When Right and Wrong Can Be Argued Forever, the Only Way to Function Is To Draw a Line and Never Cross It

Nothing is absolute. Not size, not goodness, not meaning. Everything is comparison. Big and small, good and bad, right and wrong, none of it exists on its own. It only exists when compared to something else. An elephant is big next to a human, but small next to a blue whale. The Earth feels huge, but not when you stand it next to the Sun. So what is big, really? Nothing. Just a point of comparison.

Is something right or wrong? It depends who you ask. And when. And where.

Morality works the same way. People say killing is bad. But is it? What about in war? What about in self-defense? What if the person is about to do something terrible? What if they already have? Suddenly, we’re no longer sure. We start asking, How terrible? Can we be sure he will? What if stopping him saves more people? But then again, who decides what is terrible, or who is worth saving?

That’s the problem. When everything becomes subjective, we can argue anything. And if anything can be argued, then nothing can ever be settled.

Take the simple example of hospitals accepting donations. Imagine a hospital is underfunded. Large pharmaceutical companies offer donations. Without them, services may collapse. Some say, Accept the money. People need help. But if we say donations from pharmaceutical companies are fine "in times of need," then we’re left asking, What counts as need? Who gets to decide when it’s serious enough? How do we know they aren’t lying? Today it’s survival, tomorrow it’s convenience. Once the exception exists, the boundary fades.

Batman refuses to kill. Not because all enemies deserve to live. Not because it’s efficient. But because once he kills once, the line disappears. Then it becomes: Only when needed. Only when necessary. Only when sure. But sure according to whom? At what point? Killing becomes a matter of opinion. And opinions can always be swayed.

The only way people can preserve structure in a fluid world is by drawing a line and never crossing it. Because without a line, they get lost. People happened to invent these lines because the world doesn’t give them any. Because there is no universal definition of good or bad handed down from above. These lines exist simply because without them, there’s nothing to hold onto.

Think of theft. Stealing isn’t “wrong” in some cosmic sense. It’s just something people agreed to stop doing because everyone hates being stolen from. It’s not that stealing is evil. It’s just part of a social contract, “I won’t take your stuff, and you won’t take mine.” That’s all it is. An agreement.

The same goes for cheating, lying, violence, even things like cutting in line. None of them are “bad” by nature. They are only bad because people don’t like being on the receiving end. So how do people make decisions in a world where good and bad are not built in? They draw lines. Clear ones. And they stick to them no matter what.

You cannot lie. You cannot steal. You cannot kill. These are clear lines. But the moment you start asking when it’s allowed, who gets to decide, or how certain the future must be to justify it, the clarity disappears. It becomes a game of negotiation. Because everyone will have a reason, and no one will be completely wrong.

People often think trials are about justice. They are not. They are about the law. The trial does not ask, “Was it right?” It asks, “Does it match the rule written in the book?” It checks the paragraphs written in the book. It compares the situation to a fixed set of instructions and returns a result. Guilty. Not guilty. Because justice isn’t something we can measure. Law is.

To act in a world of relativity, people need something fixed. A reference point. A line. Happened to be invented by people and held in place by people. Because the universe gives us none. There’s no absolute “good” or “bad” that tells you the answer. There is only the line.

It’s like this, in a universe with no floor, people happened to build platforms to stand on. They’re not real. They’re not perfect either. But the moment people stop following them, they fall.