A Glimpse of Who I Am, or Why I Can't Make a Choice - LJ Idol, Season 10, Week 9
"I'm going to have to look up what this prompt means," I told my husband as soon as I read it.
"Why? What is it?"
"The Trolly Problem"
I had to admit that I'd never heard the phrase before. And from the time he explained that it involved the difficulty of deciding the value of one life versus the lives of many, the problem has been percolating in my brain. Because even now, several days of thought later, I have no idea how I would choose.
Part of it is my difficulty in thinking of things in generalities. A part of me is always tuning over the "What if"s... like, "What if the one person on the track was someone that I love?" or "What if one of the group on the main track is someone that I despised, or someone that has hurt so many others?" I just can't simplify my thinking down to an either/or without the other possibilities intruding.
Another part is my honest belief that the needs of the many do NOT necessarily outweigh the needs of the one (or the few). Because everyone matters to at least one person, and that loss would be felt so deeply by those left behind, that it makes every life lost as important as any other. The lives of complete strangers half a world away are important, but not not as important as the life of the child I've raised in this world. I would venture that the same could be said of one person when it was a choice of the life of their child and my family.
The most important part, though, is my natural empathy. I have a tendency to put myself in in the shoes of others without meaning to. I imagine what they are feeling and having those feelings affect me deeply. I was living in New York City in September of 2001, and those last months were the hardest I've ever lived through. Every day, I had to walk through Penn Station, ever surface covered with posters of the missing and presumed dead. I spent much of the time in those months trying hard not to cry as I wondered about the lives those in the pictures had lead before that day, as well as the pain that their families were going through. I cried as much, though not for as long, as I watched Owen and Tosh die in Torchwood, or Amy and Rory disappearing into the past in Doctor Who. Fact or fiction, I have a tendency to immerse myself in the world around me, especially when the world is full of sorrow.
So if I were faced with a trolly heading toward a group too far away for me to hear, and I could divert it to hit only one person, it would probably hit the group. Not because they are less important, but because I would be paralyzed with indecision as I try to find any way that I can save them all.
"Why? What is it?"
"The Trolly Problem"
I had to admit that I'd never heard the phrase before. And from the time he explained that it involved the difficulty of deciding the value of one life versus the lives of many, the problem has been percolating in my brain. Because even now, several days of thought later, I have no idea how I would choose.
Part of it is my difficulty in thinking of things in generalities. A part of me is always tuning over the "What if"s... like, "What if the one person on the track was someone that I love?" or "What if one of the group on the main track is someone that I despised, or someone that has hurt so many others?" I just can't simplify my thinking down to an either/or without the other possibilities intruding.
Another part is my honest belief that the needs of the many do NOT necessarily outweigh the needs of the one (or the few). Because everyone matters to at least one person, and that loss would be felt so deeply by those left behind, that it makes every life lost as important as any other. The lives of complete strangers half a world away are important, but not not as important as the life of the child I've raised in this world. I would venture that the same could be said of one person when it was a choice of the life of their child and my family.
The most important part, though, is my natural empathy. I have a tendency to put myself in in the shoes of others without meaning to. I imagine what they are feeling and having those feelings affect me deeply. I was living in New York City in September of 2001, and those last months were the hardest I've ever lived through. Every day, I had to walk through Penn Station, ever surface covered with posters of the missing and presumed dead. I spent much of the time in those months trying hard not to cry as I wondered about the lives those in the pictures had lead before that day, as well as the pain that their families were going through. I cried as much, though not for as long, as I watched Owen and Tosh die in Torchwood, or Amy and Rory disappearing into the past in Doctor Who. Fact or fiction, I have a tendency to immerse myself in the world around me, especially when the world is full of sorrow.
So if I were faced with a trolly heading toward a group too far away for me to hear, and I could divert it to hit only one person, it would probably hit the group. Not because they are less important, but because I would be paralyzed with indecision as I try to find any way that I can save them all.