Mountains and Molehills

 An Associated Press article by Christopher Torchia came out today, chronicling a rescue on Mount Everest.  An Israeli climber, Nadav Ben-Yehuda, found his Turkish friend, Aydin Irmak -- who he thought had already descended the mountain after reaching the summit.  It seems that Irmak did reach the summit of Everest ... one of the few Turks to have ever done so ... but ran into difficulties on the way down.

So when Ben-Yehuda found his Turkish friend, he faced a moral dilemma of sorts.  Should I continue on to the summit, attaining one of my life goals?  Or do I help my friend down the mountain and save his life?  That seems like a no-brainer, right?  And yet, at the same time, it isn't quite so easy.  We recognize the value of human life -- and the call to save a life (particularly that of a friend) seems to outweigh any other priorities we might have.  At the same time, being close to the summit of Mount Everest -- which is, most likely, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity -- is not something abandoned quickly or easily.

In Beautiful Boy (Darling Boy), John Lennon made famous the phrase, "Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans."  While this may not be what Lennon meant (because I've never been a big Beatles fan), it seems that life itself -- the things that happen in our daily lives -- is precisely what prevents us from achieving what we most want in our lives.

That becomes a dilemma.  We can become cold and calloused and ... ruthless ... in the pursuit of our dreams.  Or we can be observant and concerned about the things happening around us, doing our part to make the world a better place through the lives that we touch.  What is not clear is whether we can often expect to do both.

In moral theory, this is one of the pesky problems for utilitarians.  Utilitarianism is the theory which, roughly speaking, argues that the right action is that which brings about the greatest good for the greatest number.  What becomes a problem is the reality that, quite often, acting toward that greatest good is not in my best interest -- I can help others, but I have to sacrifice my own desires in order to be able to do so.  So where is the motivation to be a good utilitarian?

These choices are not easy.  As we think about our goals and dreams and desires, we believe that it is through the achievement of such things that we truly define ourselves (at least in one sense).  But we have to weigh that against the cost of such achievement ... because we are also defined by how we deal with life as it happens.  Which is more important?  And is that truly a choice for the individual to make for herself?

If it is a choice for the individual, then we applaud Ben-Yehuda for saving his friend ... but we would applaud, with equal vigor, had he continued to the summit.  I'm not sure I volunteer to be in the latter cheering section, because I think that it would have been wrong for him to have made that choice.