There is a famous quip, often attributed to Groucho Marx, that captures a deep and dangerous absurdity:
“Who are you going to believe—me, or your lying eyes?”
That’s exactly what it feels like to encounter a justice system that insists—again and again—that nothing is wrong, even when the evidence screams otherwise.
In our own civil case, the record contains a long trail of factual distortions, ignored misconduct, contradictory statements under oath, and critical evidence that was either buried, dismissed, or never even acknowledged. Motions citing these irregularities were brushed aside. Protective orders were signed, but violations went unpunished. Sworn declarations were met with silence. And at every stage, the system’s highest figures—district court judges, appellate panels, chief judges, and regulatory boards—closed ranks to insist: “There is no evidence of judicial misconduct.”
But there is.
We’ve seen it with our own eyes—within transcripts, filings, metadata, and written orders. The disparities between what the record plainly shows and what the judiciary officially claims are not minor differences in interpretation. They are incompatible realities.
This is not a dispute over legal theories. It’s not about who “won” or “lost” a motion. It’s about whether institutions tasked with upholding justice can look directly at documented misconduct—at failures to enforce orders, at bias in how facts are selectively recited, at disturbing relationships between insiders—and still claim, with a straight face, that nothing went awry.
To the public, the judiciary often presents itself as self-correcting. Appeals, motions, complaints—all are part of a supposed system of checks and balances. But when every mechanism of accountability defaults to denial, what we are left with is not a neutral system, but a protective shell. One that shields itself from scrutiny by redefining wrongdoing out of existence.
This is not just a failure of one judge. It is a failure of institutional courage.
Judicial oversight bodies too often behave not like independent watchdogs, but like guardians of reputation—more concerned with preserving public faith in the system than ensuring that faith is actually earned. And when the facts become inconvenient, the refrain becomes familiar: “There is no evidence of misconduct.” Even when the evidence is part of the public record.
That is why we created Justice-Denied.org. To document what others ignore. To ask hard questions when the official answers don’t match the documented facts. And to push back against a culture of unaccountability that dares to tell citizens, in effect: “Don’t trust what you’ve seen—trust us.”
The system may insist that nothing happened.
But we’ve read the orders. We’ve studied the transcripts. We’ve seen the contradictions, the omissions, the biases. And we will not look away simply because the people in power tell us to.
Because justice requires more than faith. It requires facts. And it requires the courage to face them.
🔗 For more on judicial ethics and court reform in Minnesota, visit https://justice-denied.org.