ماذا لو امتلكت سلطة الموت؟ │ في الحضارة

You may have heard of the train dilemma, which, in short, goes like this: Imagine a speeding train traveling on the tracks, and in its path, there's a group of five people it's about to run over. The good news is that the train has an alternate track. If someone pulls the switch, it will change course and run over only one person sleeping

on the alternate track. The dilemma poses the question: Which decision is the right one? Do we save five people at the cost of sacrificing one? That might be the numerically correct decision with the fewest losses. Or do we let fate carry out its original plan and not become its killers? But let me tell you something

bad: you're not the one sitting by the switch; you're the one sleeping on the tracks, either alone or in the group, just waiting in resignation for someone to decide the value of your life compared to others on a sheet of data and numbers that recognizes only statistics. Your life becomes a number in a column. We won't consider your struggles, we won't consider

your dreams, we won't consider the inspiring idea that might occur to you. After a few years, my friend, we are all asleep on the rails, no matter what dilemmas or problems philosophers and thinkers imagine, no matter how much they delude us into thinking we are the decision-makers. Neither you nor I decide the

value of life; we simply lie waiting for the hand that decides.

About 2400 years ago, in the Republic, Glaucon, Plato's brother, tells Socrates a very strange story: A simple shepherd, neither king nor leader, was standing with his flock when suddenly the ground split open beneath him. The man descended into the crack and found a huge bronze horse, like the Trojan Horse. The horse was