What’s the right thing to do?

Luttrell believes that military leaders must protect their soldiers even if this requires the murder of non-combatants. McNab thinks that there are some things you must never do, whatever the consequences. Who is right?

To answer this question, philosopher, Philippa Foot, devised a thought experiment. The brakes of a tram (trolley) have suddenly failed. Ahead are five people working on the tracks. To avoid killing them, the driver could switch the runaway tram to a branch line, where only one worker on the tracks would be killed. When asked what they would do if they were the driver, practically everyone says they would re-route the tram. They rationalise their decision on utilitarian grounds-one person dead is a better outcome than five dead.

Now imagine there is no branch line, and you are standing on a bridge watching the tram hurtle toward five workers. Alongside you is a big heavy man. If you push him off the bridge, he will land on the track and die when hit by the tram. But he is big enough to stop the tram and save the workers. Would you push the man off the bridge? The consequences are the same as the tram driver's switch to a branch line-five lives saved at the cost of one. Yet, almost everyone says they would not deliberately kill someone to save five others.

It seems that people employ different ethical criteria in the two situations. A utilitarian calculus (five lives versus one) justifies the tram driver diverting to the branch track. On the other hand, pushing someone to his death violates a firmly held moral principle-thou shalt not kill. It seems outcomes are not the only thing that counts when deciding whether an action is right or wrong.

Few of us will ever have to make life-and-death choices such as those faced by McNab and Luttrell. But, our political leaders and health services often deal with life-threatening issues. Confronted with Covid-19, most governments adopted a utilitarian stance. They tried to protect as many people as possible from infection using lockdowns, border closures, curfews, and social distancing rules. At the same time, governments abandoned highly regarded virtues such as compassion, charity and mercy. Relatives were prevented from attending funerals, separated family members could not unite, and businesses were ruined.

As a basis for determining whether an act is good, utilitarianism is not perfect, but deontological ethics are not flawless either. Okonkwo, the protagonist of Chinua Achebe's famous novel, Things Fall Apart, is a natural leader. But, he has a fatal flaw. Okonkwo blindly adheres to traditional moral precepts. Because of his unbending and rigid morals, Okonkwo brings devastation to his village and death to himself.

As a principle, truthfulness is highly prized. George Washington famously confessed to chopping down a cherry tree. He took the punishment rather than lie. But, from a practical viewpoint, insisting on truthfulness may not always lead to the greatest good. Early in the Covid-19 pandemic, public health officials minimised the need for the public to wear face masks. They had only a small supply and wanted to use their masks to protect health workers. When more masks became available, the health officials changed their story.

We all must find a way to live with the consequences of our choices. Marcus Luttrell visited the home of every soldier who died because of his casting vote in Afghanistan. He wanted to personally apologise to the families for his "lame" decision. Think about your own critical decisions. Did you think through the consequences or did you prefer to rely on moral rules and traditions? Perhaps you used both. Where did you find the wisdom to make your choice?

According to Confucius, there are three ways to gain wisdom-reflection, imitation, and experience-the bitterest way to learn (ask Marcus Luttrell). Confucius may not have realised it, but his three routes to wisdom constitute an ideal basis for a university curriculum.

Let's begin with reflection. Every graduate should be familiar with the different paths to wisdom. This requires a broad liberal education that exposes every student to science, the humanities, and other branches of knowledge. Such a comprehensive liberal education is the norm in elite American universities but rare in other countries.

Capstone courses-final year subjects in which students get the opportunity to tie together the theoretical and practical sides of what they have learned-are a particularly valuable method for teaching wisdom. These courses allow students to apply their learning to real-life issues about which well-meaning people hold very different views.

I taught such a course. We began by considering the vexed issue of admission to elite universities. Applicants from deprived backgrounds grow up in homes with few books, rarely go to museums and concerts and often attend substandard schools. Focusing on outcomes, some people argue that fairness demands that these applicants be permitted to enter universities with lower entry scores than students from advantaged backgrounds. Others view "affirmative action" or "positive discrimination" as discriminatory and therefore unfair. Because there are valid arguments on both sides, a nuanced discussion about admissions helps students to clarify for themselves what it means to give someone "a fair go."