The Endgame

Newsletter #98 - Unfairness

Toronto, February 23, 2025

Unfairness

Unfair treatment is hard to swallow. If you get your just deserts for some mistake you made, you can console yourself with the thought that you had it coming. But if you think you’ve been treated unfairly—that you received bad treatment that you didn’t deserve—well, to continue with irrelevant gastronomic metaphors, that’s another kettle of fish.

Another kettle of fish

Of course, unfairness, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder. Maybe you did deserve what happened to you. Maybe you weren’t entitled to as big a raise as your co-worker down the hall, or to that promotion the other guy got. Maybe the salacious stories about you that were spread around by an ex-friend or a political rival contained an element of truth. Maybe you did get your just deserts. Opinions on such matters can differ.

When I practised law, a client would sometimes come into my office angry about what they thought was unfair treatment. Perhaps they had been cheated by a contractual partner, or libelled by a business acquaintance, or had been fired for no reason—or so they thought. “I want to sue,” they would say, red-faced, perhaps thumping their fist on my desk for emphasis, spittle flying. “I will go to the Supreme Court if I have to! I will make them pay for treating me this way!” I would explain: the case is not entirely clear; the legal process is slow and expensive; the outcome is uncertain and may depend on a judge’s whimsy or what he had for breakfast the morning of the trial: there will be many sleepless nights along the way if you seek revenge through law. Maybe, I would say gently, it’s best to let it go, and get on with your life.

But it’s not easy to let go of unfairness. It gnaws away at you. Accumulated grievances are corrosive. This is human nature. And, anyway, isn’t unfairness the kid sister of injustice, and isn’t it our duty to fight injustice, even if to do so is nerve-wracking and expensive and causes sleepless nights?

Those who have been treated unfairly sometimes seek revenge. Revenge, unlike retribution, is an untramelled response intended to inflict maximum harm on the wrongdoer. (Retribution seeks to restore justice and must be measured and proportionate.) Queen Margaret in Shakespeare’s Henry VI, Part II: “Oft have I heard that grief softens the mind,/ And makes it fearful and degenerate;/ Think therefore on revenge and cease to weep.”

Hamlet pondering revenge for the murder of his father

Unfairness rankles. It gives you a bad feeling. Those who have lived a long life are certain to have experienced this feeling more than once. These experiences accumulate over the years. An old person with time on his hands may bitterly mull over the pile of cruelties he’s endured. Is there any point in seeking revenge for past unfairness? You could give it a try. As the saying goes, “revenge is a dish best served cold.”

Revenge can also be served hot. When Lady Sarah Moon discovered her husband was a philanderer, she swung into fevered action. The Independent reported: “Imagine the delight of the couple's Chelsea neighbours when they awoke to find, alongside their morning milk, bottles of Sir Peter's vintage claret. And still feeling the need to expiate her fury, Lady Sarah then ripped up favourite pictures and items of clothing belonging to Sir Peter, before finally piling up the debris of her husband's possessions into ‘a big sculpture’.”

Later, a cooler Lady Sarah said, “I am quite shocked by what I have done."

Lady Sarah: “I am quite shocked…”

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Some reader comments on Newsletter #97 (“Union Station”)

Geoff Ireland writes from Manitoba: “Somehow fate has brought me back here, when I thought I had unsubscribed. I will take this as a sign and stick around. Your column reminded me of a couple of chances I have had, recently, to perform random acts of kindness and, like you, I have allowed them to slip away. Partly this has occurred because I simply don't think and react as quickly as I once did, and the opportunity had passed before my brain processed it. I think I have to prime myself, be aware and more attentive, and slow my internal momentum to stop and take notice instead of just carrying me along my path to class or home. It is very cold in Manitoba at the moment and I have seen people sleeping rough in bus shelters. I promise I will get the next one in someplace warm and buy them breakfast.”

From my severest critic, now revealed to be Julian Porter: “I was chairman of the TTC for a considerable time ending in 1985... We were strict with passenger conduct. Now it’s changed. Many come to escape the cold, or use it as their residence. A huge, difficult problem. I share Philip‘s regret in not helping. I’m fairly sure others in my family would have stepped up and helped. Ohhh, to be stupidly shy at our age!”

From Kathleen Siepel: “You cannot imagine how nourishing your subway vignette was to me this morning. I suddenly find myself living in a cruel kingdom where the Emperor-God is systematically eroding compassion and simple kindness. Until someone shows him his stop and tells him where to get off, we can sustain ourselves with stories such as yours which can keep our humanity alive.”

From Matt, a fellow Substacker: “In a world where it seems like everything is negative, if we look up away from our phones there are incredible acts of kindness.”

Finally, from Sheree Fitch, Canadian writer and literacy advocate: “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you...connecting us with Kindness and Hope. Timing is perfect.”

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Note to readers: I’ll be travelling for the next three weeks, untethered from the Internet. For the next three Sundays—March 2, 9 and 16—I’ve scheduled republication of one of my favourite old Endgames. I call these “encore presentations,” shamelessly borrowing a phrase often used by the cash-strapped Canadian Broadcasting Corporation. There should be a brand new Endgame on March 23.