Flattening the Laws

Let me start with a thought that sounds simple, but is hard to live out:
Truth isn’t only something you know. It’s something you do.
Truth, lived properly, is integrity — being the same person in private as in public; doing the right thing even when it would be easier, or more profitable, not to.
So here’s the question I want to put to you:
If you could achieve a really good outcome by doing something wrong, would you do it?
If the aim is noble — protecting people, ending oppression, stopping suffering — does that make the wrong action acceptable?
That question isn’t theoretical. It’s being argued about right now.
In early January, the world watched dramatic events in Venezuela: the United States carried out an operation in Caracas, captured President Nicolás Maduro, and announced it would oversee a transition. Some people responded, “Good — if this helps a suffering nation and disrupts criminal networks, the outcome is worth it.” Others responded, “Even if you believe the goal is good, breaking international law and overriding another country’s sovereignty undermines the very rules that protect smaller nations from stronger ones.”
And here’s the danger: once we accept the principle that “we can break the rules when our cause is good,” we’ve created a permission slip that anyone can use — including people with very bad intentions.
That brings me to A Man for All Seasons.
There’s a famous scene where St Thomas More is speaking to William Roper, who is furious about evil and wants to chase it down at any cost. Roper says he’d “cut down every law in England” to get after the Devil. And More replies, in effect: if you flatten the laws, then when the Devil turns on you, where will you hide — with all the laws flattened?
More’s point isn’t that laws are perfect, or that rules matter more than people. It’s that just laws are protections. They restrain power. They stop “might makes right.” They protect the vulnerable — and one day, they may protect you.
And the story becomes even more powerful because More isn’t making this argument from a safe armchair. Later, the machinery of the state turns against him. He is tried for treason, refuses to betray conscience, and is executed in 1535 — which is why the Church remembers him as a martyr: someone who witnesses to truth at the highest cost.
Now bring this back to us, here, today.
We face the same moral problem, just on a smaller scale:
- “Is it okay to cheat, because the grade really matters?”
- “Is it okay to lie, because I need to protect my reputation?”
- “Is it okay to break a rule, because my cause is good and I’m sure I’m right?”
- “Is it okay to damage someone else with gossip, because it helps my group?”
Every one of those is the same temptation: the end justifies the means.
So here’s the conclusion — clearly.
A Christian response to that question is:
No. The ends do not justify the means.
And because truth matters, just laws should be respected and not broken, even in pursuit of a good aim.
That is Veritas: not just truth in words, but truth in action — integrity that chooses the right goal, pursued in the right way.