Worth

Kenneth Feinberg was appointed as the Special Master of the September 11th Victim Compensation Fund because of his expertise in mediation and his background in evaluating wrongful death claims. As a renowned attorney who had previously handled high-profile compensation cases, he was chosen to fairly distribute government funds to victims' families while navigating the complex legal and ethical challenges of the task.

Feinberg created a stringent formula based on each victim's income because he needed an objective, defensible method to determine payout amounts for thousands of claimants. The formula was designed to be consistent and fair on paper, though it failed to account for the emotional and personal dimensions of loss that the victims' families experienced.

The film opens with Feinberg teaching his law class about how the legal system values human life, establishing his formulaic mindset early on.

Charles Wolf, who lost his wife in the 9/11 attacks, became crucial in bridging the gap between Feinberg and the victims' families. After initially urging the hostile crowd to listen to Feinberg, Wolf met with him personally at the opera and shared his own experiences of enduring hardship. This encounter transformed Feinberg's approach from purely legal to more compassionate, ultimately helping Wolf rally other victims to trust the fund.

Wolf steps forward during Feinberg's first difficult meeting, asking the crowd to hear Feinberg out, a moment that planted the seed for their later relationship.

Graham Morris, a gay man whose partner died in the 9/11 attacks, was denied compensation because Virginia did not recognize civil partnerships at the time. This legal technicality meant Morris had no standing to file a claim, despite being in a committed relationship with the victim. The film highlights this as an example of systemic injustice that persisted even in the wake of tragedy.

Victims' families protested fiercely during Feinberg's initial meeting because they viewed his formula-based approach as cold and impersonal. The families were grieving devastating losses and felt that a mathematical formula couldn't capture the true value of their loved ones. Additionally, they feared the strict regulations would prevent them from pursuing lawsuits they might otherwise win, leaving them without adequate recourse.

After attending the opera with Charles Wolf, Feinberg experienced a profound shift in perspective. Wolf shared personal anecdotes about enduring hardship and resilience, which inspired Feinberg to reconnect with the emotional core of the issue. This encounter renewed his determination to use the discretion afforded by his government role to broaden eligibility criteria and approach the victims with genuine empathy rather than just legal rigidity.

The 80% threshold referred to Feinberg's goal of securing signatures from at least 80% of the estimated 7,000 victims' families. If this target wasn't met, families would be allowed to pursue lawsuits against airlines and other companies, lawsuits they might ultimately lose. Failure could have jeopardized the airline industry and triggered a financial crisis, making this threshold critical to the fund's success and broader economic stability.

Feinberg created a shrine in his office using tokens and mementos provided by compensation applicants as a way to honor the victims and remind himself of the human impact behind every case. This physical representation of the victims' stories symbolized his growing emotional connection to the work and served as a constant reminder that behind the numbers were real people grieving real losses.

The fund achieved 97% participation by combining Feinberg and Biros's revised, more flexible eligibility criteria with Charles Wolf's advocacy. After Wolf witnessed Feinberg's genuine empathy toward victims, he rallied other families to trust Feinberg's judgment. The approaching December 2003 deadline also motivated families to apply, resulting in billions being distributed to nearly all eligible claimants.

The ending was bittersweet because while Feinberg and Biros successfully distributed billions to 97% of eligible victims, the film acknowledged that some people, like Graham Morris, were still denied full recognition due to discriminatory laws. The victory was tempered by irreversible personal losses and the acknowledgment that the legal system couldn't fully address the emotional devastation of 9/11, leaving some families without adequate closure.