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TWikiGuestSecondEssay 6 - 23 Apr 2024 - Main.PieroZanon
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> | Reflecting on the events that have unfolded in the past few days on Columbia’s campus, the complex interplay between law, ethics, and society has occupied my thoughts. Particularly compelling is the concept of civil disobedience—actions taken deliberately by individuals to express opposition to law, which they consider unjust, through nonviolent means. This essay attempts to explore some of the legal aspects of civil disobedience, drawing upon various theoretical frameworks to understand its role and limitations within a democratic society.
Civil disobedience is not a novel concept, it has been a pivotal part of democratic movements worldwide, advocating for legal and social change. The legal discourse surrounding civil disobedience hinges on the tension between law and morality, posing a critical question: When, if ever, does the moral imperative justify the breach of law?
Scholars like Peter Singer have analyzed civil disobedience through the lens of ethical philosophy, suggesting that such acts are justifiable when they address laws that do not reflect the majority's will or are inherently immoral. Singer’s perspective is particularly insightful in distinguishing between mere disobedience and principled nonconformity, which aims to provoke a democratic dialogue about the rectitude of certain laws.
From Singer's analysis, one draws that civil disobedience serves as a democratic tool, enabling individuals to voice dissent in a manner that respects the law’s authority while challenging its moral foundations. The essence of civil disobedience lies in its appeal to the majority's conscience, ideally resulting in legal reform that aligns more closely with ethical standards. However, the application of civil disobedience raises complex legal issues, particularly regarding the acceptability of law-breaking. Legal systems typically uphold the principle of legality, where laws must be obeyed until rightfully changed through established legislative processes. Such principle naturally conflicts with the notion of civil disobedience, which advocates for law-breaking as a form of political expression and moral duty.
The distinction between violent and nonviolent protest is crucial in the legal examination of civil disobedience. While nonviolent actions like sit-ins and peaceful demonstrations may find some sympathy in legal judgments, outright violent acts are universally condemned. This delineation is underscored in discussions by scholars such as Frantz Fanon, who, although discussing the context of decolonization, illuminates the potential for violence in protests against perceived oppression. Fanon’s arguments provoke further inquiry into whether violence ever justifies ends in democratic settings, a question that remains legally and morally contentious.
Further complicating the legal landscape is the reaction of the state to acts of civil disobedience. The legal consequences faced by protestors—ranging from fines and arrests to severe penalties—highlight the state's role in balancing the need for public order with the rights to free speech and assembly. The judiciary's interpretation of these acts can also reflect broader political and social biases, influencing the efficacy and reception of civil disobedience. Moreover, contemporary legal scholars like Jeremy Waldron have argued that participation in democracy involves more than mere obedience to law; it includes active engagement in its creation and reform. Waldron’s view suggests that civil disobedience might be seen not only as a challenge to legality but also as an embodiment of democratic participation. This raises the question of whether such acts can be a form of direct engagement with the democratic process, pushing the boundaries of traditional legal frameworks to incorporate more pluralistic views of civic participation.
In conclusion, the legal discussion surrounding civil disobedience is inherently complex and layered with multiple ethical, legal, and societal dimensions. As law students and future legal practitioners, it becomes imperative to understand not only the legal statutes but also the moral philosophies that underpin our legal system. Civil disobedience challenges us to reconsider the boundaries between legal obedience and moral justice, urging a continuous dialogue between law and ethics within the framework of democratic governance. As I continue my legal education, these reflections not only deepen my understanding of law's role in society but also enhance my appreciation of the delicate balance between maintaining order and fostering justice. | | | \ No newline at end of file |
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TWikiGuestSecondEssay 3 - 19 Apr 2024 - Main.EmmanuelOsayande
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< | I grew up spending my summer holidays with family in a small Lebanese town. As a child, I could see the bullet holes from the 1975–1990 civil war in the side of my maternal grandparents’ house. At the same time, I was struck by the fact that despite their hardships, people in our town continued to pay morning visits to one another to build community. Through it all, our family and friends came together to drink coffee, share community news, and tell one another’s fortunes by reading the coffee grounds in the decorative finjan mugs. During our reunions, voices intertwine like dissonant notes in a lively melody, each eager to find its place in a “harmonious” commotion––a reflection of our enthusiasm to share stories rather than intentional rudeness. Yet, the art of listening remains hardly understood. | | | | |
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< | While growing up as an only child, my parents fostered an environment where my voice was cherished. Early on, I liked to follow through on my decisions and do things my way, such as dealing with online harassment as a teenager, planning my academic path independently, developing my own rapport with God, or founding my startup. Faced with many questions, my parents constantly encouraged me to speak up and found comfort in relying on my words in moments of uncertainty. Holmes would say they used my words as a certainty for repose, but it was generally an illusion, which is why I kept seeking different answers, sometimes unsettled, or embracing all, always in between.
