In Parshat Mishpatim, the Torah builds a society of responsibility: protect the widow, guard the orphan, lend to the poor, restrain the creditor, pay damages, return what you hold as collateral before nightfall.

This is structural compassion.

And then comes the line that seemingly defines the entire architecture:

“You shall not favor the poor in his dispute.” (Exodus 23:3)

Care for the vulnerable, but do not tilt the scale for them.

The Torah draws a boundary that modern culture struggles to maintain: the difference between moral obligation and legal judgment.

Society should be generous, while the legal system must be neutral.

In the current climate, that distinction feels almost alien. Sympathy gathers momentum as institutions rush to align themselves with the seemingly weaker side in an “oppressor/oppressed” narrative. The presumption of righteousness often follows the presumption of disadvantage. It becomes an empathy swamp that drowns moral and legal clarity.

Mishpatim resists that impulse.

The courtroom is not a venue for moral correction. It is a place for weighing evidence. A judge may not rule by instinct, pressure, or empathy. Justice must be blind because fairness depends on restraint.

The Torah has forms of structural redistribution via charity and debt release, but it refuses to let generosity rewrite verdicts. Liability flows from action. If you damage, you pay. If you steal, you repay. Identity and circumstance do not determine guilt.

The Torah denies the emotional satisfaction of siding automatically with the weaker party. It insists that compassion operate through obligation, not through distorted judgment.

Mishpatim protects the vulnerable by strengthening society, while protecting justice by disciplining the court. Because when justice refuses to bend, society can remain both compassionate and fair.