Justice Must Be Blind

Everyone wants justice.

Protesters demand it. Politicians promise it. Journalists expose its absence. Nations wage wars in its name. Even terrorists describe their violence as justice.

Perhaps that is why this week’s Torah portion, Shoftim, does not simply command “Justice, justice shall you pursue.” First comes a warning:

“You shall not pervert judgment; you shall not recognize faces.” – Deuteronomy 16:19

Lo takir panim. Do not recognize faces. The biblical commentator Rashi explains that “this is an admonition addressed to the judge that he should not be lenient to one and harsh to the other, e.g. letting one stand and the other sit; because as soon as he (the party treated harshly) observes that the judge shows more respect to his fellow his ability to plead is hampered (i.e. he loses self-confidence and cannot present his case with assurance) (cf. Shevuot 30a).”

Justice becomes corrupted when we look first at who stands before us and only afterward decide how to judge what happened.

Was the attacker powerful or weak? Majority or minority? Progressive or conservative? Do we admire the cause or despise it?

Sometimes the distortion comes from empathy. Suffering naturally draws us toward the person in pain. But compassion can obscure how the suffering began, what that person did, or what they intend to do next. Empathy is a human instinct. It is not a verdict.

Once we recognize the face, an attack can become “resistance.” A defeat becomes an injustice. The suffering of an aggressor eclipses the aggression that produced it. Terrorism becomes “liberation,” and “peace” only has relevance for one party.

Shoftim understands that the greatest threat to judgment can come from the judge himself. Human beings have an extraordinary ability to bend principles around the people before them.

Erase the faces. Reverse the identities.

If the nationalities were switched, would you reach the same judgment? If the religion were different, would you excuse the same violence? If people you admire committed the act you condemn, would you still condemn it?

If the verdict changes when the faces change, the principle was never really the principle.

The first justice is judging the act. The second is judging ourselves—whether we would render the same verdict after changing the faces.