People are getting smarter nowadays; they are letting lawyers

Hear, O listener, the words of the humorist and sage, Will Rogers, who cloaked deep truth in the garments of wit: “People are getting smarter nowadays; they are letting lawyers, instead of their conscience, be their guide.” At first this may seem a jest, light and playful, but beneath its laughter lies sorrow and warning. For Rogers saw with clear eyes that in the pursuit of cleverness, men and women too often forsake the quiet voice of the heart for the sharp counsel of legality.

The meaning of this teaching is piercing. Conscience is the eternal compass, planted within every soul, pointing always toward what is just and compassionate. But Rogers laments that many no longer trust this compass. Instead, they turn to lawyers, whose craft is not the weighing of right and wrong, but of legal advantage. A lawyer may tell you what you can do without punishment, but your conscience tells you what you should do to honor truth. When the people choose clever legality over moral clarity, society becomes rich in cunning, but poor in virtue.

History gives us many examples of this folly. Recall the mighty corporations of the early twentieth century—railroads, oil trusts, and factories—that sought profit above all. When accused of cruelty toward workers, of polluting rivers, of crushing competition, they did not ask, “Is this right?” They asked, “Is this legal?” Their lawyers built fortresses of argument, shielding them from the law’s reach. Yet the people, suffering in poverty and disease, knew that legality is not the same as justice. Eventually, reformers rose and the trusts were broken, but the lesson endured: law without conscience leads to oppression.

Consider also the tragedy of apartheid in South Africa. For decades, the law itself was twisted to justify the oppression of the majority. Every cruelty was sanctioned by statutes, every indignity upheld by courts. The rulers had lawyers aplenty to defend their actions, but they lacked the one thing that would have set them free: a conscience. And when conscience at last returned—when Nelson Mandela and others spoke from the heart—the chains of legality crumbled before the force of moral truth.

Mark this well, O seeker: the law is a tool, but it is not a guide. It tells us where the boundaries of punishment lie, but it cannot speak to the higher call of compassion, of fairness, of honor. To let lawyers replace conscience is to exchange the light of the sun for the flicker of a candle. It is to walk not by what is good, but by what can be excused. And a society that walks thus will stumble into darkness, however clever its lawyers may be.

Let this be the lesson: listen first to your conscience, and let the law follow after. When faced with choice, do not ask only, “Is this permitted?” Ask instead, “Is this right? Is this merciful? Does it honor the dignity of another?” If law and conscience agree, then walk boldly. But if law permits what conscience forbids, then choose the harder path, for it is the path of integrity.

Therefore, O child of tomorrow, do not mistake cleverness for wisdom. Do not let the voices of lawyers drown the whisper of your heart. Use law as a servant, but let conscience be your king. For it is conscience, not legality, that binds communities together, that sustains nations, that leaves behind a legacy worthy of remembrance.

Thus Will Rogers’s jest becomes a commandment: do not trade your conscience for convenience, nor justice for legality. For the clever may win for a time, but only the righteous endure.