Once, I remember, I ran across the case of a boy who had been sentenced to
prison, a poor, scared little brat, who had intended something no worse than
mischief, and it turned out to be a crime. The judge said he disliked to
sentence the lad; it seemed the wrong thing to do; but the law left him no
option. I was struck by this. The judge, then, was doing something as an
official that he would not dream of doing as a man; and he could do it
without any sense of responsibility, or discomfort, simply because he was
acting as an official and not as a man. On this principle of action, it
seemed to me that one could commit almost any kind of crime without getting
into trouble with one’s conscience.
Clearly, a great crime had been committed against this boy; yet nobody who
had had a hand in it — the judge, the jury, the prosecutor, the complaining
witness, the policemen and jailers — felt any responsibility about it,
because they were not acting as men, but as officials. Clearly, too, the
public did not regard them as criminals, but rather as upright and
conscientious men.
The idea came to me then, vaguely but unmistakably, that if the primary
intention of government was not to abolish crime but merely to monopolize
crime, no better device could be found for doing it than the inculcation of
precisely this frame of mind in the officials and in the public; for the
effect of this was to exempt both from any allegiance to those sanctions of
humanity or decency which anyone of either class, acting as an individual,
would have felt himself bound to respect — nay, would have wished to respect.