By: Hayley Strahs

Editor-in-Chief

Think fast! You are conducting an out-of-control trolley barrelling towards six people. But wait, you have the option to divert the trolley onto a different track, with only one person on it instead of six. Do you pull the lever and switch the track, saving some people while consciously hitting another? Or do you let the trolley continue on its path and watch as it crashes into an unsuspecting group of people? The trolley problem is a dark, yet age-old philosophical question that explores fault and the value of a human life. Saving six people at the expense of one seems like an obvious answer, but what if the sacrificed person were a loved one? What if they were a bad person? What if they were a landlord or a celebrity? 

As you can see, the trolley problem is no simple dilemma. In fact, some would argue that it’s too dark and pessimistic to reference in the humor section of a high school newspaper. Here, we encounter yet another variation of the previously stated ethical quandary. Does El Gato News a) allow me to write and publish this semi-risky piece with political undertones, or b) divert the journalistic trolley by requesting that I reconsider my controversial topic of choice? Of course, I love El Gato and would happily rewrite my article if necessary. After all, this is a newspaper, and I need to maintain a sense of professionalism and a positive digital footprint. Perplexities such as these complicate the trolley problem by adding a myriad of possibilities, or “tracks” that the outcome of the situation might take. But let’s not stop at more tracks. How about more trolleys? More people? Imagine a version of the trolley problem where the trolleys are barrelling towards other trolleys! What would you do in that situation? Checkmate.

On a brighter (and less concerning to future employers) note, I have decided to modernize the trolley problem by turning it into something more relatable and less life-threatening. You are in math class, and the absolute maximum value of a function happens to be 67. Do you: a) say nothing and let a part of your inner child wither away in agony or b) giggle and out yourself as chronically online? 67 already peaked in popularity, so laughing at it will probably seem cringe and have permanent consequences for your reputation. Personally, I’m still trying to recover from the jokes I made in sixth (or maybe seventh) grade, and my social life really can’t afford another hit. Conversely, why deny yourself the happiness of oscillating your hands up and down with numerical joy? By ignoring the 67 joke, you ignore your inner child, who can’t be more than six or seven years old.

No option is ever perfect. Whether it’s a human life (or six) or a nerve-wracking move to a new city, there isn’t always a right answer to every question. After all, haters never back down, no matter what you do and no matter how you navigate a fast-moving vehicle in a hypothetical life-or-death situation. Grab Plato by the horns and take this overanalyzed abstraction with an eight-wheeled grain of salt. Do whatever you need to snap out of this philosophical question mind prison. Hint: a trolley to the face usually does the trick.