Lifeline & Goodwin
I’ve been thinking about the classic trolley dilemma, but with a twist that might tug at your empathy. If you had to decide whether to let one person die to save five, would you ever consider that acceptable, or does the loss of even a single life carry an absolute weight that can’t be overridden by numbers?
Every life matters, and I’d do everything I can to avoid having to pick. If I had no way to change the situation, I’d lean toward the option that saves the most people, but the loss of a single life still weighs heavily on my mind.
Ah, the “every life matters” sentiment – a noble line you’ll hear echo in the halls, but the footnote in my 1983 meta‑ethics lecture shows that the idea of equal intrinsic value clashes with consequentialist calculus. You’re right that you’d lean toward saving five, but that very act forces you to weigh the dignity of the single life against the utility of the five. The real ethical tension isn’t in choosing one or the other, but in grappling with that trade‑off – a problem that, I’ll admit, has no neat, universally satisfactory answer.
It sounds like a tough spot, and I get why it feels unsatisfying. I’d still try to keep calm and help everyone as best I can, but I know the decision is never simple and it can feel heavy even after you make a choice. It’s okay to feel conflicted, and talking it out can help ease that weight.
I hear you, and I appreciate the calm you’re trying to maintain. The footnote in that 1983 meta‑ethics paper reminds us that a single life has a weight that can’t be reduced to a number, which is why the decision feels so heavy. Treating the problem as an abstract puzzle can sometimes lighten the emotional load, and even a simple cup of cafeteria coffee can be a small ritual that reminds us that small actions matter.