Personally, I have detested Gordon Brown since the moment in

In the ever-complicated world of politics and public life, there often arises a tension between personal morality and the actions of those who hold power. Justin Cartwright’s words, “Personally, I have detested Gordon Brown since the moment in 2001 when he tried to make cheap capital out of the Laura Spence affair; as his troubles have piled up, I have felt no sympathy for him at all,” are a reflection of the deep resentment and disdain that can arise when an individual perceives another’s misdeeds as morally unjust. In this statement, Cartwright speaks not just of a politician's actions, but of the human tendency to judge others by their ethical choices and to withhold sympathy when those choices conflict with our sense of what is right. This tension—between the judgment of others and the compassion we are sometimes called to show—is an ancient theme, one that has reverberated through the ages.

In ancient Greece, the concept of justice was central to both philosophy and politics. Plato and Aristotle debated the nature of justice and how it should be applied in both individual lives and the functioning of the state. Justice, in their eyes, was not merely about fairness, but about upholding moral principles that reflect the good of society as a whole. Aristotle, in his Nicomachean Ethics, argued that moral integrity was not just about what is right in the moment, but about creating a habituation to the good. If one acted unjustly, as Cartwright suggests Gordon Brown did in his handling of the Laura Spence affair, the individual becomes morally flawed, and thus, sympathy is withheld. To Aristotle, the moral character of a person defined their worth, and the more they strayed from justice, the less likely they were to receive sympathy from others.

This idea of moral judgment is echoed in the ancient Roman tradition of civic virtue, which emphasized that those in power must act in ways that align with the greater good of society. Cicero, the renowned statesman and philosopher, believed that virtue was the cornerstone of a just society, and that leaders were to be judged by their ability to embody these virtues. In his speeches and writings, Cicero often spoke of the duty of citizens to hold their leaders accountable, and the role of morality in shaping political actions. Just as Cartwright’s quote reflects a deep disdain for Brown’s political maneuvering, so too did Cicero call for the moral reckoning of those who acted against the public good. In the case of the Laura Spence affair, where Brown sought to exploit a young woman’s university rejection for political gain, Cartwright’s moral judgment aligns with the age-old call for accountability in leadership.

History offers countless examples of leaders whose actions have led to widespread contempt due to their immoral decisions. Consider Julius Caesar, whose ambition and drive for power led him to commit many morally dubious acts in the name of securing his rule. While his actions were justified by some as necessary for the stability of the Roman state, many, especially those close to him, saw them as treacherous and unjust. His eventual assassination by his closest allies—Brutus and others—was a direct response to their perception of moral betrayal. It serves as a powerful reminder that history, both ancient and modern, judges individuals not merely by their achievements, but by the ethics and integrity behind their actions. Just as Caesar’s downfall was tied to his perceived moral failings, Cartwright’s view of Brown is similarly shaped by the belief that Brown acted unjustly and without integrity.

But the lesson we must draw from Cartwright’s words is not just about the judgment of others, but about the role of sympathy in our own lives. Sympathy, while often a virtue, can sometimes cloud our judgment, particularly when it is extended to those who act with selfishness or deceit. While Cicero and Aristotle would remind us of the importance of acting with moral integrity, they would also urge us to recognize that moral character is not always an isolated measure—it is woven into the very fabric of our relationships with others. Sympathy is not always about understanding the pain of others, but also about acknowledging when an individual’s actions have caused harm, and making the difficult decision to withhold compassion if it compromises one’s own sense of moral clarity.

In our own lives, the challenge is clear: we must learn to judge actions with both wisdom and compassion. While Cartwright may choose to withhold sympathy for Gordon Brown due to his ethical misstep, we must be mindful not to let this judgment turn into a vengeful spirit, but rather let it guide us toward a better understanding of justice and leadership in our own actions. Like the great thinkers of the ancient world, we must develop the strength to hold others accountable, but we must also retain the ability to forgive and show compassion when it is deserved. To lead with integrity and to support others in doing the same is not an easy task, but it is one that leads to a more just and virtuous society.

Thus, as we navigate the complexities of morality in the modern world, let us remember that true leadership is built not just on achievements, but on the moral integrity of those who lead. In our own lives, we must judge actions wisely, balancing justice and sympathy, and holding ourselves accountable to the same ethical standards we set for others. Let us aspire to lead lives that will stand up to the judgment of history, and, like Cicero and Aristotle, act in ways that honor the moral good of society and the individual.