“Socrates died for mankind’s sins; Jesus Christ had better publicists.”

Socrates once observed that misanthropy often arises from an overreaction to the deceit and callousness that overly sensitive individuals experience from those they cherish deeply or trust completely. Unable to accept that such experiences—though unavoidable—represent only a small fraction of all social interactions, such individuals grow cynical toward humanity and blame human nature itself for the betrayals that cause their suffering.

Ironically, after being convicted of “failing to acknowledge the gods that the city acknowledges” and “introducing new deities”, when his influential disciples attempted to break him out of prison on the night before his scheduled execution by hemlock, Socrates chose to drink the hemlock even as they tried to rescue him—so deeply had his faith in humanity been shaken. Fittingly, he addressed his disciples with the following final words:

“The hour of departure has arrived, and we go our separate ways—I to die, and you to live. Which is better, God only knows.”

During his trial, Socrates openly derided the jurors for participating in what he regarded as a hoax; he believed he was duty-bound to do so. At the same time, he appealed to their innate rationality and urged them to perform their duty earnestly, stating:

“I do not think that it is right for a man to appeal to the jury’s sentiments to secure his acquittal; he ought to inform them of the facts and convince them by argument.
The jury does not sit to dispense justice as a favour, but to determine where justice lies. The oath which they have sworn is not to show favour at their own discretion, but to return a just and lawful verdict.
Therefore, you must not expect me, gentlemen, to behave towards you in a way which I consider neither reputable nor moral nor consistent with my religious duty.”

Ultimately, when the jury convicted Socrates and sentenced him to death, he proclaimed that, although misguided men had condemned him, their wickedness and depravity had earned them the condemnation of Truth itself.

He rebuked his executioners for presuming that they could punish him with death, as though they possessed any knowledge of what fate awaited him beyond the veil.

Moreover, he derided them for believing that his execution could permanently silence the condemnation of their wrongdoing. He prophesied that, on the contrary, the critics who succeeded him would be more belligerent in their demeanour and more acerbic in their criticism.

The publishers of Rule O’Flaw are here to help fulfil that prophecy and avenge Socrates’ death. We aim to demonstrate that the inherent moral frailty of the human mind renders contemporary judicial systems fundamentally incapable of reliably administering justice in all circumstances.

These systems can be predictably manipulated by institutions that wield significant influence over their operations—either by deliberate design or through the unintended consequences of the practical contexts in which they function.

More than two millennia after Socrates’ death, the same psychological forces that make innocent people vulnerable to lynching by mobs continue to imperil their quest for justice in the courtroom.