Guy Reams (00:01.272)
This is day 256, the trolley problem.
I was presented with a classic moral dilemma recently. I was talking to a young entrepreneur who had a wild-eyed fascination with a new potential product idea. The idea itself isn't important, but the dilemma I faced during that discussion is what I want to explore. It seemed to me that we all face these types of ethical considerations more frequently than we realize, and often we don't stop to measure our response in any meaningful way.
In this case, the young man believed he had an idea that could benefit society. He was so convinced that he planned to quit his job and dedicate all his time and energy to building this new idea. Now, I happened to know the topic area quite well, much better than he did. Having several more years of experience, I was convinced that his idea was deeply flawed and would ultimately fail. Once he encountered a few things I had already discovered along the hard way.
My initial reaction was to tell him so, hoping to help him avoid a painful failure. But as I looked into his excited expression, I hesitated. This young man had so much passion and enthusiasm that even though this particular idea seemed doomed, I believed that he would inevitably uncover something greater. Perhaps even something that would impact millions of lives. So what should I do? Crush his spirit with hard-earned truth? Or encourage him
to march towards what I believe to be inevitable failure. The Mentor's Dilemma. This is a common ethical conflict sometimes called the Mentor's Dilemma. It's a timeless tension between guiding and interfering. When should you protect someone from failure and when should you let them walk their own path, mistakes and all? You might remember Star Trek. They had a very similar dilemma constantly.
Guy Reams (02:01.687)
Some argue the mentor has no right to make this decision for someone else, that the true ethical problem is the mentor's arrogance, the assumption that they know best. Still, most of us feel a responsibility to help, to guide, to share what we've learned. It's the Captain Kirk who couldn't help himself. That's why this is best examined using frameworks from moral philosophy, like the doctrine of double effect.
which can help us make sense of situations like this. Truth, harm, and the doctrine of double effect. The doctrine of double effect raises this question. Is it morally permissible to withhold truth, a potential harm, if your intention is to preserve hope and encourage growth, thus a greater good? The classic Kantian answer is the following.
You have a duty to tell the truth, regardless of the consequences. The utilitarian perspective, by contrast, would say something like, let him pursue it. If the journey leads him to something meaningful, that's the better outcome. Most of us prefer a third way, sort of a middle path. Instead of killing the dream, we shape it. We ask thoughtful questions that invite self-discovery. We challenge gently. We lead without control.
That's what I ultimately tried to do. It allowed me to honor my responsibility to guide without extinguishing the passion that might turn out to be far more valuable than the idea itself.
But enter the trolley problem. This approach brings with it another immoral puzzle. The doctrine of double effect forces a distinction between direct harm and foreseen but unintended harm. This creates room for a middle path, but also raises this important question, where is the line? So enter Philippa Foote, the British philosopher who challenged the adequacy of the doctrine of double effect.
Guy Reams (04:07.304)
her 1967 paper, The Problem of Abortion and the Doctrine of the Double Effect. Foote wasn't writing to advocate for or against abortion. Instead, she used the abortion debate to demonstrate how fragile and inconsistent this doctrine of double effect could be when applied to real-life ethical dilemma. In doing so, she introduced what has become one of the most widely known thought experiments in ethics, the trolley problem.
The classic trolley problem is like the following. Here's the scenario. A trolley is hurtling down a track. Ahead, five people are tied to the rails and cannot move. You are standing next to a lever. If you pull the lever, the trolley will switch to a sidetrack. But on that track, one person is tied up. Do you pull the lever, killing one person to save the five? This scenario distills two core ethical frameworks.
First, utilitarianism, consequentialism. Morality is judged only by outcomes in this philosophy. Pulling the lever is morally right because it minimizes harm. One death instead of five. This is the greatest good for the greatest number. The other argument would be the deontology argument. Morality is judged by principle, regardless of outcomes.
Pulling the lever is morally wrong because it involves the deliberate killing of one person. We must never use others merely as a means to an end. So I can reframe my dilemma. So, you know, using the trolley problem, it can help me reframe my own situation. From a utilitarian view, the choice is clear and very convenient. Don't tell the young entrepreneur anything. His passion energy may one day help people.
One failed idea is a small price to pay. However, from a deontological view, the choice is also clear but very different. Tell him the truth, you owe him honesty, even if it leads to discouragement. But Foote's true insight and the reason her work helped me is even more subtle than that. She pointed out that in moral decision, it matters not what just happens, but how and why it happens. Especially she stressed the difference between
Guy Reams (06:31.82)
what we directly do or intend, and what we merely allow to happen or foresee but not intend. With this in mind, I could reframe my role. I could pull the lever. Basically tell him the truth. I cause short-term harm, crushed hope, to prevent what I see as a greater harm, failure. Or I could not pull the lever. Let him continue. I allow him to risk failure, trusting that he might learn, grow, and then redirect.
Foote's framework doesn't give me the answer, but it gives me a lens, a clear way to weigh my influence and my responsibility. So I can practice for the crossroad. Using this ethical lens, I began asking better questions. Am I certain enough of the outcome to justify intervening? Is my moral duty to reduce harm or is it to honor autonomy?
Can I speak truth in a way that nurtures passion and not extinguishes it? That's what makes the trolley problem so powerful. It doesn't just challenge how we think, it shapes how we respond when real people are on the tracks, metaphorically speaking, of course. So, let's talk about the real moment. Of course, I didn't think all this through in the actual moment.
When was talking to that young entrepreneur brimming with passion and possibility, I didn't stop the way the Kantian ethics or simulate the trolley problem in my head. just simply responded like anybody would, but I didn't respond with cynicism or superiority. asked questions. I listened. I offered ideas to consider. I let him reach his own conclusions. And now reflecting on it later, I realized I was able to do that not because I had perfect wisdom in the moment,
but because I had practiced ahead of time. I had already sat with the discomfort of moral complexity. I had rehearsed this exact dilemma in quieter moments with philosophers like Philippa, but as my guide. I had already asked myself similar questions. Is it better to speak a difficult truth if it risks extinguishing someone's spark?
Guy Reams (08:51.919)
Or better to let them walk into failure that might ultimately shape them into who they are meant to become? I dealt with these questions when raising my own children. Why moral philosophy actually matters to us? These moments of ethical clarity don't arrive fully formed in your mind. They are rehearsed, internally, quietly, and ahead of time. And so when we find ourselves unexpectedly at a moral crossroads standing beside someone with their dreams on the line,
We can respond not with panic or with power, but with practiced compassion. That, I believe, is the true value of moral philosophy and paying attention to it. It doesn't just make us better thinkers, it makes us better companions on the journey of life.