I feel like this is just a really obnoxious argument about definitions.
I especially feel like this is a really obnoxious argument about definitions when the wiki article quotes things like:
"Take the supposed illusion of change. This must mean that something, X, appears to change when in fact it does not change at all. That may be true about X; but how could the illusion occur unless there were change somewhere? If there is no change in X, there must be a change in the deluded mind that contemplates X. The illusion of change is actually a changing illusion. Thus the illusion of change implies the reality of some change. Change, therefore, is invincible in its stubbornness; for no one can deny the appearance of change."
So, to taboo a bunch of words, and to try and state my take on the actual issue as I understand it (including some snark):
B theory: Let there be this thing called spacetime which encodes all moments of time (past,present, future) and space (i.e., the universe). The phenomenal experience of existence is akin to tracking a very particular slice of spacetime move along at the speed that time inches forward, as observed by me.
A theory: My mind is the fundame...
It seems to me that they're both perfectly valid and indeed equivalent. Like a change of basis, though, you will seem to have rearranged everything.
ETA: Actually, this IS a change of basis.
I suspect the tendency to favour A over B .or vice versa is related to cognitive styles which favour raw (ish) experience versus cognitive styles which favour theory and detachment.
ETA
Experience favours presentism, because the past and future are not "there" phenomenologically, and changing present moment is.
Theory favours eternalism because it is hard to represent change mathematically ... it gets lost in the translation.
From a constructivist standpoint, I can observe the present, so that's there. Than I can construct based on that the past and the future.
It seems like the nature of time should be emotionally neutral1.
I personally can say that I had a very strong belief that if I awake and the last day I remember is Tuesday it should be Wednesday and not Monday. It was quite a shock to learn that isn't true.
Fundamental beliefs often do come with strong emotions if they are challenged.
...Some A-theorists report that a particular basic experience of "becoming"
When reading the first paragraph I stopped to think what my intuition about 'orderings of events in time' is. Before being primed by actual proposals (I luckily didn't know A vs. B beforehand and the naming doesn't give anything away). I thought about some events today and yesterday, their ordering and was mindful of how I phrased it and the tempos used. I didn't came to any clear theory of time this way.
To be specific I used phrases like "yesterday I did A and then I did B", "today I first did C and now do D", "later I will do E ...
I dislike how people call this vague A- (or B-) intuition a theory, given how it is untestable even in principle. It's no more a "theory" than counting the proverbial angels on the head of a pin. The term "true" does not apply in this case.
I'm not sure why, but I use A-series for epistemology and B-series for metaphysics. That's probably deeply wrong somehow, but it fits with a strong belief in the fallibility of both memory and prediction.
I had to re-read this several times before I understood the point of what you were saying. It has a lot of important things missing, in particular:
Why bring time into this? Intuitions 1 and 2 collide in the same way regardless of whether the two mind-states are causally connected (e.g. I'd still feel that a sufficiently-similar-to-me simulation in some place outside my light cone is still me, somehow, even though I don't have any of his qualia).
How does B-theory solve this problem?
If time were topologically a loop, wouldn't both A and B theories be inaccurate representations of time?
They'd still work locally, but not globally.
I haven't actually spoken to a lot of people about their philosophy of time, but my best guess for why one would develop a strong emotion on the topic is that when one first encounters the distinction, one identifies one of the theories as "common sense" and the other as "counterintuitive philosophy", and they have a strong emotional disposition one way or the other regarding that dichotomy.
(I'm not sure there's a general answer to which theory is common sense, but I think it's likely one would make an identification one way or the other)
I'm trying to understand those A-theorists who aren't bothered by the implications of the B-theory for free will.
You're trying to figure out what the payoff is in believing A-Theory, if it's not being used to solve some conceptual tizzy over free will, or are you trying to figure out how they manage not to have a tizzy over the implications of B-Theory for free will?