Through these experiences, I developed the need to speak up to exist––not exist to impress but exist to be my authentic self. It embodies my earnest belief that through persistence and passion, words, akin to lyrics in a symphony, possess the power to effect change in the world. However, our course’s journey made me realize that meaningful change isn’t only achieved through words alone, but also through the art of active listening. At the very onset of the course and ever since, I have been guided to step back, delve into the meaning of song lyrics, and listen to the dialogue unfolding in the classroom.
From our course, I took away the invaluable lesson of actively listening, which sheds new light on my ancestral home, Lebanon. In the summer of 2020, a tragic explosion decimated Beirut’s port, killing hundreds of people. I am convinced this catastrophe was the product of deep-seated corruption, orchestrated by individuals influenced by external forces and armed groups sowing fear and terror among citizens. It serves as a stark reminder that Lebanon finds itself ensnared, similar to a prisoner deprived of any autonomy and freedom to exist on its own. It dances to the tunes of a myriad of external hands, a chorus of voices, each vying for power in the political arena. Their ability to truly listen to each other’s concerns or empathize with the populace remains non-existent. This underscores the urgent need for transformative change––a shift towards genuine listening and empathy.
“Blackbird singing in the dead of night [echoing the plight of the living death]
Take these broken wings and learn [listen] to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise
[…]
For this moment to be free” [to exist as yourself] –– The Beatles, Blackbird
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TWikiGuestSecondEssay 2 - 16 Apr 2024 - Main.AngelaMaalouf
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< | -- DianaAvila - 14 Apr 2024 | >
> | I grew up spending my summer holidays with family in a small Lebanese town. As a child, I could see the bullet holes from the 1975–1990 civil war in the side of my maternal grandparents’ house. At the same time, I was struck by the fact that despite their hardships, people in our town continued to pay morning visits to one another to build community. Through it all, our family and friends came together to drink coffee, share community news, and tell one another’s fortunes by reading the coffee grounds in the decorative finjan mugs. During our reunions, voices intertwine like dissonant notes in a lively melody, each eager to find its place in a “harmonious” commotion––a reflection of our enthusiasm to share stories rather than intentional rudeness. Yet, the art of listening remains hardly understood. | | | | |
>
> | While growing up as an only child, my parents fostered an environment where my voice was cherished. Early on, I liked to follow through on my decisions and do things my way, such as dealing with online harassment as a teenager, planning my academic path independently, developing my own rapport with God, or founding my startup. Faced with many questions, my parents constantly encouraged me to speak up and found comfort in relying on my words in moments of uncertainty. Holmes would say they used my words as a certainty for repose, but it was generally an illusion, which is why I kept seeking different answers, sometimes unsettled, or embracing all, always in between. | | | | |
<
< | Welcome to CA | >
> | Through these experiences, I developed the need to speak up to exist––not exist to impress but exist to be my authentic self. It embodies my earnest belief that through persistence and passion, words, akin to lyrics in a symphony, possess the power to effect change in the world. However, our course’s journey made me realize that meaningful change isn’t only achieved through words alone, but also through the art of active listening. At the very onset of the course and ever since, I have been guided to step back, delve into the meaning of song lyrics, and listen to the dialogue unfolding in the classroom. | | | | |
<
< | The Reality | >
> | From our course, I took away the invaluable lesson of actively listening, which sheds new light on my ancestral home, Lebanon. In the summer of 2020, a tragic explosion decimated Beirut’s port, killing hundreds of people. I am convinced this catastrophe was the product of deep-seated corruption, orchestrated by individuals influenced by external forces and armed groups sowing fear and terror among citizens. It serves as a stark reminder that Lebanon finds itself ensnared, similar to a prisoner deprived of any autonomy and freedom to exist on its own. It dances to the tunes of a myriad of external hands, a chorus of voices, each vying for power in the political arena. Their ability to truly listen to each other’s concerns or empathize with the populace remains non-existent. This underscores the urgent need for transformative change––a shift towards genuine listening and empathy. | | | | |
<
< | Something I have always been open to speaking about is how the criminal justice system has affected my community and those like mine in addition to my sentiments towards police/sheriff departments as well as prisons and jails. Not solely because it is something personal to me, but because it is an ongoing infestation. I witnessed so many injustices happen that left a scar on me. All of them affected me directly and indirectly. I used to think that maybe because I lived in these communities they were magnified, that was until I paid attention. | >
> |
“Blackbird singing in the dead of night [echoing the plight of the living death] | | | | |
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> | Take these broken wings and learn [listen] to fly | | | | |
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< | Our Protectors | >
> | All your life | | | | |
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< | I was born and raised in Southern California, home of the infamous Los Angeles Police Department and Los Angeles County Sheriff's Department. Both organizations are notorious for the amount they get paid as well as their violent acts. A sheriff’s starting income as a trainee ranges from $75,000 to $95,000. A police officer’s starting income is more than $80,000. On the other hand, we are constantly seeing how these officers are using harsh tactics to arrest and are even going as far as “accidental” killings. They basically are getting paid for violence
It is a very uneasy feeling when those that are meant to “protect and serve” you, are the ones wreaking havoc in your community. And an even more hypocritical event is when LASD and LAPD pride themselves in fighting against gang violence, but they are formed of their own. Both government agencies have been known for having their own gangs that identify one another with tattoos and hand symbols. These gangs “engage in behavior that is brutal and intolerable and is typically associated with street gangs” (forbes.com). | >
> | You were only waiting for this moment to arise | | | | |
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< | One of the most recent news that hit LA was the discovery that there was a gang within LASD, the Compton Executioners. This particular gang promoted violence on an already vulnerable community and is formed on racist beliefs. But these are the people that are meant to protect us? They had very specific requirements in order to join that pushed racism and required targeted attacks.
