EQUITY THEORY: THE DESIRE FOR JUSTICE - When What We Give and What We Receive No Longer Match, and the Soul Begins to Speak of Fairness

Deep down,

beneath status,

beneath pride,

beneath all the ways we pretend not to care—

we keep score.


Not with greed,

but with dignity.


Not to win,

but to feel seen.


We measure not only what we receive,

but what we offer.

And when the scale tips too far,

something inside us stirs.


It whispers:

“This is not fair.”

“I’ve given more than I’ve received.”

“Why does their effort earn so much more than mine?”


This whisper—

this quiet ache for balance—

is the heartbeat of equity theory.


A theory of motivation,

yes.

But more than that—

a reflection of our most human desire:

to live in a world that feels just.





The Core of Equity Theory



Equity theory begins with this question:

Does what I give match what I get?


It’s not only about money.

It’s about energy, time, loyalty, sacrifice.


And it’s not only about reward.

It’s about respect, recognition, opportunity.


Equity lives in the spaces

where effort meets outcome—

where people ask,

Am I being valued in proportion to what I’ve contributed?


When we feel the answer is yes,

we stay.

We engage.

We trust.


But when we feel the answer is no,

we shift.

We pull back.

We grow silent.

Or we burn.





The Cost of Imbalance



An imbalance in equity

does more than cause frustration.

It eats away

at belonging.


We begin to question:


  • Am I not as worthy?
  • Is my labor invisible?
  • Why do I work harder,
    yet feel smaller?



Over time, we adapt.

Some people give less.

Some people leave.

Some grow resentful.

Some internalize shame.


But all of it

comes from a broken promise—

that effort would be met with fairness,

and value would be seen.





Not Just What I Get — But What Others Get Too



Equity is not only personal.

It is social.


We don’t just look at our own outcomes.

We look at others’.

We compare.

We notice.


  • Why are they praised more?
  • Why is their mistake forgiven,
    but not mine?



When we see unfairness

in how others are treated,

our own trust frays.


Even the most generous heart

wants to know

that justice isn’t just a word—

but a pattern.





Why This Matters



Equity theory reminds us

that justice isn’t always loud.

Sometimes, it’s silent.

Subtle.

Accumulated in glances, workloads, and rewards.


It lives in workplaces,

in families,

in friendships,

in policy.


And when it’s broken,

we don’t always speak—

but we feel.


And when it’s honored,

we grow—

not just more motivated,

but more whole.





A Closing Reflection



If you’re noticing a quiet tension—

a sense that something feels off—

pause.


Ask:


  • What am I giving,
    and what am I receiving?
  • Am I being fairly seen?
    Fairly treated?
  • Am I unintentionally asking others
    to carry more than they should?



Because equity is not only about being treated equally.

It’s about being acknowledged proportionally.

It’s about making sure the scale,

though invisible,

doesn’t tilt so long

that people forget

what it felt like to stand upright.




And in the end, equity theory reminds us

that justice is not only a system—

it is a sensation.

That fairness is not only about laws,

but about lived experience.

And that when we honor the balance

between effort and reward,

between offering and outcome,

we build not only trust—

but dignity.

And from that dignity,

something sacred returns:

the willingness to give,

freely and fully,

because we know

we are seen.