Transparency is not about restoring trust in institutions.

“Transparency is not about restoring trust in institutions. Transparency is the politics of managing mistrust.” Thus spoke Ivan Krastev, a thinker of our own time, yet his words strike with the resonance of timeless wisdom. For in them lies a sober reflection on the state of humanity’s bonds with its rulers and its institutions: that trust, once broken, cannot be repaired by sunlight alone, and that transparency, though valuable, is often but a tool to contain suspicion, not to kindle faith.

The ancients knew this truth, though they clothed it in other garments. The Roman Senate, though mighty, lost the people’s confidence not through secrecy alone, but through corruption and betrayal. No number of public decrees or open assemblies could heal the wound once the citizens believed their rulers served themselves, not Rome. Thus Krastev reminds us: transparency is not the cure for betrayal, but the balm to soothe a wounded people, to show that even in mistrust, the game of power is visible, not hidden.

Consider the story of Watergate in modern times. The scandal revealed the abuse of power in the highest office of the United States. Afterward, laws were passed to increase openness, to demand disclosures and reporting, to make visible the workings of government. Yet did this restore trust? Not fully. The shadow of suspicion lingered. What transparency did achieve was not the return of innocence, but the careful management of doubt: citizens, no longer fully trusting, could at least watch and measure, holding power accountable under constant gaze.

Thus the meaning is clear: transparency is not a return to Eden, but the discipline of vigilance. It acknowledges that human beings, wounded by deceit, will not easily surrender their suspicion. Institutions may show their workings, may open their books, may reveal their secrets, but the faith once broken is not so easily reborn. Instead, transparency becomes a framework in which mistrust can live without devouring the whole of society. It is a covenant not of blind faith, but of wary oversight.

There is wisdom here for our own relationships as well. When a friend or a partner breaks trust, the bond cannot be healed by words alone. Only by consistent openness, by transparency of action and motive, can mistrust be managed until, in time, trust may grow again—or not. Krastev’s insight reveals the same law at work in both nations and hearts: trust is built by character, but once broken, transparency is the discipline that keeps suspicion from consuming all.

The lesson for us, O children of the future, is this: do not mistake transparency for trust. Openness of institutions, of leaders, and of people is necessary, but it is not sufficient. True trust is born of integrity, of fidelity proven again and again, often in silence and humility. Transparency is a shield, but trust is a bond; the one defends against betrayal, the other transforms society into a community.

Practical wisdom follows: when you lead, whether in family, in work, or in governance, be open in your deeds, for this manages suspicion. But more than this, live with integrity, so that over time mistrust fades and true trust may return. Do not despise transparency, for it guards against the worst, but do not idolize it, for it cannot summon the best. Work first to be faithful, then to be open, and let trust rise not by decree but by devotion.

So let Krastev’s words endure: “Transparency is the politics of managing mistrust.” Take them not as despair, but as a sober reminder. Build systems that shine with openness, yes, but strive for lives that shine with honesty. For only then will mistrust be contained, and only then, slowly, may trust once more be born.