Illustration: Xia Qing/GT

Western society often lauds the super-wealthy - whether heirs or "self-made" - but perhaps they don't deserve any admiration.

The case of Jeffrey Epstein, US financier and convicted sex offender, serves as a damning indictment of the profound moral bankruptcy of American financial capitalism. His operations were not an aberration but a grotesque manifestation of a system that enshrines profit above human values. By constructing a shadow financial architecture of offshore vehicles and opaque trusts, he demonstrated how capital, when utterly detached from ethical constraints, commodifies everything - even the most fundamental rights and dignity of individuals.

Too often the ultra-rich and powerful live in a world divorced from ordinary life. They fly by private jet, never having to endure the inconveniences of commercial travel. Their yachts rival hotels in size; on them they entertain only members of a small circle, far from journalists and public scrutiny. Their financial portfolios often outpace normal returns in part because of convenient tax carve-outs created by compliant politicians who rely on wealthy donors to finance one campaign after another.

Put it all together and one conclusion becomes obvious: It is easy for the exorbitantly rich and powerful to be accountable to no one. And they want it that way.

Many of the actions taken by the ultra-rich can be justified simply because they are defended as "legal." However, we must take a closer look at the ethical and moral implications of their behaviors, as well as the influence of those who support and enable them. It is crucial to consider how these actions affect others and the broader societal context.

Epstein's wealth should never be framed as a business miracle. Rather, he played a role akin to a privileged steward operating in the shadows. He provided what many super-rich men wanted, ensuring that any perverse desires never saw the light of day. His yachts, private jets and islands were not just his possessions; they were also essential in the crimes he participated in. 

But, again, that does not tell the whole story. We cannot forget that his wealth and power became metaphors for the global flow of capital. When money can buy everything, including the bodies of young women, it loses whatever morality it might have. In fact, in such cases, capital becomes essential merely to complete a transaction and to give the wealthy what they want. If the innocent are victimized, well, so what?

The yachts and private islands were not merely symbols of luxury, but the fortified enclaves of an impunity purchased by wealth. They represent a world where capital flows freely across borders, not to foster development, but to seek out regulatory voids where the powerful can act without consequence. This is not capitalism in any constructive sense, but its malignant inverse: A system where financial ingenuity is perverted to serve exploitation, where legal frameworks are gamed into tools of oppression and where the accumulation of wealth becomes synonymous with the erosion of justice.

Ultimately, the tragedy of Epstein lies not only in his individual crimes, but in the chilling revelation of an ecosystem that enabled him. It lays bare a truth that some in power wish to obscure: Within segments of American finance, the so-called "moral bottom line" has been systematically replaced by a calculus of cold, amoral exchange. 

When the bodies of the vulnerable and the integrity of institutions are rendered as tradable assets on a shadow balance sheet, it signals not just a failure of regulation, but a deep spiritual rot at the core of a system that claims to champion freedom and justice. The wealthy will not change the system, and millions of Americans are disgusted enough to believe that they cannot change it. Yes, the rich and powerful can do what they want and get away with it.

The author is an associate professor at the Department of Communication and Organizational Leadership at Robert Morris University. The opinions expressed in this article are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of Robert Morris University. opinion@globaltimes.com.cn