	what the	FBR	says	about	radical	change.	As	we	saw	at the	outset,	some	radical	changes	are	not	chosen,	but	simply	happen	to	us.	But	when choice is involved and	we can either change radically or not, then the important question	will	be	about	the	overall	welfare	value	of	various	possible	futures	with	the change	and	without	it.	In	some	cases	FBR	will	not	rank	highly	any	possible	futures involving	radical	change.	But	sometimes	it	will. It	can	certainly	occur	that	the	best possible	future	for	an	individual	is	one	that	includes	a	radical	change.	If	that's	so,	the individual	in	question	will	have	most	prudential	reason	to	undergo	the	change. Sharon's	case is like this.	The	best	possible futures for	her	are those	where she	takes	the	meds.	She	will	be	much	happier	in	the	future	with	meds,	and	even	nonhedonists typically grant significant prudential value to happiness. She will also have	more	success	in	her	endeavors,	even	though	those	endeavors	will	be	different in	her	new	life	than	in	her	old.	And	she	will	have	loving,	lasting	relationships.	These three features	will	be	absent from the	non-med life,	which	will also contain	much suffering from depression. If these are the only options, then it is clear that in welfare	terms	Sharon	has	most	reason	to	take	the	medications. Here	FBR	seems	to	give	the	right	verdict.	But	now	consider	a	very	different type of case, where the FBR view also recommends change. Consider the case of Chloe	who is	offered the following	opportunity,	which is	presented to	her (by the eager scientist	who developed it) as "the	magnificent alteration."8	The purpose of the procedure is to optimize future welfare prospects. However, the change required to	do	so is	very radical.	A	person	who	undergoes this	procedure	has	her mind	wiped clean, thereby losing all her beliefs,	memories, values, etc.	When she 8	This example was inspired by Jeff McMahan's example "The Cure." Jeff McMahan, The Ethics of Killing (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000), 77. In	McMahan's case an individual	must choose between certain death or continued life after going through an equally radical change.	McMahan's purposes	are	different from	mine.	He	aims to illustrate the fact that	many	people	care	less about	a future	self	that	is	radically	different	from	their	current	self.	He	goes	on	to	use	these	facts	about	care to support his theory of time relative interests. However, even if he is right about most people's feelings, I	doubt these feelings	have the	normative	significance	he	assigns them. In	an	unpublished companion	essay	to	the	present	one	I	argue	against	McMahan's	theory	of	time-relative	interests. Published	In:	Oxford	Studies	in	Normative	Ethics	Volume	9.	Edited	by	Mark	Timmons,	Oxford University	Press	(2019). 10 awakes she will not remember her past life. However, the changes go beyond alterations of mental content. The procedure will also alter her natural psychological dispositions in	ways that "optimize" her personality, giving her just the	right	degree	of	(for	example)	extroversion,	or	conscientiousness.	This	will	be	the precise degree of extroversion (or conscientiousness) that most often leads to happiness	(or	success	as	defined	by	other	theories	of	prudential	value).	Other	traits will	be	similarly	fine-tuned.	After	the	procedure	is	over,	she	will	have	no	real	reason to	try	to	re-create	her	old	life	because,	given	the	deeper	psychological	changes	she has	undergone,	that	life	will	no	longer	fit	her. Chloe,	understandably,	is	appalled	by	this	description	and	wonders	why	this crazy man thinks she would want it. But his answer is that it creates for her a possible	future	with	much	greater	overall	well-being.	As	she	is	now,	her	life	is	going fairly	well,	but	there	are	still	some	definite,	long-standing	problems.	The	person	she is currently faces a lifetime	welfare ceiling, one she could surpass if she changed. Currently, her values and her personality sometimes undermine her ability to achieve	her	goals.	Studies	of	people	who	have	previously	undergone	the	magnificent alteration	show	that it	works	wonders.	A fresh	start	with	a	different	psychological profile	will	enable	Chloe	to	have	a	life	much	higher	in	overall	welfare	value	than	any life	open	to	her	as	she	is. The	example is	deliberately	extreme.	