Justice is my being allowed to do whatever I like.
Injustice is whatever prevents my doing so.
— Samuel Butler
We're about to see Joe Biden try to replace deprivation with comfort—or at least the opportunity to achieve comfort. And we're about to see Republicans try to block him.
I was raised to be a New Deal Democrat and cannot sympathize with anyone—except the rich—who supports the other party; and I can hardly sympathize with the rich. (My tender feelings fizzle fairly fast for households earning $300K+ a year.)
Biden's plan is bold because justice is at stake.
Justice is simple.
But if you're not a Republican, you know justice is about fairness, not self-interest, not ownership—and certainly not ownership of you (the gripe of Republicans is that taxes equate to Stalinist "forced labor"). Fairness means you don't trammel others' rights, including the right to a fair opportunity—a "fair shake," as Biden prefers to say.
What's so complicated about that?
Now, Congressional gridlocking aside, the realist in me recognizes that giving everyone her fair shake won't be easy.
First, some rich people will have to pay more taxes. Tough turkey. If you earn over $300K, I won't cry for you.
Second, some poor people will waste their opportunity. That'll be no one's fault but their own. I won't cry for them, either. Justice, after all, assures inalienable rights; even the right to screw up.
Thrownness is the human condition, our lot in life, the hand we're dealt. We're all born "situated," as Sartre said. Some are born haves, some have-nots; some White, some non-White; some abled, some disabled; some competent, some grossly not so. Justice seeks to throw off our thrownness.
We're all just riders on the storm.
Why don't Republicans get that?
