Take My Identity, Please

My computer, a PC, crashed yet again last week, and as usual I called a computer-savvy friend for help. His first response was, as usual, “Get a Mac.”, but he came over anyway, as usual, to take a look. While he was entering yet another one of my passwords into some program or another, I remarked that he had so much knowledge of our passwords and such that if he were ever down and out, he could always steal my identity and empty my bank account. His reply, “I’d rather steal your identity and buy you a Mac. Then I would give your identity back.”

That got me thinking – not about PC’s versus Macs (I won’t fight that battle here) – but about the concept of altruistic identity theft. Nowadays we hear so much about how to protect ourselves from real identity theft with secure websites, clever passwords, document shredders, etc. But what if you could obtain control of someone’s accounts and get them in order, pay their bills on time, consolidate their debts?

How many times have you wished you could take over someone’s life just for a short time to make that hard but right decision for them (“Break up with him!”; “Quit that job!”; “Stand up for yourself!”) or get them through that tough battle (“I wish I could take the suffering away….”)? Come to think of it, I can think of a few times I wish someone could have taken over for me.

Maybe that’s why I loved that 90’s television show Quantum Leap in which Scott Bakula’s character would “leap” across time into somebody’s life just when they were about to experience a crisis or reach a life-changing turning point. He would have to figure out what step to take so that their life would proceed in a positive way, rather than the negative result history had already recorded. In the show, the featured characters got a second chance, but with altruistic identity theft, you wouldn’t need one.

Imagine if you were struggling with a parenting dilemma. Rather than having to be patient and persistent, react consistently, and enforce consequences, you could call Supernanny Jo Frost in, not to teach you, but to actually become you and suffer through the enforcing of that timeout. In another example, your identity could be stolen by that other mom, mother-in-law, sibling, friend, or acquaintance that always claims to know how to do it better, and they could see what would really happen. Maybe they would get more of an education than you would, for the benefit of your future relationship.

Many of us have had those moments watching a boss or colleague tiptoeing around an issue with a client or supervisor. With altruistic identity theft, you could provide the assertiveness your colleague lacks to point out an unrealistic budget or deadline, or get them that well-deserved raise.

You could call in a handyman to finish all those half-started projects by your spouse (male or female) who’s dedicated to the do-it-yourself concept but doesn’t have the do-it-yourself skills. Or tell off the partner of the friend (male or female) with the soft heart that keeps forgiving at their own expense.

Unfortunately, altruistic identity theft would only last during the timespan of the takeover. It could not lead to permanent habit or personality change. So even if you became your child for a day and cleaned his room, you couldn’t implant organizational skills or even the desire to be clean. Bummer.

With such a temporary result, it is likely that most of the problems would resurface. We would probably have to learn to be patient, consistent, and consequence-enforcing parents if we wanted to see a change in our kids. The do-it-yourselfer would find new projects to leave half-finished, the soft-hearted friend would find another ne’er-do-well to support, the passive colleague would stress out about another tight deadline. But maybe some one-time crises could be solved.

At least my friend can rest easy. His job is done. We got a Mac.