What is fair?
Rabbi for Lifelong Learning, Temple Emanu-El of Closter, Conservative
Being a parent involves a lot of conversations about fairness. Whether it’s bedtimes, curfews, screen time, or clothing choices, someone is always saying, “That’s not fair!” Right now, in our house, the debate centers on iPad time. My five-year-old wants to know why his seven-year-old sister gets more screen time than he does. To him, fairness means getting exactly what she gets. And while it may seem like a small issue to me, to him it’s a very big deal, because it gets to the heart of what fairness means.
As parents, though, we know that treating children fairly doesn’t always mean treating them identically. Different ages come with different privileges and expectations. In other words, fairness and justice are related, but they are not always the same thing. As I see it, fairness asks whether everyone is being treated impartially and without favoritism. Justice asks whether each person is receiving what is right and appropriate given the circumstances. Sometimes those two ideas line up perfectly. Other times, they don’t.
Our Torah portion this week invites us to wrestle with that very distinction. Before commanding us to pursue justice, the Torah first tells judges how to judge fairly: “You shall not judge unfairly: you shall show no partiality; you shall not take bribes, for bribes blind the eyes of the discerning and upset the plea of the just” (Deuteronomy 16:19). And only then does it proclaim the Torah’s famous charge: “Justice, justice shall you pursue, that you may thrive and occupy the land that the Eternal your God is giving you” (Deuteronomy 16:20). The order is significant. Before we can pursue justice, we must first ensure fairness. A just society is built upon fair processes where people are judged without bias, favoritism, or corruption. Only when the process is fair can the outcome truly be just.
But if I’m honest, I’m not even ready to ask what is just for my children because I’m still trying to figure out what is fair. What does fairness actually look like as a parent? That’s the question my wife and I have been wrestling with. In our case, we’re not talking about anything monumental. We’re debating whether our five-year-old should get 30 minutes of iPad time instead of 15. We’re not exactly solving world peace here, yet somehow this small decision has become a much bigger conversation. Our instinct has been to keep him at 15 minutes because his seven-year-old sister has more screen time. Our reasoning is simple: she’s older, and with age come greater privileges. If we increase his screen time, then shouldn’t we increase hers as well?
The more I think about it, the more I find myself asking a different question: Why do I instinctively believe that? Is that truly the fairest decision for each child? Or is it simply an assumption I’ve inherited that older siblings should receive more simply because they’re older?
How much of what we consider “fair” is actually shaped by outside influences? By the way we were raised, by cultural expectations, by tradition, or by an unspoken desire to preserve the balance we’ve already created? In other words, are we always making the fairest decision, or are we sometimes simply repeating patterns we’ve never stopped to examine?
As I’ve reflected on our iPad debate, I’ve realized that one of the reasons I’m reluctant to increase my son’s screen time has very little to do with him. If he gets more time, then my wife and I would likely have to put both children to bed at the same time. Our current routine staggers their bedtimes, which makes our evenings run much more smoothly. In other words, part of my judgment isn’t about what’s fair for my son or my daughter at all. It’s about what’s easiest for me.
Perhaps that is why the Torah first commands judges not to show favoritism and not to take bribes before it ever tells them to pursue justice. Before we can ask what is just, we first have to examine what may be distorting our judgment. Whether we are judges, parents, teachers, employers, or friends, the pursuit of justice begins with the humility to ask ourselves: Am I truly seeking what is right for the other person, or am I simply choosing what is easiest for me? That, I believe, is a question worth asking not only in the courtroom, but around the dinner table, at bedtime, and in every relationship where we have the privilege and responsibility of making decisions that affect someone else.
Oh, and in case you’re wondering how the iPad debate turned out, we’ve decided to give our son a few more minutes of screen time. We’re now working on a system that will allow both of our children to earn additional privileges as they grow older. Whether we’ve finally arrived at the fairest solution remains to be seen, but at least I think we are on the right track.