Non Identity

The royal guard stood stoically.

Unwavering in composition and stature, alert to the slightest disturbances yet displaying no signs of doing so, ready to stand strong in the line of duty and lay down his life for the honour of upholding the royal code he swore an oath to, prepared at any moment to face potential threats for the greater glory of protecting the majestic land that was Equestria.

If somepony was there to witness it, they would be impressed.

The guard let out a sigh, being stationed in the castle just outside Celestia's private study, currently unoccupied, sounded much more interesting when his superior had told him about it the day before.

The study was perched upon one of the tall spires of the gleaming Canterlot palace. The view of the city was exceptional from up there, sprawling districts and urban centres revealed in all glamour the city planners had intended. It didn't make his shift any more enjoyable but it comforted him knowing it was there nonetheless.

The guard juggled his spear between his hooves and peered upwards. The sun wasn't moving any faster than he had hoped, in fact it seemed as if it had been stuck in the same position for several hours whereas only seconds had passed. The thought of asking Celestia to move the massive thing to the opposite side of the sky crossed his mind but was immediately smothered by the potential humiliation he would have to face from the other guards, inquisitive journalists and indeed the princess herself. A long day lay ahead.

At moments such as this, the guard found the inner confines of his consciousness to be a suitable retreat, where his mind roamed freely over the greater meaning in life or simply retrieved information pertaining to what he had for lunch the day before. It was a complex, ever changing process that rarely presented itself in a clear and ordered manner, but somehow he made sense of it.

At this particular time however, the guard's free ranging thoughts recalled for him the various sights, sounds and smells encountered during his walk to work this morning. There was much to remember. The crowds of snobs, heavily saturated with layers of perfume and engaging in the most recent shallow gossip was commonplace and as such not even worth considering.

This morning however, it was not the drink of the day at Java Hut, nor the sight of a passed out drunk haphazardly snoring in the alleyway, but that of a poor old mare slumped on the side of the street that he remembered with the most vivid clarity.

The sad little thing seemed lifeless, like a doll, albeit not one any sane pony would spend money on. She wore a ratty cloak which covered her equally filthy coat while shaggy unkempt strands of hair blanketed her face like a set of grotesque drapes concealing something that could not be described nicely with words. The masses had passed her by, unaware to the lone world of suffering she inhabited, but he saw her.

It was shame, really it was. Poverty was one small blemish on the beautiful face of Canterlot that was just not large enough to attract substantial attention.

The guard wondered for a moment, was this melancholy ordeal something the poor mare herself was born into? Or did a series of unfortunate circumstances lead her astray off the high road and into the slums? For that matter, was it the same for all who were less fortunate or did it vary place by place, pony by pony?

Whatever the answer, something needed to be done. The welfare programs did their fair share but in situations like these it was the will of society as a whole that truly counted when it came to confronting such a problem. It was a pony's desire to help another that would be the prime factor in drastically changing the lives of the poor souls who suffered in silence.

The guard paused on that thought. Drastically changing lives? What did that mean? Aside from lifting some pony, say that old mare he encountered this morning, out of poverty's grip, did it also mean that while one new life emerged, the old one was destroyed?

The mare, as she was now, had her entire existence conditioned by the regrettable state she was in, specifically the event that was its cause. At some point, she had been wronged in life, let down or harmed, and because of that, she existed as she did now. It was the poor old mare slumped on the side of the street that lived, not a happy prosperous one. It was her entire being that rode on that one crucial event in which she had gotten the short end of the stick, otherwise the sad old tramp wouldn't be, but something else would.

Yes, if that low point in her life never happened she would be living a much happier state of being, but would she, in that existence, be the same as the one in her current existence? The unfortunate mare, as he saw this morning, wouldn't be alive in that one instead replaced by a much more fortunate mare!

The guard furrowed his brow, he had never gone this deep before, but the vast unknown realm of thought beckoned him to go further.

As he saw it, the poor mare lived a flawed existence. It was unavoidable, for if the existence was to be less flawed, that is if the poor mare were to be better off, than the existence would have to be erased entirely or simply never come to be!

It seemed quite obvious that a flawed existence was better than not having one at all. Life was still worth living even though it wasn't as good as it could be, especially if the only alternative was to have no life at all.

Now if all this was indeed the case, was it a moral obligation of every pony to maximize benefit in society such that flawed existences never came to fruition? Even if that was a practically achievable goal, would society denying those existences, flawed as they may be, be morally wrong?

By choosing to create the alternative to an unavoidably flawed existence, that is none at all, was society helping those potential ponies whose lives would have been somewhat undesirable by keeping them from ever being?

No, of course not. If faced with the choice of an unavoidably worse than normal life or no life at all the decision would always be life hooves down. But did that mean every action that prevented ponies from being worse off was immorally robbing a possible existence of that pony? The pony would lead a better life with the action but the less fortunate future version wouldn't exist at all, which was worse for that future version than having an unavoidably flawed but actual existence.

These existence inducing acts brought into the world better off ponies, non-identical but better off. As such, would it just be best to ensure that more fortunate existences came to be as opposed to flawed ones? What about all those ponies who would never exist because society created non-identical versions of them? Likewise, what about all the unflawed existences that would never come to be if no pony ever did anything to induce it?

If an existence is worth having, and no pony’s interest is at stake, it is unclear on what grounds morality would insist that bringing one pony into existence over another would be unethical. It was a paradox for certain.

The moral of the story was no doubt related to whether or not obligations extended beyond what must be done to ponies. If one agrees that it is in fact our obligation to create additional good, does that good suffice for every existing and future pony? Or does this whole conundrum suggest focusing on making additional good for the entire universe?

Moreover, how would one evaluate an existence inducing act for its moral permissibility? Would we simply permit it viable to weigh potential outcomes, different futures and perhaps entirely different worlds by their moral soundness and discard all but one from becoming reality?

The guard pulled his head from the thought bubble and vigorously shook his head. In just the past ten minutes some of his most deeply held intuitions had been cast into a realm of uncertainty, and he wasn’t pleased in the slightest.

“Are you faring well my guard?”

The sudden words froze him, the phrase gliding through his ears like the most elegant figure skater on a sheet of freshly formed ice. Such eloquent speech could only belong to the sun princess herself.

The guard slowly peered up at his ruler. A shining, radiant coat of white and a smiling face that could pacify a demon looked back at him.

“It’s been an awfully long day, I’m impressed by your diligence in managing to remain for such a stretch.”

The guard slowly nodded.

“As thanks, I hereby relieve you of duty for the remainder of the day. I’ve spoken to your superior and you’re free to go.”

The guard smiled weakly and began pacing away. As Celestia opened the door to her study she looked back at the poor soul who had to endure such a strenuous shift.

“Don’t worry, the pony who has to guard my study for another four hours doesn’t exist anymore, but you do. Go out and enjoy yourself, you’ve earned it.” With that she retreated into the spire and shut the doors.

The guard stopped. Doesn’t exist anymore? Did she just destroy who I could have been?

He immediately halted that train of thought. Forget it, I’m hungry.

And then he trotted down the steps.

Author's Note:

For a more in depth description, go here.

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