When justice becomes selective in America, no one is safe

A lion trained to eat black chickens will eat white chickens when it is hungry.

The release of the man responsible for Renee Nicole Good’s death has struck a nerve across the United States, not only because of the tragedy itself but because of what it symbolizes. When a system appears to excuse or minimize violence committed by those in positions of authority, it sends a dangerous message: impunity is negotiable.

Many fear that such decisions embolden agencies like ICE to act with even less restraint, knowing accountability is inconsistent and often politically selective. A week ago, you urged Americans to respect the office of the presidency, regardless of their personal feelings toward Donald Trump.

Some readers misunderstood me, but the point I raised is bigger than any single political figure. I questioned Americans to confront a contradiction: how can a nation protest abuses committed by its own institutions today while ignoring or even supporting similar abuses inflicted on vulnerable populations or developing countries for decades?

The United States and its Western allies have long been involved in policies that destabilize developing nations, exploit their resources, and undermine their sovereignty. These actions rarely provoke outrage at home, yet when similar patterns of mistreatment begin to surface domestically, the shock is sudden and selective.

If Americans had consistently opposed injustice, whether against African-Americans, immigrants, or communities in developing countries, the current climate of institutional aggression might never have taken root. When a society tolerates or rationalizes harm against one group, it inadvertently normalizes the mechanisms of oppression.

Eventually, those same mechanisms can be redirected toward anyone, including the very citizens who once felt insulated by them. Power, once unrestrained, does not discriminate.

A lion trained to eat only black chickens will eventually eat white ones when hunger strikes. This captures a universal truth about systems of abuse. Once a structure is built to dehumanize or dominate, it does not remain confined to its original targets. History shows that unchecked power expands, adapts, and ultimately consumes whatever stands in its path.

The lesson is not about race alone; it is about the predictable behavior of institutions that operate without accountability. At the heart of the message is a simple but urgent principle: equality is not optional. A society that wants to protect its own citizens must first reject injustice everywhere, not only when it becomes personally inconvenient.

True justice requires consistency, empathy, and the courage to confront uncomfortable truths about one’s own nation. Until that happens, the cycle of selective outrage and selective justice will continue, and tragedies like Renee Nicole Good’s case will remain symptoms of a deeper moral failure.