he altruistic answer is yes. Studies have found that humans of all cultures possess this altruistic trait.
Philosophically, though, we’re faced with questions in this situation.
Is your life worth more than someone else’s? Is theirs worth more than yours?
Who should decide such things? Do we personally have the right to decide?
They’re not easy questions. Remember, our “life” affects the people around us, the people who love us, the people who rely upon us, the people who sacrificed for us . . . we’re not individual actors in this show.
When I was younger, single with no kids and just cruising through life . . . the wife of a friend was dying of a rare cancer. They had two small children who were going to grow up without their mother. And frankly, their dad was a pretty emotionally distant guy. If I could have swapped with this young mother, I would have, because the math worked out. One life (okay, I’d make my mom sad) in return for one plus two good childhoods, and maybe two lives without nasty abandonment-related issues they may pass on to their kids. Seems like a winner. Maybe.
That last question — should we decide this ourselves — raises an issue about individualism and the self. Deciding to “save” someone appears to be selfless. Yet the action is saying that I, myself, am so important that I get to decide whether to alter someone’s destiny, or god’s will, or what have you. Whenever the I-Me-Mine is part of an action, beware. What seems right is often wrong in the long run.
How do we know this saved life won’t just become a death another year from now? Or that the saved won’t squander their life, or wind up doing more damage than you would have?
So we’re trading a moderate amount of certainty — our self-determination — for a gamble that the saved life will somehow be as good or better than another’s.
To make a gamble worthwhile, there should be a reward possible. Gambling a life should carry a very big possible reward, or avoid something really bad. That’s why Secret Service guys will take a bullet for a president.
It’s like the end of that movie Saving Private Ryan, when Tom Hanks tells Matt Damon to make the sacrifice of Tom’s unit count. Somebody, sometime, sacrificed so that you can live. Do you have the right to gamble that away, saving someone and betting that they’ll do better with their life than you’ll do with yours?
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Answer:
he altruistic answer is yes. Studies have found that humans of all cultures possess this altruistic trait.
Philosophically, though, we’re faced with questions in this situation.
Is your life worth more than someone else’s? Is theirs worth more than yours?
Who should decide such things? Do we personally have the right to decide?
They’re not easy questions. Remember, our “life” affects the people around us, the people who love us, the people who rely upon us, the people who sacrificed for us . . . we’re not individual actors in this show.
When I was younger, single with no kids and just cruising through life . . . the wife of a friend was dying of a rare cancer. They had two small children who were going to grow up without their mother. And frankly, their dad was a pretty emotionally distant guy. If I could have swapped with this young mother, I would have, because the math worked out. One life (okay, I’d make my mom sad) in return for one plus two good childhoods, and maybe two lives without nasty abandonment-related issues they may pass on to their kids. Seems like a winner. Maybe.
That last question — should we decide this ourselves — raises an issue about individualism and the self. Deciding to “save” someone appears to be selfless. Yet the action is saying that I, myself, am so important that I get to decide whether to alter someone’s destiny, or god’s will, or what have you. Whenever the I-Me-Mine is part of an action, beware. What seems right is often wrong in the long run.
How do we know this saved life won’t just become a death another year from now? Or that the saved won’t squander their life, or wind up doing more damage than you would have?
So we’re trading a moderate amount of certainty — our self-determination — for a gamble that the saved life will somehow be as good or better than another’s.
To make a gamble worthwhile, there should be a reward possible. Gambling a life should carry a very big possible reward, or avoid something really bad. That’s why Secret Service guys will take a bullet for a president.
It’s like the end of that movie Saving Private Ryan, when Tom Hanks tells Matt Damon to make the sacrifice of Tom’s unit count. Somebody, sometime, sacrificed so that you can live. Do you have the right to gamble that away, saving someone and betting that they’ll do better with their life than you’ll do with yours?
Explanation: