Whereabout F

On thirst for justice

Some human beings have an ingrained thirst for universal justice, order, harmony and rationality, which means that when we observe that, time and again, the same bad outcome occurs whether we do things right or wrong, we tend to do them wrong — in order that there may be justice, order, harmony and rationality in the world.

If one needs there to be justice and cannot change the numbers, one will have no choice but to change the merits.

(How much irony, and how much cynicism, if any, would there be in this position?)

(On cynicism, hypocrisy and irony.)


The same may be the case with the refuse lorry worker.

We read, at the end of Do your magic with rubbish! (Haz tu magia con los residuos) [July, 2025]:

On 11 March 2026, I found the rubbish bins lying upside down.

The manoeuvre may have been accidental; equally, it may have been deliberately devised and carried out by the worker responsible for emptying the bins into the lorry.

The fact that it has never happened again strongly suggests that the bins were left upside down by accident after all.

At the time, however, I instinctively saw it as an ingenious and generous act by the worker — a view that I consciously chose to embrace. Seen in that light, the manoeuvre became a touchstone for many of the reflections that followed.

On the very day I found the bins upside down, I published a tweet with my optimistic interpretation.


The optimistic interpretation would be described shortly afterwards, separately, in the article On intelligence:

Such a simple, quick manoeuvre — leaving the bins upside down after emptying them into the lorry — means that:

— on the one hand, homeless people, vandals, or employees from neighbouring buildings wishing to steal the bins would first have to put them back on their wheels;

— on the other hand, anyone wanting to dump rubbish in the bins outside collection hours, once the lorry had already emptied them, would likewise have to set them upright before they could lift the lid.


We who have read these posts know that I exist, that I saw the bins upside down and understood, appreciated and was grateful for the manoeuvre.

Our doubt was whether there was anyone behind the manoeuvre who had carried it out consciously and moved by its very intelligence and nobility. This doubt on our part was heightened by the fact that the manoeuvre never happened again.

But what if, conversely, the refuse lorry worker had thought that I did not exist, that there was no one who understood, appreciated, was grateful for, rewarded or encouraged the manoeuvre, no one who would act towards him in accordance with his merits and demonstrated potential?

It could be that the intelligent, noble worker existed, and that his noble thirst for justice had been the reason the manoeuvre was never repeated.