Question

In the book In the Torah of Rabbi Gedalia, it is brought that Rabbi Nachum Gestetner used a line of reasoning that Rabbi Yitzhak Shilat calls there “a person’s relation” to things.
Thus, for example, he explains why the law of a fixed case differs from following the majority: because people perceive a fixed case not as a mixture-based doubt requiring collective identity, but as an individual doubt regarding each and every shop. And in that way he explains more and more laws there.
I find this approach both very difficult and very appealing at the same time.
I do not understand how one can establish an entire, elaborate legal system on the basis of one’s relation to things and basic intuition about them (in the sense of “your actions are undesirable”)—after all, every person has a different intuition, even if only slightly, and in every generation people change this way and that way. If so, such a thing seems not stable at all.
Likewise, it is not clear why such a system is needed at all. If intuition is the main thing and not the act, then there is no need to establish laws, which do not fit everyone even at one given time (and certainly not across different times, as above). Rather, one should just let each person do whatever accords with his own intuition, and that’s the end of it. Someone told me that it is impossible to function that way because then we would have no means of punishment. I think that is not an answer, because if what is sought is intuition, then one should think of a solution that would allow punishment for deviating from intuition—the private, individual intuition of each person—and not punishment mechanisms that correspond only to the majority at a given time. To my mind, that is ridiculous.
Someone commented to me that in many places the general world also treats this kind of reasoning as legally effective—for example, if two judges were to argue whether killing fetuses counts as murder or not, certainly the motive for the dispute is purely moral and depends on each judge’s worldview, and yet we accept his ruling. And the same is true in Jewish law—when there is a dispute whether a tree whose roots incline in one direction and whose branches in another is considered to be here or there, the disagreement is seemingly about what each Tanna instinctively feels. And this too seems puzzling: why should we care what is in the heart of this judge or that one if we ourselves do not necessarily see things that way? Moreover, even the colleague sitting beside him does not see things that way. In short, how does the perception of some person obligate me when I myself do not see things that way?