I work from the universal coding – the underlying principles of morality, integrity, cause and effect, and human behaviour that transcend individual personalities, status and power.
There is something deeply troubling about the way accountability seems to operate so differently depending on who you are, how much power you hold and, perhaps most importantly, who you have around you.
Justice doesn't always prevail, and consequences don't necessarily follow wrongdoing. We would like to believe that eventually, one way or another, people are held accountable for their actions. But life doesn't always work that way. Sometimes those who appear most deserving of scrutiny are also those best insulated from it.
And this becomes even more concerning when influential individuals surround themselves with people who rarely question them, never meaningfully challenge them and seem perpetually willing to fall into line. People who put loyalty, access, status or personal advantage ahead of honesty and integrity. In those circumstances, the absence of accountability isn't simply down to the individual at the centre. It becomes a collective failure.
The experiences and circumstances of Donald Trump and Russell Brand are by no means identical, nor are the wider questions they raise unique. However, both invite wider questions about the relationship between influence, public accountability and the people who surround those who occupy positions of power or prominence.
What happens when those who should challenge someone become the very people who protect them? What happens when uncomfortable truths are ignored, legitimate questions are dismissed and those prepared to speak out are marginalised, discredited or simply excluded?
When loyalty takes precedence over integrity, when self-interest outweighs moral courage, and when silence becomes the easiest and most rewarding option, accountability becomes increasingly elusive – then what?
Perhaps that's why the idea of karma seems so inadequate. We often talk about karma as though it is an inevitable balancing force, that eventually people will reap what they sow.
But it is difficult for consequences to catch up with anyone when there is an entire network of people, institutions and supporters continually helping them outrun those consequences.
And the most disturbing part is that those enabling it may not even consider themselves complicit. They may convince themselves they're being loyal, pragmatic or simply keeping their heads down. But there comes a point when refusing to challenge something is no longer neutrality. It is a choice, and that choice has consequences of its own.
Sometimes the greatest obstacle to justice isn't the absence of wrongdoing being recognised. It is the presence of so many people who have a vested interest in ensuring that nothing is done about it.
Perhaps justice isn't always denied because the truth is impossible to find. Sometimes it's denied because too many people find it more convenient, comfortable or profitable to look the other way.