Yet it is	not crazy to suppose that for some	people	really	radical	change	would	enable	them	to	live	much	better	lives	from the	standpoint	of	welfare. In	such	a	case, the	best	possible	prudential future is	the one that includes radical change and so FBR says that the individual has the strongest	prudential	reason	to	undergo	the	change.9	And	yet,	most	people,	including myself, have the intuition that it couldn't be prudentially best to undergo such a change.	Not	only	does	Chloe	not	have	most	reason	to	choose	it,	she	may	have	little	or no	reason	to	given	that	her	alternative,	while	not	perfect,	is	still	a	perfectly	good	life 9	McMahan says of his example, "The Cure," that "most of us would at least be skeptical of the wisdom	of	taking	the	treatment	and	many	would	be	deeply	opposed	to	it"	(2000,	77).	However,	FBR will	clearly	say	that	one	ought	to	take	the	cure,	because	the	only	options	are	radical	change	or	death, and	it	is	clear	that	the	life	after	radical	change	is	well	worth	living,	i.e.	it	has	net	positive	welfare	value for	the	subject. Published	In:	Oxford	Studies	in	Normative	Ethics	Volume	9.	Edited	by	Mark	Timmons,	Oxford University	Press	(2019). 11 overall.	How	do	we	explain	this	in	a	way	that	preserves	our	original	intuition	about Sharon,	namely, that	sometimes	radical	change	can	be	the	best	option, the	one	we have	most	reason	to	choose? §3.0	Why	Identity	is	Not	the	Solution:	Part	I.	Numerical	Identity Our	question then is	why the	magnificent alteration is	not the	prudentially best choice for Chloe.	What explains this fact?	When presented	with this kind of case,	most philosophers reach for a certain kind of answer, an answer framed in terms	of	identity.	The	basic	gist	of	the	response	is	that	this	is	not	a	good	option	for Chloe,	because	the	individual	post-change	is	no	longer	Chloe.	Now	it	may	be	that	the answer lies somewhere in this area. But there are at least two ways of understanding	or	interpreting	this	idea	that	strike	me	as	quite	unpromising.	I	want first	intend	to	explain	what	these	are	and	why	they	fail.	This	will	set	the	stage	for	my explanation	of	why	I	remain	skeptical	of	the	entire	strategy. There	are	at	least	two	quite	different	things	philosophers	talk	about	using	the language of identity. These are what I shall here call numerical identity and character	identity.10 I	examine	numerical	identity	first. Questions about numerical identity are questions about the persistence conditions	over	time	for	a	certain	type	of	entity. It is true	that if	a	change	were	so radical that it caused the individual	who changes to go	out	of existence,	we could not,	in	the	cases	that	interest	us,	say	that	this	was	good	for	the	individual.	But	is	that what radical change does in a case like Chloe's? Does it destroy one of us? That depends	on	what	you	think	we	fundamentally	are. A	theory	of	numerical	identity	for	x's	presupposes	an	understanding	of	what an x essentially is. Thus, closely allied with theories of numerical identity are theories of our essence, theories that answer the question of what we most 10	Schechtman	draws	the	same	basic	distinction	in	terms	of	two	questions:	the	re-identification question	and	the	characterization	question.	Marya	Schechtman,	The	Constitution	of	Selves	(Ithaca: Cornell	University,	1996).	DeGrazia	draws	the	same	distinction	in	terms	of	numerical	identity	and narrative	identity,	but	since	I	want	my	argument	to	apply	to	a	broader	set	of	theories	of	self	than	just narrative	views,	I	avoid	his	terminology	and	refer	to	"characterization	identity."	See	David	DeGrazia, Human	Identity	and	Bioethics	(Cambridge:	Cambridge	University	Press,	2005). Published	In:	Oxford	Studies	in	Normative	Ethics	Volume	9.	Edited	by	Mark	Timmons,	Oxford University	Press	(2019). 12 fundamentally	are.	There	are	(at	least)	three	popular	answers	to	the	question	of	our essence.	To	begin	with,	we	are	human	beings,	a	type	of	animal.	Animalist	theories	of identity	over	time	explain	our	persistence	conditions	in	terms	of	the	persistence	of	a particular	animal	or	organism.11	We	are	also,	however,	sentient	creatures	in	virtue of having a brain that persists through time and produces conscious experiences. Embodied	mind	accounts	of	identity	explain	our	persistence	conditions	in	terms	of the	continued	existence	of	a	brain	capable	of	conscious	experience.12 And	finally,	we are	persons	in	the	philosophical	sense	of	beings	with	certain	complex	psychological capacities such	as	higher-order	desires, and	awareness	of	ourselves	as temporally extended beings.13	On these views our persistence through time consists in the persistence through time of certain psychological connections, often described as overlapping	chains	of	psychological	connections. For	a long	time	the	question	about	the	persistence	conditions	of	beings	like you and me was referred to as "the problem of personal identity." But this description is misleading. It runs together two distinct questions. One is the question	of	what	it	takes	for	the	same	person to	survive	a	change.	