Imagine if every hero were a villain. Take good for evil, and evil for good. See dark in light, and light in dark. Trade the sun for the moon. Find love in hate. Now, imagine that your imagination isn’t an imagination. It isn’t. It’s reality. Every villain is someone’s hero, especially their own. We are all the protagonist. We all, then, must strive for justice. But what is just?
Justice is what we all agree that we must have, but we can’t agree on what it is. Its pathos is impartial, but logos says otherwise. Justice divides us. There is no fairness in what’s fair.
The blind scales of justice are rigged, by someone. We act as if justice is derived, discovered in our universe, like an atomic particle. This was Kant’s method for justifying his theology; he found his truths a priori, as today’s theorists have found theirs. Their pathos is compelling, but the fallacy is the same.
Their model of justice, perhaps unsurprisingly, serves to make them just. For them to be just, others must be unjust. Just as there would be no rich if there were no poor, the righteous are symbiotic with the scorned. Their justice comes from their truths, at the expense of the truth — or, are they just my truth?
I believe in a world that can be just for all. But that is predicated on the radical belief that the world is just. We all want justice, so it puzzles me that some subscribe to the view that justice must constantly be fought for but can never be achieved. It cannot be that their true aim is justice. So what is it?