Fairness is not the soft option

A judo coach in Jubail runs an evening class for boys of twelve and thirteen. He is strict. Late means press-ups. A sloppy fall means doing it again. Parents on the bench describe him as tough, and they say it as if tough were the opposite of kind.

But watch where his attention goes. The gifted boy is corrected as often as the clumsy one. The coach's own nephew does the same press-ups for the same lateness. When two boys argue over a throw, he asks each of them what happened before he rules. Nobody moves up a grade because his father is watching.

That is fairness, and he runs it with the same rigour as the warm-up. It does not slow the class down. It is the reason the class works, because boys who trust the rules stop spending their energy on whether the rules apply to them.

We tend to picture discipline and fairness as two ends of one rope, as if anyone in charge must choose where to stand: firm here, kind there. It is a false choice. They are not opposites, and having more of one does not mean having less of the other.

The real opposite of discipline is something less flattering. It is laziness, and laziness is usually fear wearing a comfortable face. Fear of owning a hard call. Fear of hearing what actually happened. The coach who plays favourites is not being too fair. He is avoiding the work.

Being fair asks more discipline of a person than being harsh does, not less.