The	other	is	the question of whether we are essentially persons, such that the destruction of the person	I	now	am	would	be	the	death	of	me,	or	whether I	could	survive	as	a living non-person. For a person essentialist an answer to the first question is also an answer	to	the	second.	But	for	other	types	of	theorists-for	example,	animalists	and embodied mind theorists-the questions are importantly distinct. For these theorists it is quite possible to accept as a theory of	what it takes for a person to continue	one	of	the	familiar	psychological	accounts	of	psychological	continuity,	even while rejecting the idea that	you	and I	are	essentially	persons.	For these theorists 11	See	several	examples	of	such	a	view	see	e.g.	Eric	T.	Olson,	The	Human	Animal:	Personal	Identity Without	Psychology,	(Oxford:	Oxford	University	Press,	1997)	and	Peter	van	Inwagen,	Material	Beings (Ithaca:	Cornell	University	Press,	1990). 12	For	several	defenses	of	this	kind	of	view	see	McMahan	(2000);	DeGrazia	(2005). 13	There	are	many	such	views,	e.g.	Derek	Parfit,	"Personal	Identity,"	Philosophical	Review	80: (1971):3-27	and	Reasons	and	Persons,	(Oxford:	Oxford	University	Press,	1984);	Sydney	Shoemaker, "Self	and	Substance,"	in	Philosophical	Perspectives,	(Vol.	11)	J.	Tomberlin,	(ed.):	(1997):	283-319; "Self,	Body,	and	Coincidence"	Proceedings	of	the	Aristotelian	Society	(Supplementary	Volume),	73: 287-306. Published	In:	Oxford	Studies	in	Normative	Ethics	Volume	9.	Edited	by	Mark	Timmons,	Oxford University	Press	(2019). 13 personhood	is	a	phase	of	our life,	but it	does	not	necessarily	set	the	boundaries	of our	existence. Importantly, for a long time the two	questions	were routinely conflated, in part	because	so	many	theorists	unreflectively	assumed	person	essentialism.	There are	various	diagnoses	of	what	led	to	this.	For	example,	Eric	Olson	contends	that	for	a long time	philosophers	conflated issues	of	practical concern-ethical issues-with metaphysical	ones.	Psychological continuity theories	may	help	us	answer	many	of our important ethical concerns, but they are very poor accounts of what we are metaphysically. I	myself	am	inclined	to	think	I	could	survive	as	a	non-person	(for	example,	if	I ever	develop	dementia and live to the end stages	of the	disease)	or as a	different person	(for	example,	if	I	went	through	a	procedure	like	the	magnificent	alteration). It	also	seems	plausible	to	me	that	I	started	life	as	a	non-person	(a	fetus).	On	the	view I	favor	"person"	is	just	something	I	am	during	a	certain	phase	of	my	life,	much	as	I am	a	parent	now.	Saying	this	need	not	imply	that	persons	are	unimportant	or	that	it is not typically better to be a person than to be a non-person. However, the important	point	for	the	purposes	of	this	essay	is	that	radical	change	of	the	sort	that disrupts psychological continuity enough to potentially create a new person or a non-person,	will	only	disrupt	numerical	identity	if	it	turns	out	that	we	are	essentially persons.	So	we	can	only	hope	to	use	numerical	identity	to	explain	the	problem	with Chloe's	case	if	we	are	person	essentialists. I	have	so	far	not	explained	why	I	think	we	should	reject	person	essentialism, but I	will	now.	As I	see it, the	decisive	considerations	have	to	do	with the familiar notion of anticipation. Anticipating our own future experiences is very different from	knowing that someone else	will experience certain things in the future.	And when we look to intuitions about which future experiences we can anticipate having,	these	suggest	that	one	of	us	would	survive	even	radical	changes	of	the	sort described	in	Chloe's	case. Bernard	Williams	offered the following famous example that highlights the issue.	He	asked	his	reader	to	imagine	being	captured	and	then	told	the	following:	"A series	of things	are	going	to	be	done	to	you,	but the	upshot is that the	contents	of Published	In:	Oxford	Studies	in	Normative	Ethics	Volume	9.	Edited	by	Mark	Timmons,	Oxford University	Press	(2019). 