I don't see how either or both options you've presented change the point in any way; if politicians claim to agree on X until you agree to vote for them, then turn out to revert to their personal preference once you've already voted for them, then while you may know they're mutable or a best-effort-compromise, you've still agreed with a politician and voted for them on the basis of X, which they now no longer hold.

That they are known to have mutable stances or be prone to hidden agendas only makes this tactic more visible, but also more popular, and by selection effects makes the more dangerous instances of this even more subtle and, well, dangerous.

As a freshman in college, I feel I am 'supposed to like' beer and parties. I don't. I like Cuba Libres, and relaxing in the dorm with floor-mates, but that's beside the point. As an avid reader, I feel I am 'supposed to like' the accepted classics of literature (Mrs. Dalloway, Ulysses, etc.), but I don't. I generally consume pulp fantasy and thrillers, despite being perfectly capable of reading said classics. I liked the Great Gatsby, Les Miserables, and Dracula, but that's beside the point.

In my opinion, when you feel you're supposed to like something, it's because a group of people with whom you strongly identify (lovers of Beethoven's music) like that thing, and you've adopted that group as a sort of label for yourself. It's easier to say "I am an aficionado of classical music" than "I like classical music of many types, in particular Canons, I love Chopin's nocturnes, I appreciate..." and thus one gets the feeling of "My feelings should more closely tie in with those my label would indicate."

We sometimes see the same thing with political parties.

Claim to agree with them on issue X, then once they've committed to supporting you, change your position on issue X.

Come to think of it, politicians already do this.

I was under the impression that the converse of p then q was q then p.

Yes and that's what nshepperd wrote.

"If you lack a thousand-year-old brain that can make trillion-year plans, it's because dying after a billion years doesn't sound sad to you."

I think meaning it's unfortunate that thinking that dying after a billion years is sad doesn't by itself give you the power to live that long. Maybe.

If dying after a billion years doesn't sound sad to you, it's because you lack a thousand-year-old brain that can make trillion-year plans.

If only the converse were true...

Among other things, you would suffocate due to that four-minute no-breathing-allowed Martian word in paragraph nine.

In the likely event that it's impossible for you to read the scroll perfectly, it's true for all X that "X would happen if you read this scroll perfectly". Which means that anything the genie feels like doing satisfies that wish. Or possibly the genie has to make everything happen that could possibly happen. Neither of those seems like a good outcome.

That response may be technically true (you don't acknowledge the relevance of the argument,) but I don't think it's usually appropriate, since the idea that something falling into a negative category could be irrelevant probably falls across a gap of inferential distance for your interlocutor. If they already got it, they probably wouldn't have made the argument in the first place.

All of the nouns named on the scroll appear. Some of them are things that the wording of the scroll expressly insists that the wish must avoid, due to their being lethal or otherwise undesirable.