Spiritual policing: 'sub-crime' and 'super-crime'

How divinity, discernment, and discretion are needed for reform of policing

A recent conversation with a former police officer has prompted me to draw together several threads of thought on the subject of reform of our justice system. Covid has demonstrated a catastrophic failure of the police and courts to protect the public from predation by a the executive and legislature. A completely unenforceable and unconstitutional statute, the Coronavirus Act 2020, was used to bludgeon the public into submission, giving the police the veneer of legitimate action. While this may be because they are all infiltrated and answer to the same corrupt foreign powers, there is meant to be an oath of service that constables take to uphold the law, which is not the same as statute legislation.

This situation could be framed as “super-crime”, where the instruments of the state are used to commit criminal acts in the name of laudable goals like public safety. Another super-crime example here in the UK at present is Council Tax, which is essentially state-endorsed slavery by a statutory levy to merely exist and have shelter. It has been proven in court that there is no obligation to tell councils when you move in or out of a home, so logically there is no obligation to pay, since you will never be billed if you stay silent. Councils with no more taxation powers than supermarkets use subversive coercion to get you to interact and contract with them. Fraudulent courts operating outside of the law and due process are endorsing deceptive summonses and fake “liability orders” that can never be shown to exist. It is absolutely corrupt, and the money-making scam is endorsed at the highest levels.

The ordinary police are set up to deal with ordinary crime. They have infrastructure, equipment, and training that is needed to face violent domestic and street situations. Even an armed population needs police to face down generic crime. My own experience of turning up to report a super-crime (i.e. organised crime committed by official authorities) is that you get turned away at the station entrance. There is no desire to engage in accountability acts against peer authorities, only against “classic” criminals. Therefore the most attractive form of crime is super-crime. Become an agent of the state and embed your mafia crookedness as “business as normal” — then you are permanently beyond the reach of justice.

This opens a door to a perpetual ruling “elite” of super-criminals whose differentiator is not money, but being above the criminal law. Officialdom (both the state and NGOs) becomes the go-to venue for charming psychopaths, as the spoils of the criminal enterprise are shared out among all the lackeys without conscience. Endless super-crime schemes blossom, each one given false cause to strip the public of assets and freedoms. “Pork” projects driving bribes take over the economy, generating negative net worth, but provide the illusion of economic benefit, as with the broken window fallacy. The obvious example right now is so-called ‘green’ (i.e. toxic and unreliable) energy for a fraudulent ‘anthropogenic CO2 climate crisis’.

To find a resolution so we can police super-crime, I propose we need to look at the fuller picture. This requires going in two different directions: from super-crime to sub-crime, and from ‘police mode’ to ‘priest mode’. Let’s take sub-crime first: these are all the infractions by narcissistic sociopaths that don’t qualify for a call to emergency services or a court case, but are possible behavioural precursors to crime. Having met a few “smooth sub-criminals” myself. It has been a painful lesson to discover how naively vulnerable I am to their charms, and easily seduced by being told what I want to hear. As a result of my wounds, I have wised up to their ways.

There are telltale signs of the sub-criminal who may escalate into crime. They project all their own wrongdoings onto others, paint themselves as victims when they are perpetrators, justify their malicious acts based on their strong feelings, disparage those who hold them to account, and gaslight you when you object to their misbehaviour. The giveaway is how they treat the waiter, the janitor, the flight attendant, the call centre agent, or the receptionist, especially when they don’t get their own way. Sudden rages and outbursts, manipulative maneuverers, editing of the narrative to suit their own goals… you eventually get to spot the warning signs of an abusive sub-criminal who does moral wrong that (initially) falls short of formal crime.

In dealing with such people, I have had to recognise that I am long on “priest mode” and short on “police mode”. I might see the wrongdoing, but rather than take careful note of the evidence of the sub-crime and bring justice, I want to soothe it away by attributing it to past trauma and external causes, and forgive it without consequence as an act of compassion. My dreamer wants to see the best in people, and recognise their upside potential; the critic refuses the extrapolate their unloving acts to what wickedness they might be capable of; and my realist then misguidedly chooses to stay in relationships and situations that don’t serve me, and even put me in danger.

Harsh feedback from experience has taught me that “doesn’t do unto others as they would have done to themselves” is a sub-criminal, and that fact has to be heeded. How can we expect a police constable, trained in dealing with ordinary crime, to put themselves and their career on the line for tackling super-crime, when we ourselves won’t face the sub-crime in our families and communities? Society is all interconnected, and it is unreasonable to imagine we can raises standards at the top while letting wrongdoing get a pass at the bottom. Minor violations of God’s law — how we treat others — are the staple diet of sociopaths, and true ‘social justice’ is holding narcissists accountable socially.

It is like we have three roles to bring together: the police who protect the bodily world; the psychotherapist who reflects upon the mind and our relationships; and the priest who observes the spirit of our acts. The mind and body are internal to us, the spirit is external, being the master we ultimately serve. Psychopaths can focus upon the external world and how they can control it, and have a working subconscious internally that guides them, but lack the integration of these via their soul into a holy spirit. They put their own mind and body into the worshipful place, and thus treat the words they speak as being truth, and the others they violate as being deserving of victimhood. There is no mind or body remedy to such spiritual sickness.

Tackling all three of sub-crime, crime, and super-crime follow the same basic pattern of engaging with spiritual problems first. The divinity of man and woman means we are all of equal and infinite worth: no one is above another, and therefore we should treat others as we ourselves wish to be treated (in our wisest and highest moment). This may not be the ‘obvious’, ‘simple’, or ‘linear’ thing to do, as many parables attest, so we have to humble ourselves to the wisdom of the ages and learn such discernment. Then we have to use discretion as to whether to enforce the (written and unwritten) rules of society to keep the peace, or whether to use individual conscience and go against the flow.

