Position changes get discussed as though they were a matter of willingness. A player is told to move, he either buys in or he does not, and the outcome follows from his attitude. The actual pattern is far less about character and almost entirely about how much of the old job transfers to the new one.
Look at what actually succeeds. Charles Woodson shifted from cornerback to safety late in his career and produced ten interceptions across his final three seasons. Offensive linemen move between tackle, guard and center routinely enough that teams now draft with the switch already planned.
Those are not conversions. They are adjustments inside a craft the player already owns. A corner moving to safety stays in the same meeting room, the same coverage language, the same film. A guard moving to tackle is doing a harder version of a job he has done for a decade.

Front offices describe this as taking the label off the position, evaluating the traits instead and asking whether a specific player can slide. That framing only works where the underlying skill is shared.
Now look at the other direction. College quarterbacks converting to receiver is the most common attempted switch in football, and the honest summary is that it usually produces limited results. Julian Edelman and Antwaan Randle El are cited constantly precisely because the list of successes is short enough to recite.
Even a small adjustment is harder than it sounds. Guards have described moving from the left side to the right as genuinely disorienting, a matter of retrained body mechanics rather than knowledge. That is the same position, same room, same coach, opposite hand. Now scale that to asking a quarterback to learn route running against NFL corners.
Moving across the ball is rarer still. Quarterbacks who switched to defense are close to nonexistent, and the handful who made rosters mostly did it on special teams.
Teams making these bets are not projecting from tape, because the tape for the new position does not exist. Pete Carroll has described the process as digging into what a player played in youth football and looking for a general knack for the game, then taking a shot in the dark. The candor is unusual and accurate. There is no analytical method here.
What they look for is a narrow list: athletic traits that fit the new position, enough football instinct to learn fast, and genuine commitment rather than compliance. That third one is where the character explanation has some truth, though it is necessary rather than sufficient.
Time is the thing that gets underestimated. A player switching positions is starting a learning curve that his peers finished years ago, while competing against people who never had to restart. He is also usually doing it under a deadline, because teams that move a player have typically run out of patience with the original plan.
Which is why the most promising version of a positional move is a player going toward a position he has already played, rather than one he has only been assigned. When a young player is projected to take a leap because of a role change, the question worth asking about any breakout projection built on a move is how much of the new job he has already done. If the answer is most of it, the projection is reasonable. If the answer is none of it, sixty years of attempts suggest patience.