When Judgment Feels Like Justice
A reflection on shame as social currency
"He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster."
— Friedrich Nietzsche
I want to tell you a story. This one is about the Town of Pointing Fingers.
In a small American town, somewhere between the mountains and fields, stood a town square. It was a familiar place where neighbors once gathered for festivals, farmers markets, and music under summer skies. But over time, something changed.
At the center of the square now stood an old bulletin board, worn and weathered, known simply as “the post.”
It had started innocently enough as a place for notices, lost pets, and community announcements. But gradually, people began pinning accusations, suspicions, and grievances on it as well.
One morning, townspeople awoke to find a name pinned boldly at the top of the board. Rumors spread quickly. By noon, a crowd had gathered.
They didn't know the whole story, only the accusation written in large letters. Without questions, without context, judgment flew. Some shouted angrily... others nodded in quiet agreement... while some threw harsh words that would linger far longer than that day.
The next day, another name appeared. Again, the crowd assembled.
It became a daily ritual, fueled not by truth, but by fear, curiosity, and a subtle satisfaction of feeling better than someone else. Neighbors grew wary... trust eroded. People started locking their doors tighter, pulling their curtains closed sooner. Conversations became careful... safe... guarded.
Until one day, the town awoke to find a beloved figure's name on “the post.” She had always been kind... always patient. People hesitated, confused, unsure how to react. But habit took over.
The whispers started again, harsh and relentless. It didn't matter that yesterday she'd been admired. Today, she was pinned up, accused, judged.
Finally, someone asked quietly, “Who chooses these names?”
Nobody knew. Nobody remembered. Nobody had asked before.
They realized they had traded conversation for accusation... community for suspicion... and justice for judgment, without knowing exactly how or why.
Standing there beneath the shadow of “the post,” the townspeople began to see clearly what they had become, a town of pointing fingers, where truth mattered less than blame, and where healing had given way to humiliation.
Now they wondered, looking at each other through new eyes:
When exactly did being right become more important than being kind?
When did we allow outrage to replace understanding?
And how could we rebuild the trust we had forgotten was essential to community?
In the silence that followed, they knew “the post” could come down... but real change would require something deeper... something inside each one of them.
A return, not just to civility, but also to compassion. A return, not just to tolerance, but deeper than that... more than that... a return to understanding.
A choice to move forward together rather than apart.
No matter where we stand, when we dig deep enough, we all reach the same center.
Let’s go deeper.
The story of The Town of Pointing Fingers might feel familiar. It’s not just a parable... it’s a reflection of our society today.
We live in an era where judgment is swift, and understanding is rare. We’ve exchanged genuine conversation for immediate condemnation... replacing community bonds with suspicion and division.
Psychologists describe a phenomenon called shadow projection.
The shadow, according to Carl Jung, is the hidden part of ourselves. We deny, repress, or ignore traits we dislike or are ashamed to admit we possess. To avoid facing these uncomfortable truths, we unconsciously project them outward, seeing in others precisely what we refuse to see in ourselves.
What we deny in ourselves, we tend to project onto others.
Imagine the person who loudly condemns greed but quietly hoards resources. The one quick to judge dishonesty but secretly bends the truth to their advantage. The one outraged by arrogance, yet unaware of their own stubborn pride.
When we cast judgment outward... when we throw these stones... it temporarily relieves the inner tension, the discomfort of acknowledging our own imperfections. But this relief is an illusion.
The more we project, the more disconnected we become from our true selves, because we are denying ourselves. The more fiercely we condemn others, the more we reinforce our blindness to the parts of us longing for recognition... healing... and integration.
Our culture encourages and amplifies this behavior. Outrage is rewarded with attention. Condemnation is mistaken for courage. Complex human beings become reduced to targets of simplified anger, and morality becomes performance rather than authentic expression.
Yet beneath every judgment we place upon others lies an opportunity to learn something critical about ourselves, if we dare to pause and honestly ask:
Why am I so triggered by this?
What parts of me resonate with, or recoil so strongly from, this?
We might uncover truths essential to our growth.
True accountability, genuine justice, cannot arise from a foundation built on projection and shame. Real accountability requires empathy... seeing our shared humanity in others, even when they’ve failed or disappointed us.
Compassion doesn’t mean ignoring harm. Rather, it means acknowledging that healing and transformation are always possible.
Ask yourself honestly:
Have I judged others harshly for things I quietly recognize in myself?
Is my need to appear right overpowering my willingness to be compassionate?
Am I seeking genuine justice and understanding... or am I simply chasing validation and approval through the easy path of condemnation?
It’s time to shift from projection to introspection... from accusation to genuine conversation... from judgment to self-awareness.
If you defeat the enemy within, the enemy without can do you no harm.
Judgment doesn’t heal, compassion does.
Shame doesn’t inspire real change, but understanding does.
When we consciously choose to break the cycle of blame, judgment, and projection... we reclaim our power, not to diminish others, but to see them fully... humanely... compassionately.
In doing so, we also begin to see ourselves more clearly, with clarity.
Clarity is the removal of that which obstructs clear seeing.
Real justice restores... reconnects... and redeems. It doesn’t erase mistakes or pretend they never happened. Instead, it holds space for honest reflection, genuine accountability, and sincere growth.
It helps us heal, not only individually, but collectively.
So I invite you to replace quick judgment with mindful curiosity... suspicion with compassionate understanding... and division with genuine connection.
Because ultimately, when we learn to accept our own imperfections, we stop demanding perfection from others.
We step out of the shadows and back into a shared humanity.
That is how we rebuild our communities.
That is how we truly heal.
And that is how we reclaim ourselves... and one another.
