VIGNETTES OF CARING

About a year ago I met a self-described surfer dude at a conference. We got to talking, and I asked him the kind of socially awkward question a philosopher who is writing a book on the philosophy of care might ask. “What would it be like for you”, I asked, “if all of a sudden you had some injury or developed some condition that barred you from surfing for the rest of your life?” Perhaps knowing that I was a philosopher and therefore to be given significant social indulgence, he didn't seem at all bothered by the question. He told me that it would be a great loss for him; in fact, he would feel as though he had lost a bit of himself.

Then I posed the following scenario. Suppose he had been unable to surf for a long time, but surfing had gone on without him. However, later, all surfing had to stop. It had been outlawed, or the climate crisis had made it impossible somehow, or something like that. Would that matter to him?

He immediately said that it would. He loved to surf, and would miss it terribly if he couldn't do it anymore. But it would be good to know that surfing was going on, even without him. It would be a real loss to him if it no longer happened. A different kind of loss from the one if he had to stop surfing himself, but still a real loss.

There are people who are really concerned about justice. Not the “It's unfair!” demand of justice for them, but justice itself. The kind of people I’m thinking of here have what we might call an ideal, an ideal that isn't just about what people experience when they are the object of injustice. Of course, there are different views of what is just. For some people, an equal distribution of social goods is the ideal of justice, while for others it would be merit-based: that is, people getting what they have earned. Still others think of justice in terms of maximum liberty for people to do what they want to do.