The Clean Hands Argument

unethical behavior often hides behind rules and silence

The Clean Hands Argument

No one steals in daylight anymore,
they borrow with permission,
sign forms written in fog,
wash intent until it shines.

They say, Nothing was broken,
while standing in the doorway,
hands clean from never touching
the thing that fell apart.

Rules are bent into halos.
Silence is framed as courtesy.
Truth is trimmed for professionalism,
until it fits the room.

The loudest crime
is asking why.

Ethics become manners,
manners become muzzles,
and anyone who names the shift
is told they’re being difficult.

Somewhere, wrongdoing learns
to speak softly,
to call itself policy,
to smile while it erases.

And the worst part—
not that it happens,
but how many nod,
relieved it wasn’t them.