I’m privileged to share coffee on Thursday mornings with a group of men and women who teach me something every time we meet. Between us, there are well over several hundred years of public service represented—district judges, former legislators, educators, law enforcement officers, city planners, former mayors, and county commissioners.
Our discussion this week centered on the growing problem of institutional corruption in government—especially at the local level here in Idaho. All agreed the problem is ubiquitous, creeping through every layer of governance and steadily eroding the public’s trust.
Pope Benedict once observed that all institutional corruption begins in the corruption of individual hearts. That simple truth still applies. Once ethical decay takes root in individuals, it becomes embedded in the processes of government itself. “We’ve always done it that way” too often becomes an excuse for excluding citizens from meaningful participation in how policy becomes law.
Today, the symbiotic relationships between agents of special interests and those elected or appointed to serve the public—council members, legislators, and bureaucrats—are troubling. When a citizen has one and a half minutes to speak before a Planning and Zoning Commission while a developer spends months with city planners and attorneys, the imbalance is not merely procedural; it is moral. Every time that happens, citizens’ faith in government weakens a little more.
One member of our group recalled the Spanish tale El Lazarillo de Tormes, written in the 16th century, and a famous episode known as “The Grapes.” In the story, a blind beggar and his young apprentice, Lazarillo, agree to share a bunch of grapes one by one. The blind man soon begins taking two at a time, and Lazarillo, seeing no rebuke, starts taking three. When the grapes are gone, the blind man accuses Lazarillo of cheating.
“How did you know?” the boy asks.
“Because I was eating them two at a time,” the blind man replies, “and you didn’t say a word.”
That story reveals a timeless truth about corruption: silence in the face of wrongdoing is its surest ally. Cunning—whether in politics or survival—is both a weapon and a curse. It may protect the weak, but it also corrodes integrity, placing the deceiver inside the very corruption he opposes.
As our civic processes grow more compromised—ethically and legally—public faith in government erodes. When we the people lose confidence in the process of governance, the process itself becomes corrupting.
It is the duty of political leaders to continually assess their “standard operating procedures.” Each time they cut a corner or adapt the law to suit a favored applicant rather than requiring the applicant to meet the law, the city grows weaker. The next time, it will be easier to do again.
The blind man in El Lazarillo de Tormes knew the boy was cheating because the boy kept silent when the man did. The question for our time is clear: when was the last time a city father—or any public servant—called out the small cheats before they became the system itself?
One reply on “Op-Ed: The Corruption of Process”
It feels like we are seeing this with our leaders in Mtn Home. Little by little the grapes are being taken right under our noses. Using government workers without accountability is theft.