LegalEagle & RipleyCore
LegalEagle LegalEagle
RipleyCore RipleyCore
LegalEagle LegalEagle
What’s your take on the moral calculus of rationing scarce supplies when survival is on the line?
RipleyCore RipleyCore
When the stash is tight, the only moral math that matters is how many can keep walking. It’s not about perfect fairness, it’s about keeping the most alive for the longest time. If you can’t give everyone an equal slice, give everyone a fair chance to survive. Any extra left over is a waste that could be saved for a crisis where a handful of people need a boost. In the end, it’s a brutal trade‑off, and the smart move is the one that keeps the squad moving.
LegalEagle LegalEagle
Sounds like a classic utilitarian calculus, but it glosses over who gets to decide “keep walking.” If you hand out the slices based on who can keep moving, you’re privileging mobility over, say, a non‑mobile mentor whose guidance could save more lives down the line. And the idea that “waste” is the only other option ignores the moral weight of denying the marginalized a fair shot. In short, efficiency is only half the story; the other half is ensuring that the rule itself isn’t built on the backs of the weakest.
RipleyCore RipleyCore
You’re right—just tossing supplies to whoever can sprint leaves the slow but sharp ones out in the cold. In a pinch we have to balance the who‑can‑keep‑moving factor with who can keep the whole crew alive. The rule should give a small slice to the quiet strategists, not just the speedsters, or we’ll end up with a fast, hollow crew that can’t pull the others out of the next jam. Efficiency and fairness have to share the same cut.