When I honestly assess myself, I have to admit that my longing for justice is not universal. I want justice for other people’s sins, but not for my own. I want their misdeeds to be met with justice but mine to be met with mercy. Is this not the very height of hypocrisy? There are two ways I can deal with this contradiction. 

Sometimes I find myself on a reading kick in which I follow a common theme through a number of books. Over the past few weeks I have been fascinated with businesses that have the appearance of being legitimate while they are actually over-hyped at best and fraudulent at worst.

Elizabeth Holmes’ Theranos claimed to have created technology that could run hundreds of tests on a single drop of blood when, in reality, she was lying to her investors and running the great majority of the tests on industry-standard machines. Adam Neumann’s WeWork was claiming to be a groundbreaking technology company when really it was a mere real estate company that was using fast growth to cover up its financial hemorrhaging. Ken Lay’s Enron was using false and fraudulent accounting to deceive its shareholders and give the appearance of profitability.

As I read of the crimes and misdeeds of the founders or leaders of these businesses, as I read of the ways they take advantage of others, as I learn how they enrich themselves at the cost of their investors, my heart begins to long for justice. As I come to the final chapters, I long to read the author’s explanation of how each of the culprits was caught, charged, sentenced, and confined to prison. I long to hear how their mansions were seized, their cars repossessed, their fortunes returned. This rarely all happens, of course, since those with billions of dollars to their names can usually hire the kind of defense teams that can help them get away with the most minimal sentences.

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