Robert Spencer has given a compelling historical perspective on corruption, using the example of Publius Helvius Pertinax, a Roman Emperor who reigned briefly in 193 CE, to illustrate a broader point: corruption tends to dominate societies across time unless a concerted, full-scale effort is made to eradicate it.
Pertinax's story is a microcosm of the systemic corruption that plagued the Roman Empire. After the assassination of the notoriously decadent Emperor Commodus, Pertinax, a respected senator and military leader, ascended to the throne with a mandate for reform. He was known for his integrity and sought to address the rampant corruption that had festered under Commodus, including the excesses of the Praetorian Guard, the elite military unit that often acted as a kingmaker in Roman politics. Pertinax attempted to restore fiscal responsibility, curb the Guard's influence, and govern with fairness. However, his reforms threatened entrenched interests, and within just 86 days, he was murdered by the very Praetorian Guard he sought to reform. His successor, Didius Julianus, infamously bought the throne in an auction held by the Guard, a stark symbol of how deeply corruption had taken root.
This episode highlights a recurring theme: corruption often becomes so ingrained in a society's power structures that even well-intentioned leaders face immense resistance when trying to dismantle it. Pertinax's failure wasn't due to a lack of vision or effort but rather the absence of a broad, sustained campaign to uproot the systemic issues. The Praetorian Guard, the senators, and other elites had grown accustomed to a system that rewarded loyalty to corrupt practices over the public good. Without a comprehensive effort to dismantle these structures—through legal, cultural, and institutional reforms—corruption reasserted itself almost immediately after Pertinax's death.
Looking beyond Rome, history provides countless examples of corruption dominating societies when left unchecked. In medieval Europe, the Catholic Church, which held immense power, became mired in corruption through practices like the sale of indulgences—essentially allowing the wealthy to buy forgiveness for sins. This practice enriched the Church but alienated the faithful, eventually contributing to the Protestant Reformation in the 16th century. The Reformation itself was a full-scale effort to "clean up" the Church's corruption, led by figures like Martin Luther, who challenged the status quo at great personal risk. Without such a movement, the Church's corrupt practices might have persisted even longer.
Similarly, in the 18th and 19th centuries, the British Empire grappled with systemic corruption in its colonial administration. The East India Company, which effectively governed India for Britain, was notorious for its officials' exploitation of local populations, amassing personal fortunes through bribery and extortion. It wasn't until the British government intervened with reforms—such as the Regulating Act of 1773 and the eventual dissolution of the Company's rule in 1858, that these practices were curbed. These reforms required a sustained, multi-decade effort involving legal changes, oversight mechanisms, and a shift in public attitudes toward colonial governance.
Fast forward to the modern era, and the pattern holds. In many countries, corruption remains a pervasive force unless actively combated. For example, in the 20th century, Italy faced the "Mani Pulite" (Clean Hands) investigation in the 1990s, which uncovered widespread bribery and political corruption involving top officials and business leaders. This investigation led to the collapse of entire political parties and the prosecution of thousands, but it required a massive, coordinated effort by judges, prosecutors, and a public fed up with the status quo. Even then, corruption in Italy has not been fully eradicated, as subsequent scandals like those involving Silvio Berlusconi demonstrate. Without continuous vigilance, corrupt practices tend to resurface.
In contrast, countries like Singapore show what a full-scale effort can achieve. After gaining independence in 1965, Singapore's government, under Lee Kuan Yew, made anti-corruption a top priority. The Corrupt Practices Investigation Bureau (CPIB) was empowered to investigate and prosecute without fear or favour, and strict laws were enacted to deter bribery. Public servants were paid competitive salaries to reduce the incentive for corruption, and a culture of transparency was fostered. As a result, Singapore transformed from a corruption-ridden port city into one of the least corrupt nations in the world, consistently ranking high on Transparency International's Corruption Perceptions Index. This success story underscores the necessity of a comprehensive, sustained effort to combat corruption—half-measures simply don't suffice.
Corruption thrives in the absence of accountability because it aligns with human nature's baser instincts: greed, self-interest, and the desire for power. As the passage notes, soldiers in the Roman Empire grew accustomed to "lavish amounts of money" under corrupt leaders, making them resistant to Pertinax's reforms. This dynamic is universal. When corrupt systems reward those who participate—whether through wealth, status, or power, they create a self-perpetuating cycle. Those who benefit from corruption have every incentive to maintain the status quo, while those who oppose it, like Pertinax, often lack the resources or support to enact lasting change.
Moreover, corruption often embeds itself in a society's institutions, making it difficult to dislodge without a multi-pronged approach. In Rome, the Praetorian Guard wasn't just a group of soldiers; it was a political institution with deep ties to the elite. In modern contexts, corruption often involves networks of politicians, bureaucrats, and business leaders who protect each other. Dismantling such networks requires not just individual reformers but systemic changes: independent judiciaries, free media, transparent governance, and a public willing to demand accountability.
The Spencer's broader argument—that corruption dominates unless a "full-on effort" is made to clean up—is borne out by history. Partial or superficial reforms often fail because they don't address the root causes of corruption. Pertinax, for instance, tried to reform the Praetorian Guard but lacked the time and support to fundamentally alter its role in Roman politics. Similarly, in many modern democracies, anti-corruption measures like campaign finance reforms or ethics laws are often watered down by the very politicians they're meant to regulate, rendering them ineffective.
