My Rights Have Been Violated! Or Maybe Not

The other day someone had the gall to cut me off in traffic in an effort to be first in line at a red light. I know, what a jerk!

I felt my temper rise without warning, and I desperately wanted them to understand how they were in the wrong. They violated my right to that particular space on the road! That was MY right, not theirs. Sound familiar?

Once the rage subsided and clarity returned, I reflected on the experience and grudgingly determined it was probably a lesson I should learn from. I decided some time ago to reframe everything as a lesson so that something useful could come from events that caused me discomfort.

And so I asked myself why I felt so strongly about this “right” that I had in this circumstance. In fact, there is nothing written in any laws governing the rules of the road that gave me claim to that little bit of asphalt at the front. So perhaps a more accurate way for me to characterize the experience is that it didn’t feel fair to me.

And isn’t that where most ideas about a flourishing society originate? That things should be fair?

I might be simplifying a bit, but it is helpful to frame it this way if we want to look at what we are “entitled” to in this life. My example of the aggressive driver is an interesting one in that it didn’t violate a written rule, nor did it go against a social contract where the freedoms of the individual are curtailed for the benefit of the many.

In this case, it was just him and me, two individuals who wanted to get to a spot on the road before the other did. So, did he infringe on my rights?

Society has done a pretty good job over millennia giving legitimacy to human rights by recording them as laws and then enforcing them. We gradually come to think of these human rights as being absolute entitlements.

Depending on your worldview, you might say these are either grounded in a God-given decree or simply as a shared understanding that evolves with society. Regardless, our tendency is to gradually internalize them as being inalienable and unchanging. Examples of these types of rights might be the right to not be murdered, or the right to not be sexually assaulted.

But not my example of the space at the front of the line. At this point, our society has not decreed that everyone must stay in their spots as they roll up to a red light. And yet somehow I still felt entitled to that spot. I wanted someone to take note of the situation and right the wrong that was done to me.

I think there is something about this type of unfairness that evokes a visceral response in us when we realize nothing will be done to bring justice. We forget that there is no written rule about this type of situation, and so we treat it with the same emotional vigour as though it were an actual part of jurisprudence.

In a unionized environment, we can see some parallels with this example. Over a number of bargaining cycles, the parties have agreed to and established “the rules” by which everyone will play. These rules gradually become the inalienable rights of the union member or of management. If someone breaks a rule, the consequence is paid and the violator is put in their place.

But something happens over time where the line between “rights” and what feels fair becomes a bit blurry. This can happen to both sides of the bargaining relationship where a perceived injustice has been done, but when the collective agreement is checked, nothing is mentioned about how the situation should be dealt with. In fact, nothing is mentioned in all of jurisprudence regarding the issue. But somehow it has tweaked the fairness bone of an individual and they want justice to be done.

The lesson I took from reflecting on my traffic experience is that I ought to temper my emotional response in accordance with the degree of injustice being done. Is this person actually violating one of my human rights, or do I simply think it isn’t fair? As individuals, we sometimes confuse what we are entitled to with how we would prefer to be treated.

In this case, no grave injustice was done; I just didn’t think I was treated fairly. Next time, I’ll acknowledge it, accept it, and move on.