California’s systemic racism goes further than just the policing. It is just one of the many factors affecting and creating the carceral state. California holds one of the largest prison populations in the nation. The cost of housing an inmate per year hit a record of $132,860 annually (calmatters.org). It is clear where California is focusing some of its tax dollars. | >
> | […]
For this moment to be free” [to exist as yourself] –– The Beatles, Blackbird
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< | One Wrong Move | >
> | Beyond Lebanon, at the heart of the Middle East’s everlasting turmoil, lies a profound lack of listening, fueling little understanding. How can anyone find clarity to listen when hatred consumes all sides of the political game? Through the resonance of our shared history, our collective anguish, our hopes, and dreams, both political actors and we, the people, would have recognized our kindship. It is listening with empathy, with hearts open wide, that we may uncover a creative common ground, rather than merely tuning in to orchestrate reprisals. Much like Brown, my underlying motivation stems from a deep hatred of injustice, yet diverging from Brown, I maintain injustice is not resolved through violence, but rather mutual creativity for peace. Our greatest strength as humans lies in our capacity for empathy. What we need is heart speaking to heart and listening to each other’s beat. | | | | |
<
< | Racial bias manifests itself in the statistics that form the prisons. The leading populations are Hispanic and Black men, which comes to no surprise to those who grew up in policed communities. According to the Prison Policy Institute, both the populations of Black and Hispanic people in jails and prisons are larger than the residential population. For Hispanics, the residential population is 40% in comparison to the prison population is 45% and the jail one being 47%. The Black population forms 5% of the residential population, but 28% of the prison and 21% of the jail population. Races like White and Asian have a larger residential population than prison and/or jail population. | >
> | “Let the end be legitimate, let it be within the scope” of empathy, let listening be our creed, and let words materialize our creativity, for therein lies the seed of change, waiting to bloom in our soil. | | | | |
<
< | Furthermore, the rates Black and Hispanic men are charged for similar offenses in comparison to their counterparts is alarming. The Judicial Council of California releases a report that shows the disposition of arrests and convictions based on race, ethnicity, offense, and prior record. These reports prove that Black and Brown men not only are being convicted more often, but are also receiving harsher sentences for their prior convictions in comparison to their counterparts. | | | | |
<
< | Seeing reports coming from our courts blatantly admitting how much race affects convictions is very daunting. But how does one even reform or fix this? Everybody is always claiming how the system is “broken” and we need to fix it. But really, it feels like it’s working the way it was meant to. It is preying on the most vulnerable and exploiting them. The carceral state plays a key role in breaking up families, attacking communities of color, and finding ways to retain forced labor. | >
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< | The forced labor aspect of the carceral states hints at what slavery used to be. But it seems to be “strongly” protected by the end of the 13th Amendment, “except as a punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted.” When looking at the circumstances incarcerated people work under, one realizes how out of touch it is. They are doing heavy labor and risking their lives for some jobs. California’s prison system is known for its active participation in the Camp Conservation Program where they hire incarcerated individuals to do the brunt of the work. However, firefighters are making at most $2 per day. Which is nowhere close to a fair wage. Because considering how much necessities cost within the system, this is not enough. It is almost like them risking their lives is only worth those dollars. And the worst part of it all, is that this does not promise a job after a release. They still struggle with finding employment even after all their training.
