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Sins we normalize: when corruption becomes a lifestyle

There was a time when wrongdoing had a sense of shame attached to it. When moral failure prompted public concern and corruption whether in government or everyday life was seen as a vice to resist. But somewhere along the way, corruption stopped shocking us. We didn’t merely accept it. We adapted to it. Today, corruption is not just an act, it is a lifestyle. And worse, it has become a shared vocabulary of survival in our society. Nagaland, like many other regions grappling with prolonged socio-political instability and development fatigue faces a moral crisis that’s not just about the actions of the powerful but about the collective conscience of the people. This article is not an indictment of individuals but a reflection on a system and a culture that now runs on compromise, cleverness and quiet consent.
The banality of corruption: Political theorist Hannah Arendt once spoke of the “banality of evil” in the context of atrocities committed not by monsters but by ordinary people obeying the system. In a similar way, the corruption we face today is not always dramatic or hidden in dark corners- it is boring, predictable and everywhere. It has become mundane. Public schemes meant for for the many occasionally find their way into the hands of a few. It’s not rare to hear people joke about how things get done only through “adjustment,” “setting,” or “percentage cuts.” These aren’t fringe practices- they are the rule. More concerning than corruption itself is the way we have come to live with it. When wrong becomes routine, right becomes irrelevant.
When character takes a back seat: Corruption does not begin in a government office. It begins in the heart. It begins the moment character is sidelined in favor of convenience, when ethical decisions are seen as foolish and when shortcuts become skill-sets. We teach our children to aim for success, to get ahead in life and to be clever but not always to be honest. We admire people who rise quickly but we seldom question the route they took. When people cut corners and benefit from it, we often describe them as “smart,” not dishonest. Across society, we have begun to reward efficiency, not integrity. We see cheating as a strategy. Hoarding is called good business. Unfair gain is mistaken for favor. In doing so, we have quietly converted moral failure into social advantage. Sadly, even religious spaces have not remained untouched. When leaders remain silent in the face of injustice or when sacred platforms are used for personal privilege rather than public truth, we risk turning faith into ceremony, stripped of the power to challenge wrongdoing. Spirituality becomes routine rather than radical.
A society shaped by compromise: Corruption is not the domain of a few, it is the reflection of a collective condition. It spreads because it is tolerated at all levels. From those who benefit from broken systems to those who look the other way, a web of quiet compromise holds everything in place. People often justify their actions by saying, “This is how things work,” or “We have no choice,” or “Everyone does it.” These words signal more than resignation, they signal a loss of moral direction. A culture of helplessness sets in, where corruption is seen not as evil but as inevitable. And when the line between right and wrong becomes blurry, society starts to lose its moral compass. In such a climate, truth-tellers are seen as troublemakers. Honest people are labeled “too idealistic.” Integrity becomes a burden rather than a badge. Over time, the community forgets not only how to stand for what is right but even how to care. One local observer once remarked, “In our society, the honest survive but they never succeed.” What was once a cynical joke is now a painful reality.
Cultural excuses and religious immunity: Perhaps one of the most dangerous developments in our context is how corruption has been given cultural and even religious cover. We justify it by saying “everyone does it,” “this is our system,” or “we have no choice.” Cultural fatalism becomes an excuse for moral failure. Even religious language has been co-opted to bless questionable gains. How often have we heard people say “God has blessed us” after landing a government tender or receiving a backdoor job? When unethical success is seen as divine favor, we lose the very meaning of spiritual integrity. In such a climate, whistle-blowers are seen as troublemakers and honest people are mocked for being “too idealistic.” Integrity becomes a liability. And over time, society loses its moral memory unable to tell right from wrong. The cost of silence: The normalization of sin especially institutional sin has a cumulative cost. It weakens civic responsibility. It makes collective progress impossible. It divides communities and breeds resentment. Most of all, it kills any vision of a just society. Our silence is not neutral. It is permission. When we laugh off corruption, we participate in it. When we allow small wrongs to go unchecked, we build immunity to larger crimes. And when we stop hoping for change, we resign ourselves to a cycle of generational injustice. Silence allows the corrupt to thrive and the honest to suffer. And eventually, we become a society where truth is negotiable and conscience is expendable.
From normalization to resistance: There is still hope. But it requires more than good intentions. It requires the painful courage to resist what is normal. To speak up when it’s unpopular. To teach our children that success without integrity is failure. To reform institutions and demand transparency even when the cost is high. The revival we often talk about in church must extend to the public square. Prayer must be matched with protest. Fasting must be paired with fearless honesty.
Holiness must translate into how we sign contracts, manage budgets and treat our neighbors. Corruption is not inevitable. But unless we unlearn the sins we have normalized, it will remain our default mode of existence. And then, no policy, no election, no development plan will be able to save us. The question is not whether corruption exists. We know it does.
The question is, have we accepted it as a way of life? And if so, are we willing to break the cycle? History is made not only by revolutions but also by refusal- refusing to cheat, refusing to stay silent and refusing to normalize what should never be acceptable. Because once we stop being shocked by sin, we start living in it.
Dr. Bendangliba Andrew
Mokokchung