The server brought her fries, and Olivia thanked him before popping the superior incarnation of potatoes into her mouth, holding back a groan of appreciation at the flavor. Crispy and perfectly seasoned. There was nothing worse than salt-deficient or too-salty fries.
“Like journalism, where they give both sides the same time and weight in the name of objectivity, even though one party might argue the Earth is flat,” Jaime said.
“Yes. They mistake calling out nonsense with being unfair and judgmental.” She patted her mouth with a napkin.
“However, a magistrate issupposedto render a judgment.”
“Of course, but we’re still the product of our upbringing, of our environment, our genes. For example, if you were raised bydifferent parents or in a different culture, religion, what have you, you’d likely view a given situation differently than you do now.”
“And that implies we cannot be impartial or objective?” A small smile tugged at the corner of Jaime’s mouth, almost derailing Olivia’s train of thought.
“Not necessarily. I suppose, in the end, I’m questioning the existence of an objective reality.”
Jaime’s eyes widened as she held Olivia’s gaze. “That’s… something.”
Olivia chuckled. She likely shouldn’t find Jaime’s stunned expression so appealing or entertain the urge to repeat the feat.
“Then what’s the point of the justice system?” Jaime asked.
Olivia shrugged. “People still need to be punished.” She ate more of her food, resisting the urge to lick her fingers, and instead, once more used her napkin.
Jaime, in the process of swallowing a sip of her drink, coughed and covered her mouth with the crook of her arm.
“Am I wrong? Aren’t you in the business of punishing people?”
Jaime flushed.
Olivia had so many questions, but first, she needed her heart to calm down as there was no reason for it to assault her chest wall in such a manner.
“That’snothow I’d describe my job, no.” Jaime cleared her throat.
“All right. Here’s the thing, objectivity, impartiality, or even the nature of reality don’t matter. We can never be sure of the latter, and the former, well, we can try our best, but the way society is structured often means some…pathways are easier to access than others, especially for certain groups of people.” Olivia raised her eyebrows.
“When we’re discussing art or diverging preferences of flavors, I’d say the nature of reality doesn’t matter, and we need no ruling on whether chocolate or vanilla is better, nor do we need to agree on what an expressionistic painting depicts, but there are still objective facts—some things are true, whether or not you believe in them. There is no disagreeing with an assault or murder. Such realitiesaren’tup for interpretation.”
“For the most part, no, unless they’re faked, which has happened. But my point is, thepunishmentis what’s up for interpretation.”
Jaime stilled, her brows furrowing. “Excuse me?”
Olivia stifled a smile at the emergence of Jaime’s preference for all things black and white. “It’s complicated because there are so many variables at play.”
“Enlighten me, or I must conclude you’re full of shit.”
Olivia’s mouth went dry at the challenging expression on Jaime’s face, the glint in her brown eyes. The night might go according to her original impulse after all, and with such a delightful companion, no less.
“I recall your…disdain for how the justice system seems to favor some people more than others.”
“There’s no ‘seems,’ Counselor.” Jaime’s jaw tightened.
“My point exactly. We’re supposed to be equal, but we’re not. We don’t all have the same opportunities, and as such, reaching spheres of money and influence is easier for some than others.
“Take banks: they’ll give all the loans to people who don’t need them while denying those who’ll suffer without help.” It sucked, but there was nothing to be done about it. No way to change it, and aren’t you supposed to accept the things you cannot change?
“Well, banks wouldn’t stay in business if they lent money to people who will probably default.”
“Yes, of course, but isn’t it also an assumption? Many hardworking poor people are more trustworthy and frugal than a lot of trust fund babies.” And yet, none of it ever mattered. Olivia shook her head.
“True,” Jaime conceded.
