A runaway streetcar is heading down the tracks. If it remains on its course it will hit, and kill, five people tied to the tracks. Using their bodies to slow itself to a halt.

Beside you is a lever. Pulling this lever will switch the streetcar to a side track where it will kill just one person on the track, before coming to a halt against the buffer at the end of the siding.

Seems like an easy enough choice. Switch the track, one person dies, everybody’s happy.

Let’s change it up.

Another runaway streetcar is heading down the tracks. On the streetcar are 30 passengers, all screaming hysterically. If it remains on its course it will hit, and kill, five people tied to the tracks. Using their bodies to slow itself to a halt. But all the passengers will be unharmed.

Beside you is a lever. Pulling this lever will switch the streetcar to a side track, where it will kill just one person on the track before coming to a halt against the buffer at the end of the siding. The sudden stop will cause all 30 passengers to suffer permanent, life changing, injuries. But none of the passengers will die.

Still easy? Suddenly there are complications, but this moral conundrum remains binary in concept.

What if there was a third choice?

Yet another runaway streetcar is heading down the tracks. On the streetcar are 30 passengers, all screaming, crying and praying. If it remains on its course it will hit, and kill, five people tied to the tracks. Using their bodies to slow itself to a halt in a spectacle of gushing blood and spewing entrails. But all the passengers will be unharmed.

Beside you is a lever. Pulling this lever will switch the streetcar to a side track where it will kill just one person on the track, before coming to a halt against the buffer at the end of the siding. The one person will be mashed against the buffer so hard their head pops clean off, and the sudden stop will cause all 30 passengers to suffer permanent, life changing, injuries. But none of the passengers will die.

In front of you is a fat person. Apparently, pushing them in front of twenty metric tonnes of out-of-control streetcar will derail it, and the runaway trolley will slither to a halt in to the front wall of an ice cream parlour. The passengers will be unharmed and the fat person will also be unharmed, albeit sore and ticked off.

But a small child will have been crushed to death between the streetcar and wall of the parlour.

Ethical dilemmas are never as simple and easily tidied up as we would like. In a universe of infinite complexity there will always be those little wrinkles that make morality, complicated. Filtering the trolley problem through the lens of modern society leads to more questions than answers.

Who is liable for this mess? Why was the streetcar out of control? What happened to the driver? Did they have any underlying medical issues they hadn’t told their employer about? When was the last time they were assessed by occupational health? Was there a mechanical issue? Where are the inspection records? What, if any, maintenance has recently been carried out?

Who is this mystery person who saw the whole thing? Why didn’t they do anything? Why didn’t they pull the lever? Why didn’t they push the fat person? Or, if they did either of these things, what gives them the right to do so? Are they guilty of a crime in this instance? Can they be sued?

Has everybody involved received proper, and up to date, health and safety training?

The real answer to this riddle lies in the modern corporate ethos.

Reduce liabilities, keep corporate insurance premiums down, increase shareholder value, and ensure that executive responsibility is kept to a minimum. 

What is the least bad, and least expensive option?

ALL HAIL THE SHAREHOLDER!