Justice echoes as a term from ages past, when the earliest philosophers thought about their human community. Plato’s Republic centered on what it means to be just in the city, what a community looks like when founded on justice. Since then, or even before that, justice has deserved a central place in law enforcement. Thus it earns our attention.

Despite the centrality of justice, I have give little thorough thought about what it actually is. The concept does seem fundamental to my practice in policing, but I cannot articulate a great or clear definition. Typically, I think of a vague notion of giving people what they deserve, both the victimized and the wrong-doers, in line with the proper standard.

According to the course, we discovered that justice is “universal,” in that it depends not upon a position or status, but upon our humanity. Justice is the proper enforcement of the law for all people to an equal and right extent. Thus it is the comprehensive concept for upholding the law; in a sense, it is upholding the law. Enforcing justice depends upon how we view people. Are they humans? Are they Americans? Are they business men or blue-class women? The matter begins with our perspective on people, the fundamental identity of people.

This universal sense of justice augmented my previous understanding. Jones and Carlson write that justice sees “all individuals as being worthy of equal treatment simply because they are human. The humanity is the common denominator here rather than, for example, their cultural or socioeconomic status” (127). Where I thought justice applied to all humans, I did believe that standards of justice may change based upon the context or individual. However, the definitions from the lecture and reading show otherwise.

I have a hard time enforcing justice to an ideal extent. It essentially comprises treating people equally, and that, I speak only for myself but suspect others share the struggle, is not easy. The temptation to lower a standard or enforce a punishment more harshly continually arise. For example, if a male abuses his wife, I may think he deserves a more severe treatment than a woman who abuses her husband. Thus, the gender of victims and culprits tempt me to judge with partiality.

To improve my practice, I need to accept the words of Jones and Carlson: “the entire issue boils down to moral courage” (138). Will I confront my temptation of unequal treatment? Will I actually change my practices? This takes work and help but I need to remember that humans are humans first, not of a certain class or color or background. This requires me to fight again cultural messages. Our culture continually sets some people above others or idealizes a class or type, and even classifies based upon criteria totally external to who we are. For example, the amount of money someone makes, that is, the paper bills that turn into digits on a bank statement, become the measure of who people are and thus how we should treat them. However, money does not determine identity; the person determines identity.

In summary, my notion of justice began vague. However, the central tenant of law deserves firm reflection, for it has garnered attention from the earliest philosophers to the most recent writers of law. Thanks to the lecture and reading, I clarified my understanding of the concept. Furthermore, and most difficult, is the strengthening of my just treatment of all humans, viewing them as one in humanity rather than groups of some other standard.