14 your	mind	will	be	fully	erased. Once	the	procedure	is	complete,	the	living	individual who	remains-an	individual	who	will	have	the	same	brain	as	you	but	who	will	not think	of	himself	as	you	nor	have	any	memories	of	your	life-will	gradually	be	fed	a series of false	memories and other	mental contents so that he comes to think of himself as a different person. After this is all complete, this individual will be tortured."14 Williams	asked	whether	or	not it	makes	sense to	be	concerned	about	what will	happen	to	this later individual.	Obviously	you	will	be	upset	by	the	prospect	of procedures	that	will	erase	your	mind.	But	by	hypothesis,	you	can't	stop	that.	Should you fear the torture that the post-procedure individual	will experience?	Williams suggests (and I believe) that fear of the torture	makes perfect sense. But this, in turn,	suggests	that	numerical	identity	is	something	that	can	survive	the	destruction of all one's psychological features. It can survive quite radical change of the sort that	would	alter	or	even	destroy	the	original	person. Admittedly, not all theorists will agree with me, as these issues remain deeply contested. Anyone committed to person essentialism will think that the destruction	of	the	person	is	the	death	of	me,	and	that	there	is	no	sense	in	which	I	can be	said	to	experience	that	later	pain.	However,	for	those	who	accept	my	rejection	of person	essentialism, it	should	be	clear	that	we	can't	explain	the	badness	of	radical change	in	Chloe's	case	by	appeal	to	numerical	identity.	On	the	view	I	favor,	Chloe	is still	around	and	has	not	changed	her	(numerical)	identity	even	after	such	a	radical alteration. 14	Williams stops short of drawing the strong conclusion that I draw, namely the conclusion that numerical	identity	can	survive	the	destruction	of	the	person.	His	paper	instead	emphasizes	the	ways in	which	our	intuitions	can	apparently	go	quite	different	ways	depending	on	how	a	case	is	described. However,	many	philosophers	(including	myself)	have	subsequently	been	willing	to	use	examples	like this	one,	which comes from	Williams, to	draw	stronger conclusions than	Williams	did in the	essay where	this	first	appeared.	Bernard	Williams,	"The	Self	and	the	Future,"	The	Philosophical	Review	79: 2:	(1970):	161-180. Published	In:	Oxford	Studies	in	Normative	Ethics	Volume	9.	Edited	by	Mark	Timmons,	Oxford University	Press	(2019). 15 §4.0	Why	Identity	is	Not	the	Solution:	Part	II.	Character	Identity There is another very common use of 'identity' according to which our identity	is,	roughly,	our	self.	An	account	of	our	identity	in	this	sense	is	an	answer	to the	question	"Who	am	I?,"	a	question	Marya	Schechtman	labels	"the	characterization question." 15 There are actually two closely related concepts here. Sometimes philosophers	are	interested	in	what	they	call	"the	true	self."	An	account	of	the	true self	is	an	account	of	which	character	traits,	values,	beliefs,	etc.	are	truly	definitive	of a particular person. Sometimes, however, philosophers are	more interested in an individual's	own	self-conception,	the	particular	way	that	she	answers	for	herself	the characterization question. Either way, however, on most such views, character identity is primarily defined in psychological terms.	Who I am depends on things like	my	personality,	my	values,	my	characteristic	responses	to	things,	and	so	on	and so	forth.	Although	interesting	questions	can	arise	about	who	someone	really	is	if	or when her self-conception and the facts about her psychology diverge, for the purposes of this project such issues are not really important. We are simply interested	in	how	much	change	a	self	(or	a	self-conception)	can	undergo	before	we have	a	new	self	(or	before	a	person's	self-conception	is	so	different	as	to	be	a	new self-conception). The notion of self may seem more relevant to explaining the badness	of	certain	radical	changes. Unfortunately, these views, though interesting and important in many respects, tend to be vague	when it comes to the questions that interest	me. How much	change	and	what	kind	of	change	is	compatible	with	being	the	same	self	or	the same person in the characterization sense? What accounts for the difference between	a case	where a change	occurs and	what	we	have afterwards is the same person	with	some	different	qualities	(call	this	"old-self-modified")	and	cases	where so	much	has	changed	that	now	we	have	a	new	person	entirely	(call	this	"new-self- 15	See	Schectman	(1996)	and "Staying	Alive:	Personal	Continuation	and	a	Life	Worth	Living,"	in Practical	Identity	and	Narrative	Agency,	(eds.)	