Justification

Content Warning

This post and the next are continuing the theme of sensitivity and offence – deliberate or otherwise. Everything will be from my perspective, and the views expressed are not intended as guidance of any kind.

If this is a delicate subject for you, please skip forward to Light Verse. Thank you.

In Earther 27, Kerrig considers his blind hatred of all things “Outsider” to be fair and right because of the injustice done to his parents’ generation by their parents’ generation. In other words, his attitude is justified by his being the victim of injustice.

In The Avlem Burden, Brinnesha Tynar justifies her rule-breaking behaviour on the grounds that it’s in the service of a greater justice. In other words, when called out on her own misbehaviour, Brinnesha falls back on the plaintive cry of childhood:

“It’s not fair!”

Yes, even as little children, we seem to have an instinct for fair play. Justice matters, long before we know the word. But a second instinct can sometimes fight against our need for fairness:

“It’s not my fault!”

The urge to justify our behaviour seems to intensify when we suspect that it may very well be our fault after all. But, equally, we yearn to argue our innocence when falsely accused. It takes a bit of practice at self-examination to tell which instinct is driving our own justifications, and it’s impossible to accurately judge another person’s reasons for justifying their actions.

When someone else causes me to feel offended, is it always a deliberate attack? When someone takes offence at my actions, is it always because they’re being oversensitive?

How horribly easy it is to assume the best motives for ourselves, and the worst motives for everyone else’s! If I snap at someone it's because I'm hungry and tired, or in pain, or because they're being deliberately obtuse. If someone else snaps at me it's because they are bad tempered, and in need of self-control. If I allow myself a treat, it's because I've earned it. If I see someone else indulging, it's proof that they are lacking in moral fibre.

Justification is a completely normal defence mechanism, but it’s easily over-used. When I start to justify something, I need to be very careful about why. We rarely justify things that seem right to us, but often work hard to argue in favour of things we feel, deep-down, to be wrong.

• “It’s not really cheating if...”
• “It’s not stealing exactly, it’s more like...”
• “It’s only wrong if you get caught”
• “Everybody does/says/feels that sometimes”

Sound familiar?

It takes courage to be honest with ourselves about our own behaviour, and it seems like a lot of pain and effort for no return. Isn’t it easier to go through life assuming that I am the only sane, decent, moral person in the world, and labelling everyone else as toxic, hateful, selfish?

Easier, maybe, but it gets lonely after a while. What might give us the courage to admit to our own errors, and the compassion to be lenient with others? Perhaps a little kindness?