Who Gets to Be Human?
The human being is only truly seen once they become a category — and in that moment, we begin to see how far our everyday perception can drift from the first article of the German Constitution.
“Human dignity shall be inviolable.”
— Basic Law for the Federal Republic of Germany, Article 1, Paragraph 1, Sentence 1.
Dignity is still often treated as recognition. And recognition, in many people’s minds, must be earned — at least that is how it appears to me. It is a harsh equation, but unfortunately also a realistic one. Socially speaking, recognition often seems to be something that can be granted, withdrawn, or deserved. It is not treated as a foundation but as a currency. Those who can pay receive it. Those who cannot — or are unable to — disappear from view.
Where things become uncomfortable, people tend not to look. We all know this.
But why do we do it?
Perhaps because we regret the trust we offered when someone responds differently than we hoped they would. But who are we to decide that? Of course, everyone can distinguish between right and wrong. Yet when it comes to wrongdoing, we are often quicker to condemn than to acknowledge where someone might be right.
It reminds me of the way many people now approach wild animals. Thankfully, a healthier attitude has become more common. A wild animal is treated as exactly that — a wild animal. Trust between humans and animals may develop despite the distance. That is almost inevitable when food and reliability are involved. But it is not the goal.
What I mean is role clarity — not distance as coldness.
A doctor is fully present and fully a doctor. A nurse, a lawyer, a shop assistant — in that moment they hold a professional relationship that is both caring and bounded. Outside of work, we generally appreciate a separation between professional roles and private lives.
And in private life as well: if I help someone, I am there for that person in that moment. A lasting bond does not have to emerge from it. I am someone who likes to help, while knowing that I cannot save everyone. My perspective is limited. Yet these two things do not contradict each other.
What I am pushing back against is the idea that granting another person legitimacy or basic fairness is such an enormous effort.
To me, it is not.
I argue that every human being should be granted the same rights, regardless of what they are or what they have done.
A beautiful thought, the common response goes, but one that has no place in reality.
Why should I grant others what is not granted to me?
The argument is understandable. Yet if everyone only looks after themselves, change will never arrive.
The next step in the argument concerns people who have caused harm, in whatever form. Why should they deserve rights?
That is thin ice. Very thin ice, I admit.
Human rights exist precisely for the people we do not like.
Not for those who make it easy.
Not as a reward for good behaviour.
They exist exactly where things become difficult, because a right that only applies under pleasant conditions is not a right at all. It is a privilege. And privileges are granted and revoked depending on who holds power. Categories must not determine rights. That is precisely the mechanism Article 1 of the Basic Law was written against.
A human being cannot be understood in isolation. What I think about you also shapes me.
Taken too far, this idea could be mistaken for blindness toward injustice. I do not think it is the same thing. I can still acknowledge that someone has done something wrong — and depending on the severity, something that cannot be excused. But the hatred I place upon that person remains something I carry within myself. That does not strengthen clarity, nor does it improve justice.
Judgement and dignity are not opposites.
I can believe that someone is wrong and still grant them rights.
Because one has nothing to do with the other.
What remains is a kind of healthy indifference — or, perhaps more kindly phrased, respectful distance. Rights without conditions. Responsibility without universal obligation.
I grant every human being their rights, yet my ability to take responsibility for them remains limited by my own perception and capacity. Live and let live then means this: I may approve or disapprove of what someone does, but that does not affect the right I grant them without claim or favour, because they fulfil the only condition that matters:
They are human.
Written on June 10, 2026 at 12:25. © 2026 Whisper7. All rights reserved.