The Runaway Trolley

One of the most famous thought experiments in ethics is "the runaway trolley". It aims to clarify how we should distinguish right from wrong. I have read it before and heard it before, but here is how it is presented on the BBC's website. Read the experiments and then weigh in with your opinion.

Here is the scenario:A runaway trolley car is hurtling down a track. In its path are five people who will definitely be killed unless you, a bystander, flip a switch which will divert it on to another track, where it will kill one person. Should you flip the switch?

Now here's another version of the problem--with a twist:
The runaway trolley car is hurtling down a track where it will kill five people. You are standing on a bridge above the track and, aware of the imminent disaster, you decide to jump on the track to block the trolley car. Although you will die, the five people will be saved. Do you jump?

Now here's yet another version--with (of course) a twist:
Right before your leap, you realise that you are too light to stop the trolley. Next to you, a fat man is standing on the very edge of the bridge. He would certainly block the trolley, although he would undoubtedly die from the impact. A small nudge and he would fall right onto the track below. No one would ever know. Should you push him?

Most people would choose to flip the switch in the first trolley case, but most of us would also be appalled at the idea of pushing the fat man.

The philosophical puzzle is this: Why is it acceptable to more people to sacrifice the one person in The Runaway Trolley Car but not in The Fat Man case? What's the difference? Is there a difference? Why? Why not? What are some of the core questions being asked here--and what can we say about them?

Philosophical Film

Our study of The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance suggests that philosophers aren't the only people interested in philosophical issues. Can you think of another film that (upon a second or third viewing) explores some deeper philosophical issues? Identify the film and the issues it explores.

And the winner is....

A friend of mine (call him Bill) recently won a number of CDs from a radio contest.They were sent to his house; upon receiving them, he realized that hereally didn't like any of the bands or performers.

The next day, he took the CDs (still in their shrink wrapping) to a store and "returned" them. (He said he had lost the receipt.) The storeclerk scanned the barcodes and then gave Bill $90 in store credit, which he then used to get a bunch of new CDs.

When he told me this, I was appalled and told him that what he did was unethical. John said that it wasn't unethical because the store "tookback" merchandise which it would then sell. I said that his "returning" the CDs to the store would throw off the accounting; he said it wouldn't.Finally, I said that even if there were no financial harm done to the store,what he did was still pretty low.

What do you think?

When in Rome...

In his work Questions of Value, the philosopher Patrick Grim poses this challenge:

An old adage says, "When in Rome, do as the Romans do."

From your own experience, draw some examples of when that might be good advice and when it might not.

Respond to Grim's prompt and also ask what your examples suggest about ethics and ethical behavior. Can any ethical insights be gained from your examples?

The Professor and the Puppy

This is adapted from Martin Cohen’s 101 Philosophy Problems:

A professor (of philosophy—what else?) is sitting in his office reading Aristotle. But when he looks up from his book and sees the time, he exclaims, “Oh no! I’m going to be late for class!” He runs out the door. As he hurries across campus, he stops because he hears a whining sound coming from somewhere.

The professor follows the sound and realizes that there is a puppy in the middle of the campus pond—so he wades into the water and saves it. Then he goes back to his office, changes his clothes (he keeps spares for just such an occasion) and then runs back to his classroom.

Naturally, his students are very irritated. But the professor explains what happened and all the students change their tunes. “It was a real exercise in applied ethics,” says the professor. “Did I do the right thing?” Everyone laughs, says, “Of course,” and the class begins (although far past its planned starting time).

Next week, on his way to the same class, the professor sees the same dog—again it’s stuck in the pond and, again, the professor wades in to save it. He is late for class (again), but this time the students are not so understanding. Half of them say that the dog should have been left to its own devices (especially in light of what the students are paying for tuition).

The following week—you guessed it—there’s the dog again, whining and distressed, struggling to get out of the pond. “Oh no,” says the professor. “I can’t be late again!” He leaves the dog whimpering and reports the situation to a custodian before beginning his class. He tells his students what happened, who largely agree that the risk to the dog is outweighed by the certain knowledge of the inconvenience (and financial waste) that the professor’s tardiness is causing them. “And this,” says the professor, “is exactly what ethical decision-making is all about.”

Alas—by the time the custodian reaches the pond, the dog has drowned.

Was there a flaw in the professor and the class’s reasoning—or is the dog just plain unlucky? Try to examine the core of the ethical situation at hand.