What is actually just?
Ah yes. Justice. But what is just? And even if we asked a million people, we’d probably end up with just as many different answers. On top of that, there are so many forms of justice:
- Social justice
- Financial justice
- Moral justice / ethical fairness
- Equality of opportunity and education
- etc.
But what is this actually about? To be honest: I don’t even really know. With everything that’s happening in the world, you often get the impression that something like justice barely exists anymore. Especially not in the examples mentioned above.
I have a fairly strong sense of justice. And I get triggered quickly when I notice that something isn’t quite fair. Not even just when it affects me. Most of the time it’s about people who don’t even have much to do with me. Especially when it comes to participation.
The desire to exclude no one
At the same time, I also tend to overlook many things and still try to push my urge to accommodate as many target groups as possible. Let’s just take any event as an example. I want to create a space that allows people to retreat without being completely alone, while also shielding them somewhat from the noise of the event.
Of course, I know—dry, logical thinking—that this isn’t possible at every venue. But in that moment, I don’t really care. Especially not when pseudo-arguments are used. More on that in a moment.
This example is about people who may not be very mentally resilient or who get overstimulated quickly by too many impressions and simply need a break without completely isolating themselves. Creating a place where exactly these people can meet and maybe even connect. Because how does that saying go? Shared suffering and all that.
Many such people—including myself—are part of my direct and indirect environment. And they often miss such retreat spaces at parties, especially when the venues are very large.
Pseudo-arguments and participation
When you bring this up with event organizers, however, there are a million reasons why this supposedly can’t be implemented.
“Then those people just shouldn’t go to such events” is often combined with “We don’t have the space for that.” While the latter triggers my logic and I can agree with it, the former activates the Iustitia in me. Because this is about participation.
Every person, regardless of status, origin, and especially mental health, has a right to participation. The right to go to parties or events and take part in social life.
Even CSDs and Pride events now have awareness teams and quiet spaces. Yes, the comparison isn’t perfect, because there’s often more room to physically distance yourself. But it’s about the principle.
Responsibility of organizers
Maybe not in a small bar, but in larger locations there is often potential to set up such areas. And by now there are also inexpensive ways to at least somewhat shield spaces from noise.
Arguments like “We can’t or don’t want to please everyone” or “Then those people should go somewhere else” are always bitter to me. Because often, that “somewhere else” simply doesn’t exist. Every event is unique—whether it’s a small regulars’ table or a huge fetish party.
As an organizing person, whether profit-oriented or not, it should matter that people can participate and feel comfortable. I understand spatial limits. But other—often pretextual—arguments are inappropriate. What I find almost even more important is listening. Many don’t even want to hear ideas about how things could be implemented. Or criticism about what’s going wrong or has gone wrong. Quite the opposite.
Was ich jedoch fast noch wichtiger finde, ist: Zuhören. Viele wollen nicht einmal Ideen hören, wie man Dinge umsetzen könnte. Oder Kritik, was schiefläuft oder gelaufen ist. Im Gegenteil.
Profit orientation is not inherently a bad thing. But especially in LGBTQIA* communities, inclusion should be taken seriously to enable participation for as many people as possible. That, for me personally, would be Iustitia in its purest form—at least in the context of events.
Gerry