Kim	Atkins	and	Catriona	Mackenzie	(New	York: Routledge,	2008),	31-55. Published	In:	Oxford	Studies	in	Normative	Ethics	Volume	9.	Edited	by	Mark	Timmons,	Oxford University	Press	(2019). 16 formed")? It is	presumably	a	matter	of	degree, and	different theorists	will answer differently.	Obviously,	because	the	Chloe	case	is	so	extreme,	almost	any	view	will	see it	as	a	case	of	new-self-formed.	But	recall	that	we	want	an	account	that	allows	us	to draw	a	plausible	line	between	a	case	like	Chloe's	and	a	case	like	Sharon's.	We	want to	continue	to	be	able to	say that	radical	change is the	best	option for	Sharon	and that she has	most prudential reason to choose it.	We don't	want to purchase the right answer for Chloe at the price of giving up our claim about Sharon. Thus everything turns here on	whether theories of the self	would see Sharon after she takes	the	meds	as	a	new-self-formed	or	as	an	old-self-modified. Consider then a cluster of popular theories of self united by the emphasis they	place	on	a	person's	core	values.	Call	these	value	theories	of	self.	For	example, many theorists, inspired by Harry Frankfurt have come to understand the self in terms	of	commitments (and	values) that	are	made	(or	adopted)	by	a	higher-order self	(or	perhaps	the	rational	self).16	Frankfurt	actually	says	more	about	personhood than selfhood.17	He gives us an account of	what it takes for a person to remain a person	(as	opposed	to	a	non-person).	Roughly for	Frankfurt	personhood is tied to the	capacity	for	developing	stable	higher-order	attitudes.	Lose	that	capacity	and	you will cease to be a person. However,	many people interested in the self have also been	inspired	by	Frankfurt's	ideas,	and	it	is	clear	why.	There	are	materials	here	that seem	well suited to	answering the	characterization	question.	Who I am	at	a	given time	may	also	be	determined	by	the	attitudes	of	the	higher-order	self,	or	the	rational self.	What	I	come	to	value	in	this	reflective	way	may	serve	as	an	account	of	who	I	am, most	fundamentally. 16	Schechtman (1996, 2008) among	others cites Frankfurt as an example of someone	who	offers a theory	that	can	be	read	as	an	answer	to	the	characterization	question.	Another	example	she	cites	is Christine	Korsgaard,	The	Sources	of	Normativity	(Cambridge:	Cambridge	University	Press,	1996);	and Self Constitution: Action, Identity and Integrity (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009), though Schechtman	writing	in	2008	cites	the	version	that,	at	the	time,	was	available	on	Korsgaard's	website. 17	See	e.g.	Frankfurt,	"Freedom	of	the	Will	and	the	Concept	of	a	Person,"	Journal	of	Philosophy	68:	1: (1971):	5-20.	For	other	Frankfurt	essays	key	to	the	interpretation	of	theorists	like	Schechtman	see "The	Importance	of	What	We	Care	About,"	Synthese:	An	International	Journal	for	Epistemology, Methodology,	and	Philosophy	of	Science.	53:	2:	(1982):	257272;	"Identification	and Wholeheartedness In:	Responsibility,	Character	and	the	Emotions:	New	Essays	in	Moral	Psychology,	ed. Ferdinand	Schoeman	(New	York:	Cambridge	University	Press,	1987),	27-45;	"Identification	and Externality,"	In:	The	Identities	of	Persons,	ed.	A.	Rorty	(Berkeley:	University	of	California	Press,	1976), 239-52. Published	In:	Oxford	Studies	in	Normative	Ethics	Volume	9.	Edited	by	Mark	Timmons,	Oxford University	Press	(2019). 17 However,	this	still	doesn't	help	us	to	answer	the	question	of	when	a	person (without ceasing to be a person) becomes different enough to count as a new or distinct	person.	Presumably	I	could	maintain	throughout	life	the	capacity	for	higherorder	thought	(and	so	always	remain	a	person),	even	while	changing	my	mind	about some	of	the	things	that	matter.	I	doubt	any	advocate	of	such	a	view	would	deny	that. But	what	they	don't	say	is	how	much	such	change	is	compatible	with	remaining	the same person in the characterization sense. Alas, there is no precise answer to be found. So it remains	unclear	whether this kind	of approach	would count Sharon's changes	as	sufficiently	radical	to	make	her	a	new	person. Still, somewhat	worrisomely, it seems	plausible that	a	philosopher	working in	this	vein	might	say	that	post-medication	she	is	a	new-self.	