Where to Turn
California may be my home, but I will always be very critical of it. To see the effects of the carceral state on communities like mine has always broken my heart. I remember growing up thinking police officers were supposed to protect us. Yet as I grew up, I built a sense of “stiffness” whenever I was around an officer. All my interactions with police officers have always been very hostile. Asking for help when I was stranded led to my friends and I being questioned on whether we had a criminal record. Walking towards a restaurant while a party was being shut down led to guns being pointed at my loved ones and I. Police officers play one of the first steps in the criminal system through arrests which for communities of color then segways to the carceral state. So who do they claim they are protecting? And is this truly justice? | >
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TWikiGuestSecondEssay 1 - 14 Apr 2024 - Main.DianaAvila
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-- DianaAvila - 14 Apr 2024
Welcome to CA
The Reality
Something I have always been open to speaking about is how the criminal justice system has affected my community and those like mine in addition to my sentiments towards police/sheriff departments as well as prisons and jails. Not solely because it is something personal to me, but because it is an ongoing infestation. I witnessed so many injustices happen that left a scar on me. All of them affected me directly and indirectly. I used to think that maybe because I lived in these communities they were magnified, that was until I paid attention.
Our Protectors
I was born and raised in Southern California, home of the infamous Los Angeles Police Department and Los Angeles County Sheriff's Department. Both organizations are notorious for the amount they get paid as well as their violent acts. A sheriff’s starting income as a trainee ranges from $75,000 to $95,000. A police officer’s starting income is more than $80,000. On the other hand, we are constantly seeing how these officers are using harsh tactics to arrest and are even going as far as “accidental” killings. They basically are getting paid for violence
It is a very uneasy feeling when those that are meant to “protect and serve” you, are the ones wreaking havoc in your community. And an even more hypocritical event is when LASD and LAPD pride themselves in fighting against gang violence, but they are formed of their own. Both government agencies have been known for having their own gangs that identify one another with tattoos and hand symbols. These gangs “engage in behavior that is brutal and intolerable and is typically associated with street gangs” (forbes.com).
One of the most recent news that hit LA was the discovery that there was a gang within LASD, the Compton Executioners. This particular gang promoted violence on an already vulnerable community and is formed on racist beliefs. But these are the people that are meant to protect us? They had very specific requirements in order to join that pushed racism and required targeted attacks.
California’s systemic racism goes further than just the policing. It is just one of the many factors affecting and creating the carceral state. California holds one of the largest prison populations in the nation. The cost of housing an inmate per year hit a record of $132,860 annually (calmatters.org). It is clear where California is focusing some of its tax dollars.
One Wrong Move
Racial bias manifests itself in the statistics that form the prisons. The leading populations are Hispanic and Black men, which comes to no surprise to those who grew up in policed communities. According to the Prison Policy Institute, both the populations of Black and Hispanic people in jails and prisons are larger than the residential population. For Hispanics, the residential population is 40% in comparison to the prison population is 45% and the jail one being 47%. The Black population forms 5% of the residential population, but 28% of the prison and 21% of the jail population. Races like White and Asian have a larger residential population than prison and/or jail population.
Furthermore, the rates Black and Hispanic men are charged for similar offenses in comparison to their counterparts is alarming. The Judicial Council of California releases a report that shows the disposition of arrests and convictions based on race, ethnicity, offense, and prior record. These reports prove that Black and Brown men not only are being convicted more often, but are also receiving harsher sentences for their prior convictions in comparison to their counterparts.
Seeing reports coming from our courts blatantly admitting how much race affects convictions is very daunting. But how does one even reform or fix this? Everybody is always claiming how the system is “broken” and we need to fix it. But really, it feels like it’s working the way it was meant to. It is preying on the most vulnerable and exploiting them. The carceral state plays a key role in breaking up families, attacking communities of color, and finding ways to retain forced labor.
The forced labor aspect of the carceral states hints at what slavery used to be. But it seems to be “strongly” protected by the end of the 13th Amendment, “except as a punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted.” When looking at the circumstances incarcerated people work under, one realizes how out of touch it is. They are doing heavy labor and risking their lives for some jobs. California’s prison system is known for its active participation in the Camp Conservation Program where they hire incarcerated individuals to do the brunt of the work. However, firefighters are making at most $2 per day. Which is nowhere close to a fair wage. Because considering how much necessities cost within the system, this is not enough. It is almost like them risking their lives is only worth those dollars. And the worst part of it all, is that this does not promise a job after a release. They still struggle with finding employment even after all their training.
Where to Turn
California may be my home, but I will always be very critical of it. To see the effects of the carceral state on communities like mine has always broken my heart. I remember growing up thinking police officers were supposed to protect us. Yet as I grew up, I built a sense of “stiffness” whenever I was around an officer. All my interactions with police officers have always been very hostile. Asking for help when I was stranded led to my friends and I being questioned on whether we had a criminal record. Walking towards a restaurant while a party was being shut down led to guns being pointed at my loved ones and I. Police officers play one of the first steps in the criminal system through arrests which for communities of color then segways to the carceral state. So who do they claim they are protecting? And is this truly justice? |
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