The Long Way Home 2.13.26

The rich and powerful write the rules but often fail to follow them, highlighting a core problem: those shaping our society are rarely held to the same standards as everyone else. 

As the scandalous Epstein documents came out recently, I was wondering if the people whose names are behind the black boxes feel any shame. Do they regret “partying” with the world’s most despicable money-laundering sexual predator?

One of the released documents is a draft email Epstein wrote, in which he made several explosive, unverified claims. One claim alleged that Bill Gates of Microsoft riches got a sexually transmitted infection (STI) after encounters with Epstein’s "Russian girls." Gates denied the allegations, calling them "absurd and completely false." He suggested Epstein was attempting to defame or extort him after their relationship soured.  In a recent interview with NPR, Melinda French Gates, his ex-wife, noted that Gates’s association with Epstein was a significant factor in their 2021 divorce.

We don’t do too well making powerful figures in this country regret abhorrent mistakes in judgment and character. The Brits are better suited. 

In Britain, the "Epstein Files" release has triggered a major crisis, reaching beyond tabloid gossip to criminal investigations and a potential government collapse. Prince Andrew, brother of King Charles III, was exiled from public life after the DOJ files alleged Epstein trafficked a second woman to the UK in 2010, specifically for Andrew at Royal Lodge.

The British public was most shocked by the Epstein scandal's links to Peter Mandelson, a leading Labour figure. The Metropolitan Police launched a criminal investigation, citing emails implying Mandelson leaked sensitive market information to Epstein in 2009 while a government minister, including on a secret plan to support the euro.

Prime Minister Keir Starmer faces calls to resign after critics cited "appalling judgment" for appointing Mandelson as UK Ambassador to the U.S., despite his Epstein connections. Mandelson was dismissed in late 2025 amid further documents emerging.

This deadly global cocktail of cash and ego has left Britain’s elite facing a brutal reckoning. Their public masks are slipping fast. Maybe, in time, these excessively wealthy plutocrats will fall from grace and be held to account for their despicable behaviour. 

Political scandals often involve the abuse of power, corruption, or personal indiscretion that compromises public trust. We have some history in this country of once-idolized and vaunted figures brought to a reckoning. 

Wisconsin Senator Joseph McCarthy was a darling of the anti-commie crowd after World War II. By the mid-fifties, his colleagues censured him, he was drunk all the time, and he’d lost all political influence. Not 20 years later, Nixon was exposed for covering up the Watergate burglary, among other indiscretions, and resigned before Congress could fire him. 

In 1987, Colorado Senator Gary Hart withdrew from the Democratic Presidential primary contest. Pictures surfaced of him enjoying a bit of marital infidelity on the boat “Monkey Business.” Twenty years later, North Carolina Senator John Edwards ended his political career. He concealed a marital affair that produced a child during his run for the Dems presidential nomination.

In my short lifetime, there is no shortage of political figures, business tycoons, and celebrities, well-known or not, who have come to regret major anti-social and criminal choices that ultimately led to their downfall. Shame never seems to visit them.

Most of these cases illustrate what I call the 'Scandal Cycle,' showing how the powerful navigate controversy through calculated moves that rarely lead to real accountability.  

It begins with a sudden "shock to the system," a document or audio/video leak, a whistleblower, or an investigative report. The miscreant tries to stop the bleeding, claiming the allegations are too crazy to be true. President Trump said, "She’s not my type," to deny allegations made by E. Jean Carroll, who accused him of sexual assault in the mid-90s. 

The scoundrels always claim to have followed all laws. When that doesn’t silence things, they point out the flaws of the accuser or the media.

As the initial scandal gains traction, additional scandals emerge—secondary stories about the figure's past behavior that were previously unknown or ignored, that are now seen as relevant. Eventually, the public reaches "outrage fatigue." The scandal fades, or is replaced by a more outrageous scandal. The perpetrator's name becomes shorthand for the scandal itself, permanently staining their legacy while harming the rest of us.

Given this ongoing pattern, it is no surprise that I find myself questioning those in power and wondering whether true accountability is possible.