A	few	years	out	from her	change	(if	she	undergoes	it)	she	will	care	very	little	about	most	of	the	things	that seemed	important	to	her	before.	People	who	knew	her	before	will	be	struck	by	the depth	of	the	change.	Our	goal,	however,	is	to	find	a	way	to	use	the	notion	of	identity to	distinguish	between	Sharon	and	Chloe.	So	only	if	we	are	certain	that	such	a	view of	self	can	accommodate	the	intuition	that	Sharon's	change	is	best	for	her	should	we appeal	to	it. Now	consider	briefly	a	very	different	approach	to	understanding	the	self	and answering the characterization question. This is a type of view that has become quite popular in recent years: the narrative self view.18	Though there are many variants	of	this	approach,	the	basic	idea	is	easy	enough	to	grasp:	it	is	that	a	person's self is	constituted	by	a	narrative.	This	narrative is the	story	she	tells	herself	about herself	and	about	what	has	happened	to	her	and	why.	It is	composed	of	much	less than all the things that have happened in her life. Rather it incorporates those happenings	that	seem	important	to	her,	and	that	stand	in	special	narrative	relations to	other	events in	her life.	Nor	are these	events limited to just the	ones that	seem good	to	her.	Rather,	the	narrative	incorporates	events	both	good	and	bad	that	need to be understood or that help to make other events intelligible. The themes and patterns	that	emerge	help	individuals	create	meaning	out	of	what	might	otherwise 18	Again,	there	are	many	examples,	but	Schechtman	(1996)	is	a	main	defender.	DeGrazia	(2005)	also accepts	a	narrative	view	of	self. Published	In:	Oxford	Studies	in	Normative	Ethics	Volume	9.	Edited	by	Mark	Timmons,	Oxford University	Press	(2019). 18 seem	like	a	random	series	of	events.	This	self-constituting	narrative	allows	a	person to	make	sense	of	where	she	has	been	and	where	she	is	going. As before we want to know whether the narrative-self view can handle Sharon. It is pretty clear that it will deem Chloe to be a new-self after the magnificent alteration. After all, there could be no	more thorough disruption to a narrative.	Yet	presumably	the	narrative	self	view, like	value	based	theories	of	self, can	accommodate	a	certain	degree	of	change	as	long	as	there	is	a	way	to	make	sense of	the	change	within	a	single,	coherent	story.	The	story	must,	however	incorporate what has happened before the change and after it. This is not a huge constraint, since	stories	can	develop in	so	many	ways.	For	any	particular	beginning there	are presumably	many	coherent	continuations. And	yet,	even	so,	I	don't	know	whether	such	a	theory	could	be	trusted	to	give the	right	verdict	about	Sharon.	Sharon	has	a	self	narrative that	she	has	developed over time. Indeed, as explained earlier, part of her resistance to taking the medications	is	that	she	worries	it	will	change	her	in	ways	that,	from	the	perspective of	her	current	narrative,	are	incoherent.	Suppose	she	takes	the	meds.	For	her	to	reap the benefits of the change, sooner or later she	will need to acknowledge that the changes she thought would be bad are not really so. But this will require abandoning	key	elements	of	the	old	story.	For	example	she	may	eventually	have	to admit that	her earlier self	was	not	nearly as "deep" as she took	herself to	be, nor were	others	so	"shallow." I	would	thus	not	be	surprised	if it	were	difficult	or	even impossible	to	find	a	single	coherent	narrative	that	could	incorporate	all	of	this	in	the right	way.	Again,	until	we	are	sure	the	narrative	self	view	can	give	the	right	verdict about Sharon,	we should	not appeal to it to draw the line between good and	bad radical	change. §5.0	Persons,	The	Self	and	Welfare I have described a problem that arises in one form or another for many theories of welfare, namely, the problem of radical change-the problem of capturing	deeply	held	intuitions	to	the	effect	that	certain	kinds	of	extreme	changes Published	In:	Oxford	Studies	in	Normative	Ethics	Volume	9.	Edited	by	Mark	Timmons,	Oxford University	Press	(2019). 19 could	either	never	be	prudentially	best	or	could	only	rarely	be	so.	I	have	also	tried	to explain	why	what	might	seem	like	the	most	obvious	response	to	this	problem	will not	straightforwardly	work.	In	this	last	section	I	present	considerations	that	suggest that the whole general strategy of appealing to characterization identity is misguided.	I	then	sketch	an	alternative	approach. Ordinarily	we tend to suppose that	we have at least	a reason to resist too much	change	to	our	selves,	to	who	we	are.	