You may have heard of the classic trolley problem in various ethics, philosophy or strategy courses. It goes something like this: you’re walking across a bridge when you see a set of tracks. Five people are bound to the tracks, and a train is barreling straight for them. Miraculously, a lever to change tracks happens to be right beside you. You could flip the lever to divert the train to another track—but there happens to be one person on that track who would be killed. Diverting the train kills the one person; five will perish if you do nothing.
Forget classic attempts to get out of the problem. No, the conductor can’t stop the train. No, none of the people can untie themselves and flee. No, none of the people are evil axe murderers and therefore perhaps more likely to be seen as expendable. No action means the death of five. Action means the death of one.What would you do?
There are a number of ways one might reason through the problem. A utilitarian finds an easy answer—switch the track so the fewest number perish. Others might argue that you as a passerby have no responsibility to change the course of events.
It would be difficult to argue that there exists one right solution to this moral dilemma. But what if the government decreed that you couldn’t flip the track? You legally have to stand there and watch five people die, even though you have the opportunity to save one. Is that a problem?
Regardless of whether you think it more moral to flip the track or leave it be, should the government be able to get involved in such an intimate moral conflict by deciding for you?
Let’s change the scene. Instead of five people, it’s now you bound to the track with a train coming your way. You could use your hand to switch the lever and divert the train to save your life, killing the person bound to the other track.
What do you do?
There are probably some questions you would want to ask before deciding. Who is the person bound to the other track? Are they about to die of natural causes? Are they an axe murderer? A good person? Should any of these answers even matter?
Some might argue that regardless of the identity of the other person, you should not flip the track. Give your life to save another. Others might argue that you have no obligation to the unfortunate soul bound to the other track. Save yourself.
I posit that most people would choose to flip the track in at least some circumstances. For some it might have to be as extreme as the person on the other track is a serial killer mid-cardiac arrest. For others, it might not matter at all who happens to be on the other track; their need for self-preservation comes first. There comes a point when most reasonable people would decide to save themselves. We don’t all operate on a basis of preserving life at any cost.
An added layer: the government has decreed it illegal to flip the track to save yourself. Meaning: you die. Should the government get a say here? What if the person on the other track really is a terminal serial killer? Should the government be able to decide which life is more valuable?
Most people would become apoplectic if the government were vested with the power to decide which life to take. The decision of whether to flip the track may be excruciating and decided in consultation with one’s own beliefs. Government probably should not take away the tough decision of who lives or dies. How could it possibly make a better choice?
Change the scene again. The train is still coming for you and you can still flip the track to kill the other person, saving yourself. However, instead of taking your life, the train would take other things. Perhaps it would be a denial of a college education, or losing your job. You might be thrown out of your family. Exposed to extreme economic hardship. Unable to feed your children. Subjected to severe mental health crises. Do you flip the track to save yourself these burdens, at the expense of the life of another person?
Some might argue that since a life is on the line, you should suffer any burden so that another might live. But how far are you willing to go? What if it meant you could never see your family again because they have ostracized you? How much are you willing to suffer in order to save the life of another? What if the other person is going to die anyway in a matter of weeks? Should you suffer the train’s consequences to spare them for a little longer? What if the other person is in excruciating pain? Does any of it matter?
Most people would likely undergo some kind of mental calculation of how much suffering they are willing to endure in order to save the life of another. Most would probably want to know something about the person who would die from your switching the lever. While you might decide differently, could you really fault another for flipping the track, saving themselves from extreme suffering, or acknowledging that the person on the other track would die soon after being “saved?"
Again, should the government get a say? If you think the government should get a say, how should government draw the line? Flip the switch only if the other person is going to die of natural causes anyway? Or if you would have to endure extreme suffering? How should the government define extreme suffering? Is government really the best body to be vested with this kind of decisional authority?
Now replace the person on the other track with an embryo. Or an unviable fetus (meaning that it cannot survive on its own outside the womb).
For the record, I don’t think that an embryo/fetus is a person. Much like the way butter, sugar and eggs thrown into a bowl and mixed slightly just isn’t a cake. It could be a cake, but it’s not a cake right now. If the choice is my life or the life of an embryo the size of a lentil, it would not be a hard decision for me.
However, even if you consider this embryo/fetus a fully-fledged person with all the rights that conveys, the moral dilemma remains. How much suffering are you willing to force a person to undergo in order to preserve the life of that embryo/fetus? What if the embryo/fetus is going to die anyway?
The pro-life movement likes to make the argument that abortion should be outlawed because embryos/fetuses are people. Therefore, by their calculation, abortion is murder, it’s wrong and it should be outlawed. But this argument neglects the above moral calculus. Sure, flipping the train track to kill another person is murder. But is it wrong to flip the track in all circumstances?
We don’t operate in a world in which we all pursue personal destruction in order to save the life of another, and we certainly don’t live in a world where government forces us to. Your decision may be very different from mine, based on your own experiences, morality and the extent of the suffering you might experience. I will never have enough knowledge about your life to decide whether or not to flip the track for you, nor will you ever know enough to decide for me.
Government will never have enough information either. Rape, or life of the mother? Acceptable; flip the track. But what about an abusive partner? A fifteen-year old girl with no job? What about a cancer patient denied chemotherapy because of her pregnancy? A baby desperately wanted but terminal and in pain? How can a third-party observer possibly draw the line?
For some, the choice will be easy. For others it will be agonizing. But no one is better situated to decide whether or not to pull the lever than the person bound to the tracks with the lever in their hand.
Dana Raphael is a Trinity senior. Her column, "problematic people doing problematic things," runs on alternate Mondays.
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