Equal justice requires one standard of accountability.
A recent New York Times opinion essay about the death of Ruben Ray Martinez argued that his killing raises profound questions about Immigration and Customs Enforcement and the role the agency should play in our society. Reading it led me to ask a different question – not just about one tragedy, but about how we judge all government failures.
If an ICE officer unlawfully takes a life, there should be a full investigation. If wrongdoing occurred, there should be accountability. Government officers entrusted with extraordinary authority must be held to the highest standard.
That should never be controversial.
Neither should this principle: Every preventable death resulting from government failure deserves the same moral seriousness.
My daughter, Katie Abraham, was 20 years old when she was killed by an intoxicated illegal immigrant while visiting friends at the University of Illinois. The driver bears full criminal responsibility for his actions.
Government bears a different kind of responsibility – not criminal responsibility, but constitutional and civic responsibility to faithfully carry out its obligations, enforce the laws it has enacted, and exercise its authority wisely. Evidence presented in open court showed something more than an isolated DUI tragedy. The driver had previously been deported before illegally reentering the United States in 2022, later obtained an Illinois driver’s license while living under a false identity, and now faces separate federal charges arising from those false identities. Katie’s death was not only the result of one man’s crimes. It also exposed a series of government decision points that raise unavoidable questions about accountability.
Over the past 18 months, I have become less troubled by partisan disagreement than by something deeper: our growing inconsistency in judging government failure.
When an ICE officer is accused of wrongfully taking a life, many immediately ask whether the agency itself should be dismantled or fundamentally reimagined.
Yet when government adopts immigration policies that reduce enforcement, limit cooperation with federal authorities, or otherwise create foreseeable gaps in the enforcement of existing law, and those policy choices contribute to preventable tragedies, the response is often very different. Once those choices become government policy, their consequences deserve the same public scrutiny as any other exercise of government power. Too often, each tragedy is treated as an isolated incident rather than prompting an honest examination of whether the policies themselves share responsibility.
Why does one government failure produce demands for sweeping institutional change while another, despite multiple government failures preceding a preventable death, produces little demand for reform?
That is not merely a political question. It is a moral one.
Morality begins with consistency.
A moral society is not defined by the tragedies it mourns. It is defined by whether it applies the same standard of justice to every preventable tragedy. The moment accountability becomes contingent upon ideology, morality begins giving way to power. Citizens no longer judge government by enduring principles. Instead, government and those who shape public opinion begin deciding which failures deserve national outrage and which should simply be accepted.
Government exists to serve the people, not to determine whose suffering deserves public concern.
In America, “We the People” are the sovereign. Government derives its legitimacy from the consent of the governed, and with that legitimacy comes accountability. Accountability cannot depend on which institution failed, which policy is under review, or which political party bears responsibility. The same moral standard must apply to every exercise of government power.
Government can fail in different ways. Sometimes it overreaches and innocent people are harmed. Sometimes it underperforms by failing to carry out its basic responsibilities. Different failures may require different remedies, but neither should escape scrutiny simply because one aligns more comfortably with our political preferences.
This is not about choosing one victim over another.
Ruben Martinez’s family deserves answers.
Katie’s family deserved them too.
Every family whose life has been permanently altered by preventable government failure deserves the same commitment to truth, accountability, and reform.
Every public policy creates both intended and unintended consequences. Honest governance requires the humility to measure both. Compassion asks us to consider those who may benefit from a policy. Wisdom requires us to acknowledge those who may also be harmed by it. A mature democracy refuses to erase either side of that ledger.
For years, immigration has largely been debated through the language of compassion. Compassion is essential, but compassion without wisdom can become recklessness. If we count only the human costs of immigration enforcement while refusing to examine the human costs of failed enforcement or other government policy failures, we are not conducting a moral accounting. We are conducting a political one.
The New York Times essay challenged readers to think deeply about the costs of immigration enforcement.
It succeeded.
It also prompted me to ask whether we are willing to apply that same moral urgency to every preventable death resulting from government action, or government inaction. That is the real test.
The question is not whether Ruben Ray Martinez deserved accountability. He did.
The question is not whether Katie Abraham deserved accountability. She did.
The question is whether Americans still believe government should answer to one consistent moral standard. If accountability changes with ideology, then principle has already begun yielding to power.
But if “We the People” insist upon one standard for every government failure – whether it arises from excessive force, failed enforcement, or failed public policy – we preserve something far greater than a political argument. We preserve the moral foundation of self-government.
That is how a constitutional republic endures.
