Iustitia is a virtue that requires standards rather than feelings. Justice begins where personal preferences end. It is about evaluating situations, people and decisions according to the same criteria – even if it is uncomfortable.

Iustitia demands that responsibility be distributed evenly: no special treatment, no excuses, no double standards. It is the ability to stand up to one's own spontaneous sympathies or aversions. This makes the virtue harsh, but reliable.

Justice is structural, not emotional. It works with rules, principles and facts. But it remains human because it recognises that every person has the same right to fairness – regardless of performance, personality or usefulness.

This virtue prevents distortion: no over-privileging, no oppression. No ‘I like you, so I'll turn a blind eye’ and no ‘I don't like you, so I'll judge you more harshly.’

Iustitia protects relationships and systems from corrosion. Injustice destroys trust, justice builds it. And not through niceness, but through consistency.

At its core, iustitia is a protective mechanism against the abuse of power and against the tendency to make oneself the measure of all things. It creates order that does not depend on whims or ego, but on comprehensible criteria.

I work on this because I constantly fluctuate between the desire for harmony and the urge for clarity. Justice brings order to my social conflicts. It forces me not to let fairness depend on my mood. But expressing perceived injustices is also an important basis for this.