The University of Hawai'i Law School's students, faculty and staff never had the good fortune to meet Chris Reuther in person, but our admissions committee had reviewed his application and enthusiastically admitted him to our law school.

An environmentalist who loved traveling and experiencing other cultures, Chris was someone we were anxious to meet. And Chris was excited to visit Hawai'i, which he described in his application as "the very best place for me to explore" issues of international environmental law "while training to become an effective counsel for disaffected peoples."

He would have completed his first year just a few weeks ago, and would have made enduring friendships with classmates and faculty who would have welcomed him to our law school community.

We know from Chris' application that he would have thrived at our school and in Hawai'i because we, like Chris, aim to use the law to solve problems, resolve disputes, preserve diverse cultural traditions and protect our precious environment.

There is no doubt that Chris was in the wrong place at the wrong time. In his few hours on our island, Chris encountered a slice of Hawai'i that it is uncomfortable to acknowledge. At night, on one of Hawai'i's beautiful beaches, Chris encountered individuals lost to friends and family and caught up in the forces of drugs, addiction and violence.

Had things been different, Chris would have joined us for a reception at the law school to welcome new admittees. He would have fallen in love with our school's face-to-face culture, grounded in tolerance and respect. But that was not to be. Instead, Chris's family had to deal with the unimaginable sorrow of losing their very talented and caring son and brother.

Had things been different, sometime during Chris's studies at this law school, he might have gone to that same beach park. He might have encountered the same people he met that night. And he might have said, "Here is a community with important core values and cultural traditions that are endangered. Here is a community that is blighted by drug addiction." It is likely he then would have asked, "How can I help?" And he would have made a difference.

It may be that people who study and practice environmental law tend to share an unusual commitment to action as well as a strong sense of reciprocity. They seek to preserve what is organic but ephemeral. They also work to alter how we think and act in the context of danger and constant change.

More than in most places, in Hawai'i there seem to be crucial crosscurrents working against or mitigating the harshness of isolated individualism.

A lead story in The Advertiser, for example, collected instances of regular people in Hawai'i acting heroically as they intervened in difficult, often very dangerous situations to come to the aid of strangers. Their explanation for such brave actions boiled down to the need to do something for another, at great personal risk, simply because it was the right thing to do.

It is difficult to measure such a generous characteristic, of course. But there still seem more such courageous interventions in Hawai'i than elsewhere. Yet what Hawai'i may nonetheless miss, as does most of our current social and political culture, is the need — indeed the obligation — to intervene to assist others at earlier stages of their lives.

Education and healthcare and access to justice deficits are among the most obvious areas where, as citizens, we fall dramatically short of intervening adequately on behalf of others.

Unlike Chris Reuther's example of thoughts and commitments, it is easy to sit back and to await the chance to scold. It is strangely satisfying to blame the schools or the judges or the social workers.

We are all strapped for time, of course, and it is much harder to get involved and to stay involved in doing something direct to address the needs we all share for both love and limits. Monday-morning quarterbacking is much easier than trying to capture what is best and yet to change what needs changing.

At the William S. Richardson School of Law, Chris would have learned that lawyers utilize many tools in the pursuit of justice. Certainly the punishment of crime is a vital and important tool. Lawyers also pursue preventive and restorative strategies to seek justice.

Yet in memory of Chris Reuther, it is particularly fitting that we renew our effort to preserve and protect where intervention is needed most. It is often complicated to determine when and in what way to get involved. At times, however, it is simply the right thing to do.

William S. Richardson School of Law Dean Aviam Soifer and associate deans Hazel Beh and Laurie Tochiki wrote this commentary for The Advertiser.