This chapter begins with the origins of "social justice," a term that emerged among Jesuits in the 1840s and ’50s and then infused the Catholic workers’ movements and social teaching of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. American essayists and activists have used the essay to persuade readers of the productive overlap of two utopian systems: Christianity and (democratic) socialism. This chapter explores five thinkers – Eugene V. Debs, Helen Keller, Peter Maurin, Dorothy Day, and Cornel West – who have been particularly prolific essayists, writing fluently and frequently about social justice in the earliest sense of the word. By recalling the earliest context of the term social justice, this chapter adds another dimension to contemporary debates on everything from Black struggle to economic inequality, from climate justice to equitable representation at all levels of government. The essay form allowed the writers studied in this chapter to articulate in a variety of styles, from the lyrical to the vociferous, the pedagogical to the morally urgent, the need for a compassionate understanding of human wretchedness in an industrialized world bent on breaking the worker.

Starting in the early twentieth century, this chapter surveys the most significant essays about disability and essays written by writers with disabilities, including Helen Keller, Randolph Bourne, Paul K. Longmore, Leonard Kriegel, and Esmé Weijun Wang. Exploring the common themes and the rich variety of styles represented in these essays, the chapter synthesizes a wide array of firsthand experiences by people with blindness, polio, schizophrenia, deformities, multiple sclerosis, and other conditions. Some of these essays highlight the discrimination and exclusion faced by the authors – Longmore’s stories of the financial hardships he faced due to his disability are a particularly compelling example – while others craft a new poetics to describe the singularity and promise of a life lived with a disability. The chapter closes with contemporary essays that illustrate the extent to which the field of disability writing has greatly diversified in the twenty-first century, offering a more extensive record of human experience.

This essay addresses one of life’s Big Questions, and for too long theologians have had a monopoly on an answer. Unfortunately, many philosophers and scientists have punted on the question, preferring something along the lines of “the universe has no purpose – we have to create our own purposes,” which is true as far as it goes, but doesn’t go far enough. One reason for the reticence of philosophers and scientists to speak out on the matter beyond this now-clichéd reply is that they fear being accused of the “naturalistic fallacy,” or of bumping up against David Hume’s “Is-Ought” wall (which I address in Chapter 19 in this volume). This is a red herring. We need not concede any ground to theists on this (or any other) question related to meaning, morals, and values, and to that end I append to this essay my February 2018 Scientific American column titled “Alvy’s Error and the Meaning of Life,” in which I come at the question from yet another perspective, this time demonstrating why theists’ answer to the purpose question is not just misguided; it is wrong.