Of	course,	this	reason	can	be	overridden if enough factors point a different way. But it would presumably take a lot to override it.	Yet,	what	makes	us	think	we	have	such	a	reason?	There	may	be	moral reasons in the vicinity. But even so, if that is all we can say, we have not done anything to block the conclusion about welfare. The intuition we started with, however,	was	precisely	that	radical	change	was	bad	for	Chloe.	What	we	would	need instead is a prudential reason to remain as	we are. But	why think remaining the same	has	general	prudential	value? If	we set aside temporarily the cases	we have been discussing,	we can see that	in	many	real	life	situations	radical	change	is	prudentially	bad.	Moreover,	radical changes	are risky	because in real life it is so	hard to	know	what the	net	effects	of such	a	comprehensive	change	will	actually	be.	These	facts	may	explain	our	general presumption	against	radical	change,	but	they	don't	support	a	reason	not	to	change. And	they	don't	help	us	with	Chloe. There	are	other	reasons	why	we	are	usually	strongly	resistant	to	change.	On most	views	of	the	self	a	person's	values	are	a	key	component	of	who	she	is.	But	it	is at	least	partly	constitutive	of	genuinely	valuing	something	that	one	takes	oneself	to be	correct	in	doing	so.19	In	other	words,	if	I	value	a	certain	kind	of	project,	I	not	only approve of it or see value in it, but I may feel that I would be mistaken not to approve	of	it	and	also	mistaken	not	to	have	it	in	my	life.	While	understandable,	this seems	to	conflate	the	value	something	has	in	itself	(in	terms	of	which	it	may	merit	a 19	For example, Jaworska	writes, "one	would always view the	possibility of not valuing something one	currently	values	as	an	impoverishment,	loss,	or	mistake." Agnieszka	Jaworska, "Respecting	the Margins	of	Agency:	Alzheimer's	Patients	and	the	Capacity	to	Value. Philosophy	and	Public	Affairs	28: 2:	(1999):	105-38. Published	In:	Oxford	Studies	in	Normative	Ethics	Volume	9.	Edited	by	Mark	Timmons,	Oxford University	Press	(2019). 20 positive	evaluation)	and	its	prudential	value	for	me.	Even	if	the	thing	has	great	value, it	might	not	be	a	mistake	to	remove	it	from	my	life.	Again,	however,	this	explanation of	our	attitudes	does	nothing	to	justify	them	or	show	that	we	have	reason	to	resist self	change. Perhaps	one	might	argue	that	radical	self-change	just	is,	in	itself,	a	brute	kind of prudential bad, one that has significant negative	weight and	which gains	more negative	weight	as	change	becomes	greater.	Of	course, it	would	still	be just	one	of many prudential goods and bads that	would factor into an assessment of the net value of a possible future, but because of it is so very bad, really radical change would	rarely	(if	ever)	turn	out	to	be	prudentially	best.	This	yields	the	right	answer at	the	price	of	great	mystery.	What	could	motivate	such	a	move? If that general line of thought goes nowhere, then perhaps we should reconsider the resources available within the FBR. One important kind of consideration can	be	brought to	bear to explain	why	many radical changes	would not	be	prudentially	best.	Whenever	a	person	undergoes	a	radical	change	there	will be transition costs. The greater the change the greater the transition costs. For example,	if	I	have	changed	dramatically,	I	may	not	enjoy	or	even	have	the	aptitude for	many	of	the	things	I	once	did.	So	I	will	need	to	find	new	projects	to	engage	me.	I also	might	need	to	find	new	friends	or	form	new	relationships.	I	might	need	to	find	a new	career.	Yet	all	of	these	things	take	time.	While	I	am	working	to	re-create	my	life there	will	be	a	period	of	time	where	I	have	lost	the	old	goods	and	do	not	yet	have	the new	ones.	So	there	will	be	a	period	of	very	low	perhaps	even	negative	welfare	value. The thing to notice is that any	possible future that involves radical change and yet has net positive welfare value is one where the good that follows the transition	must	be	so	good	it	can	compensate	for	the	bad	and	still	tip	the	balance	to the	positive.	If	the	transition	costs	are	big	enough	then	the	goods	that	follow	must	be tremendous.	Finally,	if	a	possible	future	is	best	(as	opposed	to	just	net	positive),	then it	will	have	to	be	good	enough	to	cancel	the	transition	costs	and	still	come	out	with more	positive value than	other relevant possibilities, and there	will typically be a number	of	these	all	of	which	involve	less	change.	