Today, in the midst of the broader discussion of the Arnold reading, Professor Moglen talked about “winning the lottery”. I’ve thought about this frequently – that the place where I am today, and indeed most of the places I’ve gone in my life, were predetermined by the time and place where I was born. Obviously there have been choices made along the way, but I’m not interested in addressing how frequently these choices were actually conscious decisions or to what extent a conscious decision can even be reached. Rather, I’d like to address the issues that arise for me when I presume that my privileged position in life is largely due to random chance.

The main difficulty, when I think about the circumstances that brought me to law school, is that I have trouble feeling that I’ve really earned my achievements. Granted, I succeeded at test-taking in college and then learned how to take a four-hour exam, but in doing so, I’ve felt like one of the multitude of ants following my prescribed role in building the anthill. With this sentiment, and with my experiences in other countries not as fortunate as our own, I find it exceedingly difficult to justify spending my life at a firm. My concept of justice may be subjective or insignificant, but that concept nonetheless makes me reluctant to see such a life stretching ahead of me.

I’m sure there are many people in the class who have traveled or lived outside of the “developed world”, and I’m curious to know how others feel about working as a part of structures that often seem to deepen existing inequities. If you accept that there is some abstract thing called justice (albeit defined differently for each of us), is it unjust for a law student, with a wealth of opportunities, to work within the structures in place in this country to make a comfortable life for herself and her family? I also wonder what kind of dialogue would follow if we consider the contention that the United States has won the lottery multiple times, and that this country’s prosperity is due more to chance than to any superior system of values or organization.

-- MichaelDignan - 05 Feb 2009

Why should you feel like you've "really earned" your achievements? I don't really consider it a "trouble" at all.

-- WalkerNewell - 05 Feb 2009

Like Walker, I was having a lot of trouble relating to the cognitive resistance to the idea that your achievements are partially, if not largely or entirely, a function of external conditions that aligned to create your birth, your personality, and your choices.

Although Michael, it seems like you are saying that you have a hard time with the thought of becoming a lawyer who works for a law firm and gets rich because, as a function of this whole, my-achievements-are-not-entirely-my-own thing, you didn't work hard enough to get to a position where you could live somewhat selfishly and take a job that didn't really pursue "justice." If free will was real, and if you had 100% control and responsibility for where you are today, would you feel better about going to a firm? I may be misunderstanding your point.

-- MolissaFarber - 06 Feb 2009

Michael, Professor Moglen's comment that recognition of the randomness of our position should make us think harder about our choices made me pause as well. I don't think that this acknowledgment dictates (or bars) any specific line of work – I do think that it means that we need to think harder about our choices and how those choices will enable us to help others.

If a given person will be able to impact the world in a more positive way by working at a large firm (and donating a significant chunk of their salary to worthwhile causes) than by working at a non-profit, wouldn’t the law firm be the more responsible choice? (I recognize that working for a large firm reinforces the economic structure of our profession. While I think we’re all capable of changing the world for the better, I don’t think we’re all capable of changing the very way in which the legal world operates.) In today’s world, money can accomplish a lot - and I think it would be wrong to ignore that. If a given person will be able to impact the world in a more positive way by working at a large firm (and donating a significant chunk of their salary to worthwhile causes) than by working at a non-profit, wouldn’t the law firm be the more responsible choice (assuming large firm work was suitable for the individual)? (I recognize that working for a large firm reinforces the economic structure of our profession. While I think we’re all capable of changing the world for the better, I don’t think we’re all capable of changing the very way in which the legal world operates.) In today’s world, money can accomplish a lot - and I think it would be wrong to ignore that. Realizing that we owe our position in the world to a lot of luck (without forgetting that we’re also here because of our hard work) means that we ought to make less selfish choices – but that recognition, to me, doesn’t mean that choosing to work at a law firm would be selfish, or that choosing to work for a worthy social good would be selfless. I think it’s all about the net positive change in the world our choices will enable us to make.

-- MelissaMitgang - 06 Feb 2009

I think the topic may be confused as to which is my point vs. Michael's... My point isn't so much that I didn't work hard enough to get to this point. My main question is, given the random advantages that many of us have enjoyed, whether others feel an obligation to do something other than merely forge a comfortable life for themselves.

-- WalkerNewell - 06 Feb 2009

“…given the random advantages that many of us have enjoyed, whether others feel an obligation to do something other than merely forge a comfortable life for themselves.”

As I alluded to in my post ExplainingWhatISaidInClassToday, I certainly do feel the kind of obligation Walker inquires about here. I hesitate, however, to use the word “obligation” because – much like “duty” – it connotes some level of altruism. I do not believe in altruism: My sense of obligation stems from the discomfort I know that I would feel if my work had no greater purpose than financial gain. In this way, the sense of “obligation” is grounded more in selfishness than in selflessness.

The way I think about our privilege is similar to the court’s reasoning in Evans v. Merriweather, a water-rights case we read in Property this week (wait, bear with me!). In essence, the court said that a riparian landowner may withdraw enough water from a stream on his land to satisfy his “natural” needs (drinking, farming), but not his “artificial needs” (consuming the entire flow of the stream for his mill). In short, Evans's right was one of “reasonable use.” Similarly, I may use my happenstance privilege to live a reasonably comfortable life, but to use it entirely for my own benefit in complete disregard of the rest of the world would be satisfying an artificial need. It would amount to greed.

In my mind, this is such a basic conception of justice that I have difficulties understanding how it is not clear to everybody in the room. I thought that most people come to law school because they want to explore and exploit a theretofore inexplicable sense of “right/wrong, fair/unfair, justice/injustice” lodged in their guts. Assuming, arguendo, that I am foolishly naïve on this matter (it would certainly not be the first time), and some people study law for reasons other than to serve their gut sense of justice, it would be interesting to explore the factors that lead some people to feel a sense of obligation and others not. A nature-nurture type exploration: To what extent does exposure to inequality matter? Parental or community values? Religion or lack thereof? The inexplicable phenomenon that constitutes our souls?

Personally, I remember the very first moment I felt it: It was in 1991, after the fall of Communism in Eastern Europe, when I first went to visit my father in Poland. I looked around at what I then thought was poverty and instantly realized the randomness of my own privilege, having grown up in Sweden, a two-hour flight away. Since then, I have felt an obligation to give at least as much as I take from "the world." But does this mean that absent that early exposure I would not react the way I do today in the face of injustice?

-- AnjaHavedal? - 06 Feb 2009