The sub-criminal narcissist wants to draw us into their deceptive logic and warped victimhood, just as the super-criminal Marxist would like us to buy into the false logic and morality of their ideology. The sub-criminal, criminal, and super-criminal are all justifying their violations of conscience based on the same cruel pattern: failure to respect the divinity of self and other, discerning an opportunity to make gain to self at the expense of another, and using their discretion to act against what a pure conscience would dictate. The ‘fix’ is essentially the same in reverse: put the divinity as the focus, renovate the discernment of righteousness, and restore the courage to use discretion when necessary.

The fundamental reform of our society has to be the recognition that God’s law — i.e. respect for the divine — comes ahead of all of man’s law. For instance, murder is wrong, no matter what statute law says. No, you cannot ever kill a living child once born, not even if your intention was “abortion”. There is no leeway period of seconds to days where the living infant lacks full individual rights arising from its divinity, not even if you’ve hacked bits off in an abominable medical procedure. The same applied to “trans children” (there is no such thing) having their genitals mutilated by corrupt surgeons to sacrifice them to a Baphomet cult: it is a criminal wrongness at the most base level, which is why such defilement is done and normalised by the wicked.

Equally, Parliament has no business making anyone homeless because they fail to pay a tax on having basic shelter; that’s an infraction of our innate and divine right to stay safe. It doesn’t matter how elaborately you encode these ideas as a constitution or bill of rights: if there is no divinity at the core, then law will always be hijacked into legalistic misadventures for the “greater good”. If I cannot deprive you of a home under colour of law, nor can you deprive me of one. No agent of the state should be involved in any procedure that unduly denies anyone their innate rights of speech, travel, shelter, or even the right to life. It really does come down to loving that which is holy, and then loving one another.

The onus for change begins with us: not to commit sub-crime ourselves (which is harder than it sounds), and to police sub-crime ourselves within our own social milieu. Our tolerance for the self-righteous narcissist has to go down: challenge them when they misbehave, hold them to account to their own words, and disassociate oneself quickly — as applicable. The official police cannot be expected to face down crime (and super-crime) while we are cowards who refuse to take a stand against sub-crime. To refine discernment, we have to stay away from all worldly priests who would offer us unholy doctrines to navigate by. To energise discretion, we should be wary of psychotherapists who would have us make peace with demons, whether these demons are our own or belong to others.

We then need to confront the failure modes of the legislature, executive, and judiciary, especially with respect to super-crime. The annulment of legislation via jury trials is the check that balances out the lawmakers who would steal our freedoms. It ensures that a human conscience is kept in the punishment process. Any corruption in the judiciary should be punished with the same severity as the crimes they cover for. Which leaves us with the crossing point of everything: the ordinary police. This is one of the most challenging jobs in society, being dangerous, difficult, and poorly paid. When done right, police are warriors for peace and protection, deserving of the highest respect.

For the official police, they need to be retrained so that they locate their work in a righteous fight: that of good versus evil, where they need to choose a master every day of their job. The law they enforce has to start with God’s law, not common law or statute law. They need to engage both ‘priest mode’ to discern the difference between good and evil, as well as ‘psychotherapist mode’ of reflective practise to correct errors. The most noble cause of any police officer is to disobey an unlawful or ungodly order, when everyone else around them goes along to get along. Those are the heroes we must celebrate and remember most of all. As long as ‘love’ is a four-letter word in police training, we will have a problem.

Each police constable needs the backing of their ‘personal church’, so if that moment of conscience ever comes, then they can act from a place of confidence that they have community backing in doing what is right rather than just following orders. Without that spiritual refuge, they are too vulnerable and tied to their salary and pension. Indeed, they have to know that even if they make a mistake in applying discretion, then they are still in honour with the Almighty, and have their community behind them. In our present society, there are few priests who have evaded the wokeness and retained their orthodox belief in the sacred versus the profane. The loving thing to do is tough to discern in such confusion, which is why discretion is hard to apply.

Facing down ‘super-crime’ ultimately puts us into the realm of the soldier, who has to prevent a corrupted police state from metastasising into a gangsters in nicer uninformed garb. If we want to stay away from this last resort, then there has to be a spiritual counter-weight at the spiritual level. Our churches should let Caesar’s world do its thing, to the extent it is acceptably aligned to the divine. But where temporal institutions infringe on divine rights, and do so persistently and widely, it has to be the job of spiritual institutions to call them to account. A church that permits its parishioners to be predated by the police, courts, and councils is not worthy of respect, as it is merely a tacit accomplice to super-crime.

Police acting in their divine power will refuse to arrest people for offences against laws that are unholy. Juries acting in their divine power to annul laws will refuse to convict people of offences that are unholy. Yet ideally we would like to prevent such laws coming into force in the first place. The ultimate defence against super-crime is to prevent the capture of lawmaking by criminal interests. This is a difficult problem, to say the least. In Britain, we have Lords Temporal and Lords Spiritual, who provide a counterbalance to the legitimacy and ambitions of the powers of the day. However, they have been neutered and co-opted into the official narrative.

The price of freedom, sadly, really is eternal vigilance against super-criminals. The police will only engage with super-crime to the extent that they recognise a divine aspect to their mission as a peacekeepers, and feel that they have backing by the spiritually enlightened part of society. An ungodly society will be content with unholy police actions: the police are essentially limited by the spiritual values of their society. In order to develop those, we each need to recognise that we are also police, but of sub-crime in our families and communities. The police will only perform sacred law enforcement to the extent that the public themselves take on divine values and holy burdens.

Summer puddletography.