A full-scale effort, by contrast, involves multiple layers of action: legal reforms to punish corruption, institutional changes to prevent it, cultural shifts to stigmatise it, and leadership committed to seeing the process through. It also requires public engagement, corruption often persists because citizens become apathetic or complicit, as seen in the Roman soldiers' preference for corrupt leaders who paid them well. When societies mobilise against corruption, as in Singapore or during Italy's Mani Pulite investigations, real change becomes possible.
Corruption has been a persistent force across societies and eras, from ancient Rome to the modern world, because it exploits human weaknesses and embeds itself in power structures. The story of Pertinax illustrates how even well-meaning leaders can be overwhelmed by entrenched corruption when they lack the resources or support for a comprehensive clean-up. History shows that without a full-scale, sustained effort, encompassing legal, institutional, and cultural reforms, corruption will continue to dominate, eroding trust, fairness, and the public good. Only through relentless, collective action can societies hope to break this cycle and build systems that prioritise integrity over self-interest.
https://pjmedia.com/robert-spencer/2025/04/03/the-doge-emperor-n4938571
"See if any of this sounds familiar: a great nation, indeed, the world's only superpower, is beset by turmoil, as a corrupt political class grows more interested in enriching itself than in performing any actual public service. Finally, a new leader emerges who has a long and distinguished record in other fields, but is not a career politician. Citizens who are deeply concerned about the direction of the country put their faith in this unlikely reformer and manage to secure the top spot for him, but the corrupt elements are supremely powerful and deeply entrenched. They refuse to accept the new leader and fight back fiercely against his efforts to restore competence and honesty to the government.
I am, of course, speaking about Publius Helvius Pertinax, who was the emperor of Rome from Jan. 1, 193, to March 28, 193. In his all too brief reign at the helm of the magnificent empire, Pertinax tried to turn around the mighty ship of state and draw it out of the morass of corruption into which he had fallen. One of his contemporaries, the historian and Roman Senator Cassius Dio, said that Pertinax was "an excellent and upright man" and a fine emperor as well, who during his three-month tenure demonstrated "not only humaneness and integrity in the imperial administrations, but also the most economical management and the most careful consideration for the public welfare."
Writing over thirteen centuries later, Niccolò Machiavelli wrote in his notorious manual of power politics, "The Prince," that Pertinax was one of three Roman emperors of his time who were "men of modest life, lovers of justice, enemies to cruelty, humane, and benignant." This did not, however, play well in the empire of his day. The soldiers of the Roman Empire, "being accustomed to live licentiously under Commodus," who was Pertinax's free-spending predecessor, "could not endure the honest life to which Pertinax wished to reduce them."
This was understandable. The thing about corruption is that it, well, corrupts. Once soldiers get accustomed to getting lavish amounts of money under the table for various favors, it is difficult to compel them to be content with their relatively meager official salary alone.
And it wasn't just the soldiers. The Roman Emperors site notes that "Pertinax's reign was characterized by his attempts to reverse the excesses and corruption of Commodus' rule. He immediately set about reforming the administration, cutting down on the extravagance that had characterized the previous regime." Shades of DOGE. Pertinax also "sought to restore discipline within the Praetorian Guard and the broader military, which had become increasingly unruly under Commodus. Pertinax also attempted to implement financial reforms, aiming to replenish the depleted imperial treasury through austerity measures and the sale of Commodus' extravagant possessions."
While anyone who was aware of the empire's former glory welcomed these reforms, the beneficiaries of the corruption were less happy: "Pertinax's reforms were met with resistance from multiple quarters. The Praetorian Guard, in particular, had grown accustomed to the bribes and favors they had received during Commodus' reign. Pertinax's attempts to impose discipline and reduce their influence were deeply unpopular. The Guard, which had played a key role in the assassination of Commodus, was now wary of any emperor who might threaten their privileged position."
Making matters even worse was the fact that "Pertinax's efforts to restore financial discipline alienated many in the Roman elite. His attempts to collect overdue taxes and recover state property from wealthy individuals who had benefitted under Commodus made him enemies among the Senate and the aristocracy. These powerful groups saw Pertinax as a threat to their wealth and influence and began plotting against him."
Yeah, you're right, this could be a terrific movie. Cast Trump as Pertinax, Chuck Schumer and Nancy Pelosi as his enemies among the Senate and aristocracy, Old Joe Biden (or maybe Barack Obama) as Commodus, and Mark Milley as the angry head of the Praetorian Guard. The worst part, however, is that Pertinax did not succeed; the Praetorian Guard assassinated him on March 28, 193, and the empire descended into chaos. The imperial throne was sold off to the highest bidder, Didius Julianus, who was himself murdered on June 2, 193.
Of course, the effort to reform the American government may not have the same sad ending. There is no doubt, however, that those who have fattened at the public trough in the U.S. for so many decades are not giving up easily, and will continue trying to throw every possible roadblock in Trump's path as he attempts to restore honest government. May he succeed where Pertinax failed."