At the heart of the human concept of justice lies a subtle but profound truth: not all changes in the world are equal. Some occur naturally, such as rivers carving valleys or storms reshaping coastlines. Others emerge from human effort, such as buildings erected, fields cultivated, and art created, and therefore allow for attribution and accountability. But how do we objectively distinguish natural occurrences from the products of human labor? This question often arises in debates about whether land is a form of capital.
The answer to the question lies deep within the laws that govern the physical universe, specifically the second law of thermodynamics and the concept of entropy. Entropy, in both thermodynamics and information theory, is an expression of relative probabilities. Understanding this scientific principle illuminates the foundation of justice and property, revealing why some acts are rare, improbable, and thus uniquely human, and why these acts create rightful claims in a shared world.
The second law of thermodynamics tells us that in a closed system, entropy, which is a measure of disorder or randomness, tends to increase over time. Left undisturbed, natural systems move from order to disorder, from concentration to diffusion. Imagine drops of ink dispersing in a glass of water, or consider a sandcastle on a beach slowly eroded by wind and tide. This shift toward disorder is a move to higher entropy, a more probable and more random state. This tendency applies universally, even though biological life can locally and temporarily reverse it. Rivers erode rocks, heat flows from hot to cold, forests age and decay. Nature flows toward increasing entropy.
Biological processes, while capable of reversing entropy locally, tend to follow predictable pathways and therefore occur with relatively high probability. A seed becomes a tree, a species reproduces itself, a blade of grass grows to a typical form and size, beavers form dams, birds make nests, ants build colonies. These processes are wondrous but largely predictable, shaped by evolutionary history and environmental inputs.
Human labor is different. It is a form of biological activity shaped by intention and awareness. Human action not only reverses entropy locally and temporarily but also creates events that are highly improbable relative to other natural or biological processes. When a carpenter builds a chair, he takes raw wood and shapes it into a precise and functional form. This act reduces entropy in the local system, concentrating energy and order in a way that neither non-human organisms nor abiotic forces typically achieve.
This improbability is what makes human action recognizable. We intuitively know when something is man-made because it deviates so clearly from nature’s usual outcomes. Acts of building, writing, sculpting, planting, designing, and so on, are statistically improbable configurations of the world. They are marks of agency.
Thus, the improbability relative to the normal course of the universe defines the boundary between the natural and the human-made. But this is more than a scientific distinction; it is the moral foundation of justice. Deeply ensconced in our concept of justice is the concept of agency. Only improbable, intentional acts can create moral claims. Natural processes, regardless of their impact, do not bear moral responsibility. But human actions do, precisely because they arise from conscious intent and improbable execution. Therefore, justice must recognize and protect the products of human labor, because they embody the improbable acts of agency.
When a human laborer acts upon the natural world, the result is not the creation of new matter, energy or space. Those are conserved and belong to the universe. Rather, labor rearranges existing matter and energy into a new, ordered configuration. Imagine a pile of stones scattered on the ground. These stones are matter in a high-entropy, disordered state. When someone arranges those stones into a wall, they impose a low-entropy configuration on them. The specific pattern and structure created is the result of human agency. This is the moral core of property. Just property is not a claim over matter or space itself, but over the unique configuration made possible by human action.
This perspective reframes the nature of property. Land, absent human intervention, follows the path of high entropy and belongs to the natural commons by virtue of lacking human agency. Human-made improvements—houses, roads, farms, tools, and technologies—are low-entropy configurations that reflect deliberate labor and are rightly attributable to those who brought them into being. Just property rights do not arise from the materials themselves but apply to the transformations that are the improbable result of purposeful human action.
Modern society often confuses this distinction. Corporations and individuals claim ownership over natural resources and spaces, treating nature as their exclusive property. This leads to injustice: poverty, exclusion, and ecological harm. By returning to the principle that justice follows improbable, agent-driven acts, we can reestablish the boundary between what belongs to all and what can be rightfully claimed.
Justice is not an arbitrary or abstract idea imposed from above. It is grounded in the physical reality of the world we inhabit and how we relate with one another. When we understand that human labor stands out against the backdrop of natural entropy, we see why moral claims must rest on the boundary between the natural and the human– made. This boundary is where justice begins and where we find the true meaning of property, responsibility, and fairness.