I've always been puzzled by why so many people have such strong intuitions about whether the A-theory or the B-theory1 of time is true. [ETA: I've written "A-theory" and "B-theory" as code for "presentism" and "eternalism", but see the first footnote.] It seems like nothing psychologically important turns on this question. And yet, people often have a very strong intuition supporting one theory over the other. Moreover, this intuition seems to be remarkably primitive. That is, whichever theory you prefer, you probably felt an immediate affinity for that conception of time as soon as you started thinking about time at all. The intuition that time is A-theoretic or B-theoretic seems pre-philosophical, whichever intuition you have. This intuition will then shape your subsequent theoretical speculations about time, rather than vice-verse.
Consider, by way of contrast, intuitions about God. People often have a strong pre-theoretical intuition about whether God exists. But it is easy to imagine how someone could form a strong emotional attachment to the existence of God early in life. Can emotional significance explain why people have deeply felt intuitions about time? It seems like the nature of time should be emotionally neutral2.
Now, strong intuitions about emotionally neutral topics aren't so uncommon. For example, we have strong intuitions about how addition behaves for large integers. But usually, it seems, such intuitions are nearly unanimous and can be attributed to our common biological or cultural heritage. Strong disagreeing intuitions about neutral topics seem rarer.
Speaking for myself, the B-theory has always seemed just obviously true. I can't really make coherent sense out of the A-theory. If I had never encountered the A-theory, the idea that time might work like that would not have occurred to me. Nonetheless, at the risk of being rude, I am going to speculate about how A-theorists got that way. (B-theorists, of course, just follow the evidence ;).)
I wonder if the real psycho-philosophical root of the A-theory is the following. If you feel strongly committed to the A-theory, maybe you are being pushed into that position by two conflicting intuitions about your own personal identity.
Intuition 1: On the one hand, you have a notion of personal identity according to which you are just whatever is accessible to your self-awareness right now, plus maybe whatever metaphysical "supporting machinery" allows you to have this kind of self-awareness.
Intuition 2: On the other hand, you feel that you must identify yourself, in some sense, with you-tomorrow. Otherwise, you can give no "rational" account of the particular way in which you care about and feel responsible for this particular tomorrow-person, as opposed to Brittany-Spears-tomorrow, say.
But now you have a problem. It seems that if you take this second intuition seriously, then the first intuition implies that the experiences of you-tomorrow should be accessible to you-now. Obviously, this is not the case. You-tomorrow will have some particular contents of self-awareness, but those contents aren't accessible to you-now. Indeed, entirely different contents completely fill your awareness now — contents which will not be accessible in this direct and immediate way to you-tomorrow.
So, to hold onto both intuitions, you must somehow block the inference made in the previous paragraph. One way to do this is to go through the following sequence:
One potential problem with this psychological explanation is that it doesn't explain the significance of "becoming". Some A-theorists report that a particular basic experience of "becoming" is the immediate reason for their attachment to the A-theory. But the story above doesn't really have anything to do with "becoming", at least not obviously. (This is because I can't make heads or tails of "becoming".)
Second, intuitions about time, even in their primitive pre-reflective state, are intuitions about everything in time. Yet the story above is exclusively about oneself in time. It seems that it would require something more to pass from intuitions about oneself in time to intuitions about how the entire universe is in time.
1 [ETA: In this post, I use the words "A-theory" and "B-theory" as a sloppy shorthand for "presentism" and "eternalism", respectively. The point is that these are theories of ontology ("Does the future exist?"), and not just theories about how we should talk about time. This shouldn't seem like merely a semantic or vacuous dispute unless, as in certain caricatures of logical positivism, you think that the question of whether X exists is always just the question of whether X can be directly experienced.]
2 Some people do seem to be attached to the A-theory because they think that the B-theory takes away their free will by implying that what they will choose is already the case right now. This might explain the emotional significance of the A-theory of time for some people. But many A-theorists are happy to grant, say, that God already knows what they will do. I'm trying to understand those A-theorists who aren't bothered by the implications of the B-theory for free will.