The Crime We Enabled, The Reckoning We Face
The era and system we are leaving behind have inflicted profound harm on countless individuals, communities, and the environment—driven by nothing more than the pursuit of profit.
Exploitation intensified at every available opportunity. Once all legal avenues had been exhausted to enrich and empower those in control, laws, leadership, and even the cultural values of entire nations were reshaped—through corruption, manipulation, or acts of war—to ensure that nothing could obstruct their dominance. This power was sustained by the flow and accumulation of money and material wealth.
There is no crime without consequence. When wrongdoing is legitimised through the manipulation of moral and legislative frameworks, its impact extends far beyond those directly involved. The consequences ripple outward, affecting society at large.
To restrict, obstruct, manipulate, disenfranchise, impoverish, exclude, or punish individuals through a system of governance deliberately designed to criminalise or disadvantage them is among the gravest of injustices. Especially when such a system is constructed to appear not only legal but morally justified—implying that the victims are wrong simply for being victims, while the perpetrators and their enablers remain shielded by the very structure they created.
Few will ever fully grasp the complexity, depth, and reach of this crime against humanity. And while many of its architects and agents may claim ignorance—saying, “we didn’t understand what was happening”—the truth is that their contributions required active consent. At some point, each person involved had to suppress or ignore the moral questions that would have inevitably surfaced in their conscience.
These reflections may seem to call for punishment of every official, politician, or influential figure involved. But before we demand retribution, we must confront a difficult truth: nearly all of us have, in some way, contributed to the perpetuation of this system. Many of us have benefited from its processes and outcomes, even if unknowingly.
Though we may not be innocent, our participation has not always been conscious. The system’s reach and success have made it nearly impossible to function in the world without engaging with it. We must consider that many who enabled its continuation may have genuinely believed they were simply “going along with it” or doing things “the way they’ve always been done.”
In some cases—particularly in junior roles involving routine tasks rather than decision-making—this may warrant forgiveness. But for those who actively sought positions of influence, whose decisions directly affected the lives of others, there is a deeper question: were they truly suited to those roles if they failed to act in the best interests of all?
Seeking power or public office for self-serving reasons, especially in roles meant to serve others, may not be a crime in itself. Yet it reveals a troubling lack of awareness or concern for the consequences of failing to meet the responsibilities those roles demand.
We must recognise that the system has evolved to favour individuals who are malleable—less likely to question their role in perpetuating harm. Their selfishness and moral indifference complicate the question of punishment, especially when victims have also participated, and some perpetrators may themselves be unwitting victims.
Ultimately, the true blame lies with the architects, designers, and strategists who built the mechanisms of exploitation and manipulated others into fulfilling their roles within it. Even then, their actions stem not from empathy or understanding, but from the darker impulses of human nature.
Anger toward those who knowingly or unknowingly participated is understandable. But it cannot justify retaliation.
True accountability lies not in vengeance, but in removing these individuals from positions of influence—ensuring they can never again exploit others, communities, or the environment through their decisions or actions.
Adam Tugwell 