Appellant constituted a legitimate class of one, and this

“Appellant constituted a legitimate class of one, and this provides a basis for Congress’s decision to proceed with dispatch with respect to his materials.” Thus wrote Justice William J. Brennan, Jr., a voice of reason and humanity upon the high bench of law. At first glance, these words may seem shrouded in the language of courts and statutes, but beneath them lies a truth that echoes through all ages — the recognition of the individual, the sacred worth of a single soul, and the power of justice to see one person not as a number in the crowd, but as a class of one. For though many walk the earth, each heart carries its own story, its own truth, its own cry for fairness.

To call a man a class of one is to honor the uniqueness of his plight — to say that even in a nation of millions, his cause matters, his dignity stands worthy of attention. Justice Brennan, in his wisdom, saw that law, though written in the language of universality, must sometimes bend its gaze to the singular. For there are moments when the general fails the particular — when the weight of rules threatens to crush the lone voice that dares to speak. It is in such moments that justice proves itself not by how it treats the powerful or the many, but by how it defends the one who stands alone.

The ancients knew this truth. In Athens, when Socrates stood accused before the assembly, he too was a class of one — one man against the machinery of the state, one thinker against the tide of conformity. The city condemned him, yet his trial became eternal proof that the soul of justice cannot rest upon majority alone. So too did Justice Brennan remind his age that fairness demands attention not only to the law’s general sweep, but to the individual human being who might otherwise be swept away. For it is easy to speak of liberty in the abstract; it is harder, nobler, and truer to see it embodied in a single case, a single person, a single cry for redress.

When Brennan wrote of Congress’s right to act “with dispatch”, he spoke also of the duty of power — that those who hold authority must not delay when justice calls. There are times when hesitation becomes harm, when bureaucracy turns mercy to dust. To act with dispatch is not haste born of carelessness, but urgency born of compassion. The wise ruler, like the just judge, knows when to move swiftly — not to favor, but to heal; not to rush, but to restore. Thus, Brennan’s words carry not only legal logic, but moral fire: a command that justice be living, not sluggish; that it breathe with the rhythm of humanity, not the cold pace of procedure.

We see reflections of this in history. When Abraham Lincoln, in the heat of civil war, signed the Emancipation Proclamation, he too acted with dispatch. He did not wait for perfect conditions or universal approval — he saw a moral necessity and seized it. The enslaved were not a mass, but millions of individual souls, each one a class of one, yearning for liberty. And in his act, he embodied the same spirit that Brennan later spoke of — the courage to recognize that the dignity of one human being can justify the mightiest movement of law and state.

So, my children, hear the deeper lesson in Brennan’s words. Each person you meet carries within them a universe of rights, feelings, and worth. The measure of a just society is not how it treats the many who conform, but how it protects the few who stand apart. Whether in courts, in schools, or in the quiet chambers of the heart, justice begins with the recognition that every human being is a legitimate class of one — deserving of understanding, fairness, and respect.

And so, let this wisdom guide you: see the individual, not the category. When you hold power, use it not for delay, but for good. When you witness injustice, act not with indifference, but with dispatch. Remember that laws are made for people, not people for laws. For in the end, the strength of civilization is not measured by how well it serves the many, but by how courageously it uplifts the one.

Thus spoke Brennan — and thus we must remember: to honor the class of one is to honor humanity itself.