The little moral puzzles about who to toss out of the life boat or whether to throw the train switch could easily be made into practical problems in the same way as other word problems about how many apples are remaining after taking three.
We know the goal of the apple problems because it's openly stated: how many apples are left?
The little moral puzzles give me a problem, which is different in nature from what I have currently described but is generally about the same issue.
Take that trolley problem, where the trolley is going to carry a bunch of people into the chasm, and you can throw a switch to divert the train and run over a guy on the tracks, and you don't have enough time to warn the guy. I had a lot of problems with this, and then I described the problem to my girlfriend, and she said one I hadn't thought of: "How do you know the switch is working?" Which, of course, you don't. And how do you know you can throw a switch? Because you've seen it in old movies? What if you get it half-way, and the train crashed on the guy and it also falls off, and everybody dies? You're told specifically that you don't have much time. So how do you have time to do your precious moral reasoning? How do you know anything about how you would actually behave in such a situation with no training and adrenaline pumping?
Of course, I know what they are getting at. They want people to think about the difference between direct action and lack of action and all that happy hoohah. But the situation is so contrived that it seems useless.
What makes the other problems moral ones is that each person is left to decide what the goal is, even if they agree that murder is bad, for example: is it murder if I don't interfere or can murder be passive as well?
If the goal were stated in the question: Only deliberate actions can be classified as murder and you are to minimize murder; would you throw the switch? then the moral questions would become purely practical ones.
That would be some refinement.
It would, however, be quite interesting to see what people would actually do when presented with a compelling simulation, such as in a realistic video game. You could also tweak the parameters. Change the amount of screaming by the people on the trolley. Change their ages, genders, or skin colors. Make the guy on the tracks drunk or in a natty 3-piece suit. Tweak the "uncanny valley" aspect.
This might gives some information on how this morality stuff
actually works in brains as opposed to what people wearing tweed jackets imagine and assume about how it works.
But I'm pretty sure that a lot of people who argue about morality would be disturbed by what was learned, and there would be more sputtering.
Edited to add: I can see the next point. The actual moral question isn't what to do practically speaking, it's the issue itself over whether mercy or justice is best, for example. Yet this gets back to the axioms that need to be established for any moral framework. I don't think there's any way to say whether mercy or justice is best, for example, without establishing the answer as an axiom itself--justice is always best--or establishing another axiom--a productive society is best, and a person who is forgiven and allowed to return to society will add to its productivity--or--a fair society is best, so a person who has committed a crime must be given his allotted punishment. Or any combination that affects such decisions. So all moral argument in that sense comes from people's competing axioms, and there's no way those can be reconciled with argument or evidence; they just are. All that's left to decide, from a scientific, evidence-based point of view, is how the axioms best apply to the practical problem at hand.
This is the presumption: that morality is a
framework (the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy defines it as a
code) that has
axioms. Or even that morality works by moral reasoning.
What if it doesn't? What if morality is like the (pick a number out of a hat) 98% of all brain processes that don't work like that? What if it's like facial recognition or understanding sounds or smiling at a cute puppy?
What if all this stuff about morality isn't about morality at all but about people's folk models of reality? What if it turns out to be just as plain inaccurate as Cartesian rationalism, Chomsky's approach to grammar, classical categorization, psychoanalysis, and just about everything else that people have traditionally said when they felt compelled to come up with a plausible-sounding explanation for how brains work?