The only difference is when I see unfairness or injustice, then I feel like I have to do something about it. But it usually isn't about the person, it's about the principle.
For me, justice is fulfilment of obligations between people, that we either take explicitly (as promises or contracts), or a very limited number that should be implicitly upheld by all — about aggression and property. But while helping others is a good deed, I don't think anybody thinks you have an obligation to anybody except your own conciseness or g-d, if you believe in one.
And about random chance — that's your relationship with nature or g-d (again, used here not out of religious sense, but just a very useful rhetoric device), and they're not subjects to justice, because they're not people. Surely, you don't expect other people to have an obligation to correct nature or g-d's perceived mistakes or injustices?
That does not contradict my point in any way. I do experience this "obligation" too, and help others, but I don't think this word fits here. But that's just an emotion — that's not a real obligation that I actually owe somebody except for myself.
Emotions are my own volition — I'm free to experience whatever I fee like. Real obligations are not; I have to respect them regardless of my internal emotional state.
oddly enough, autistic people can have an extremely heightened sense of empathy and moral justice compared to the average population. this seems to me to personally have some very distinct upsides and downsides.
When I was in school, I was in the office as part of something else when another young girl began throwing up in the waiting room. There were between five and ten people in the room and the mouth of an adjacent hallway, most of whom noticed before me, because I was reading in the hallway. When I realised what was happening, I ran over to her and held her hair, helped her stay clean, asked the office ladies for a bag and help cleaning up so she could get to the sick bay without slipping, and generally did my best to comfort her. It was very distressing because I got some of the vomit on my hands and had to deal with that for a long time until I could wash them properly. This was not a gender thing because I wasn't the only girl among the students and the office ladies were female. Later that day when school was ending, I was in the office waiting to be picked up and one of the office ladies came over to tell me she thought I was very brave and selfless for having helped that girl. This made me really upset and I asked her why she and the other people hadn't done anything until I asked her for the bag, which got me in a lot of trouble for talking back to admin staff. The guidance counselor at school told me later that they didn't act because they were shocked, which didn't make any sense because they all learned before me so they should have had more time to recover from any potential shock and help, and it didn't make that much sense in the first place that someone just vomiting around them would put every single person into a state of shock.
That is the first incident I can remember where I felt this specific type of anger, but it happened many times in different contexts over the course of my life (once I started watching the news, it would happen very often because of the events depicted there). When these studies started coming out, it explained a lot of things to me and was honestly a huge relief. I had gone through life thinking that a lot of people who were otherwise kind were (apparently at random) cruel, or selfish, or prioritised doing the "normal" thing over other people being hurt, and I didn't understand why they didn't just do the right thing, especially in cases where it's not even hard to do. Specifically, it was reassuring to know that there was probably some neural or developmental difference that was causing them to act this way, and that it wasn't an intentional choice. I know being diagnosed as autistic and learning about autistic patterns of behaviour that I fit helped me feel less bad about how often other people complained that I had made them feel bad for responding to their emotions incorrectly, using incorrect emotions in a given situation, or making people afraid if I had a meltdown. It helped me not because I felt like it gave me carte blanche to just do these things which made other people uncomfortable or hurt, but because in understanding what was happening I could try to find ways to manage the effects on other people and counteract the parts that were anti-social when it mattered, for example by making sure to explain my tone and emotional affect explicitly in circumstances where I suspect someone has misunderstood it. My hope is that as more of this research comes out on why people who aren't autistic often do the wrong thing, it can help them to do the right thing more often and manage more effectively the consequences that their not-autism can have on other people, in the same way as learning about autism helped me to manage the negative effects that my autism could often have on other people.
Maybe it’s my neurodivergence talking but that seems pretty straightforward advice.
Sometimes you aren't skilled or knowledgeable enough to help, and you'll just do more harm than good if you try.
Sometimes by helping, you'll cause more harm to yourself than you'll prevent in the other person.
Etc.
Yes, and the people who believe that this is not how things should work are, in a word, wrong.
Polities and societies who believe this tend to be very economically prosperous; GDP per capita has a positive correlation with this concept (countries with common law but no meaningfully codified negative rights come a relatively distant are second, civil law countries come third, and despotic regimes a distant fourth).
Immigration patterns of high-skill/high-educated workers follow this correlation as well; all high-achievers want to live in the US, those who aren't quite as autistic land in Canada or the UK, Continental Europe is not a meaningful destination for high-skill migration, and people will die trying to get out of China.
The problem with autistic-minded people, when operating under the notion that society has rules, tend to leak an outsized amount of political power into that society. A society that successfully prohibits itself from trying to capture that power prospers; a society that does not eventually becomes corrupt and devours its own ability to properly motivate those people to bother driving it forward.