This	is	a	steep	requirement. Published	In:	Oxford	Studies	in	Normative	Ethics	Volume	9.	Edited	by	Mark	Timmons,	Oxford University	Press	(2019). 21 However, I don't deny that some theories will meet it. Yet which theories meet	it	and	how	often	they	recommend	radical	change	will	depend	on	the	details	of the theory of prudential value. Consider briefly a simple form of Benthamite hedonism. Pleasure is the only	within-life intrinsic value, and it is construed as a simple	feeling	the	value	of	which	is	exhausted	by	facts	about	intensity	and	duration. Transition	costs	are	typically	highest	when	we	try	to	recreate	post	change	complex goods like a network of friends or an engaging career, things that typically take years to establish. But if things like friendships and careers have value only instrumentally insofar as they lead to pleasure, then it	may	well be that the best strategy	after	a	radical	change	is	to	look	for	simpler,	more	easily	attainable	sources of	pleasure.	Assuming	there	are	some,	as	seems	plausible, then	there	will	be	a fair number of cases where radical change is part of the best possible future for a person.	So	she	will	have	most	reason	to	select	it.	But	those	possible	futures	will	look quite	different	from	futures	in	which	we	work	to	establish	new	networks	of	friends. In	short, simple	hedonism	would	presumably	recommend	radical	change far	more often than	other theories	because it	has	ways to	minimize transition	costs.	But its ways	of	minimizing	transition	costs	will	not	strike	many	as	really	prudentially	good, thus	revealing	another	implausible	consequence	of	simple	hedonism. Suppose, however, we assign prudential value directly to things like engagement in valued projects and the development and maintenance of good relationships.	And	suppose	we	allow	that	such	things	have	much	more	value	when (in the	case	of	projects) they	engage	more	of	our faculties	or	when	(in the	case	of relationships)	our feelings	are	strongest	and	returned,	and	the	relationship lasts	a long time. On such a view the transition costs of radical change begin to look formidable. Even	so, I imagine	there	will	be	cases	where	radical	change	turns	out to	be worth	it.	Someone	who	is	very	young	has	years	ahead	to	refashion	a	life, including time	to	develop	and	nurture	new	relationships,	and	so	on	and	so forth. If that life, once	created,	would	be	dramatically	better, then it	might	prudentially	speaking	be worth	it for	this	person	to	start	over.	Even	for	someone	who	is	not	quite	so	young but	who has no very good relationships or no valuable, engaging projects, it	may Published	In:	Oxford	Studies	in	Normative	Ethics	Volume	9.	Edited	by	Mark	Timmons,	Oxford University	Press	(2019). 22 make	sense	to	start	over. Still,	once	we	adopt	a	more	sophisticated	theory	of	value, transition	costs	can	go	a	long	way	towards	explaining	why	radical	change	is	rarely the	best	option. Such	an	approach	can	explain	why	Sharon's	change	is	good.	She	is	young,	her depression is	undermining	her	relationships	and	she	has the	potential to	do	more and	relate	better	if	she	changes.	As	for	Chloe,	how	we	view	the	case	may	depend	on details	that	were	not	initially	provided.	It	was	simply	stipulated	when	the	case	was presented that it	was one	where the prudential value of the possible future	with radical	change	was	clearly	much	higher	than	any	others.	But	is	that	even	possible?	It is	of	course logically	possible,	but is it	going	to	turn	up	a	real	possibility	given	the world	as	it	is	and	the	facts	of	human	psychological	being	what	they	are?	Perhaps	it would if her life to date were miserable, and she had no other possibilities that would	lead	to	engaging	work	and	deep	relationships.	Then	it	might	be	plausible	that the	greatest	net	value	lies	on	the	other	side	of	the	magnificent	alteration,	even	given the	huge	transition	costs.	But	it	now	seems	like	a	very	rare	kind	of	case	indeed. Obviously I have	not solved these	problems entirely. It remains to be seen whether	this	approach	can	resolve	all	the	problems.	But	it	seems	more	promising	to me than a focus on the importance of identity. For it seems to me that the importance	of	identity	is	not	a	brute	prudential	fact.	Rather	it	matters,	when	it	does, because	of	what	else	depends	on it.	Some	of	my	prudential	goods	require	that I	be me.	And	since	usually	they	are	the	best	goods	open	to	me,	it	remains	important	that I	remain	me.