The Myth of Control: Fortune Favors the Flawed

Two people make the same choice—only one causes harm. One’s a villain, the other’s forgotten. Does intention matter?

Author

Steph Saikaly
June 17, 2025

This one’s for the overthinkers, the perfectionists, the people who rehearse apologies they never get to deliver. And also, for anyone who’s ever said, “But I didn’t mean for that to happen…” while the fallout smolders behind them.

There’s a philosophical concept that deserves a spot not just in ethics seminars but in therapy sessions, courtroom deliberations, and the daily scroll of social media discourse. It’s called moral luck, and it asks an uncomfortable question:

How much of what we call “right” and “wrong” is really just… timing? Outcome? Chance?

WHEN ETHICS PLAYS STUPID GAMES AND WINS STUPID PRIZES

Imagine two people make the same choice—say, driving home a little too tipsy. One makes it back without incident. The other, tragically, strikes a pedestrian. Morally, we treat them as two different kinds of people. One is reckless. The other is a criminal.

But what if the only difference was luck?

Moral luck, as coined by philosophers like Thomas Nagel and Bernard Williams, breaks apart the tidy idea that we should only be judged by our intentions or conscious decisions. It says: outcomes matter. And often, those outcomes are beyond our control.

It’s an elegant and deeply destabilizing concept. Because we want to believe morality is fair. We want to believe people get what they deserve—that goodness is rewarded and harm is punished in proportion to the actor’s culpability.

It’s the idea that morality—that grand system of right and wrong we pretend is objective and fair—is actually a casino. Your intention? That’s your poker face. But the world still deals the cards, and if you bust, well, too bad. Everyone’s judging you anyway.

You’re judged not just for what you did, but for what happened. And when we do that, we open the door for randomness to shape reputations, careers, and even identities.

  • You run a red light. No one notices? You’re just a little wild.

  • You run a red light and hit someone? Suddenly you’re a cautionary tale in a driver’s ed PowerPoint.

Same action. Different outcome. Entirely different moral judgment.

Justice, meet vibes-based ethics.

🚨 Everyday Examples (aka Emotional Terrorism)

  • A parent lets their kid walk home alone. Nothing happens? Empowering independence.

    Something happens? Negligent monster.

  • An artist tweets something ambiguous. No backlash? Bold thinker.

    Backlash? Problematic icon of the week.

  • You ghost someone. They’re fine? Healthy boundary.

    They spiral? You’re the reason for a new trauma podcast.

Moral luck reveals the brutal truth: outcomes do a lot of moral heavy lifting, and often in ways that feel deeply unfair.

1. Intention Still Matters. But Context Is King.

You can’t ignore outcomes, but stop pretending they’re the whole story. People mess up. People also get lucky. Neither makes them gods or ghouls.

2. Stop Playing Moral Olympics.

Life is not a points-based system where everyone gets exactly what they deserve. That’s capitalism. Don’t confuse the two.

3. When You Mess Up, Own What You Can—And Let the Rest Go.

You’re not omniscient. You’re not fate. You’re just trying. That’s not a moral failing. That’s… Tuesday.

4. When Others Mess Up, Ask More Interesting Questions.

Not just “Did they cause harm?” but “Were they acting with care, clarity, or at least something resembling a conscience?”

Sometimes that’s all you can hope for.

WHERE IT SHOWS UP

This isn’t just a thought experiment. It’s baked into our cultural and legal systems:

  • A doctor makes a risky call. The patient survives? She’s a hero. The patient dies? Malpractice.

  • A public figure says something ambiguous. If it goes unnoticed, it’s bold. If it goes viral, it’s damaging.

  • A parent lets their child explore independence. If nothing happens, they’re progressive. If something happens, they’re irresponsible.

THE QUIET JOKE

The irony of moral luck is that it exposes how much of our morality depends on the illusion of control. We crave a universe where the good are rewarded and the bad are punished, not because it’s true—but because it makes life legible.

The truth is more unsettling: we are often at the mercy of outcomes we didn’t design. Our choices matter—but their consequences don’t always obey.

And yet, in that mess, there’s room for mercy. For others, and for ourselves.

That, too, is a kind of luck.

There’s no simple moral to moral luck. That’s part of the point. But it offers a few quiet lessons, especially in an era where judgment—moral, social, public—is fast, binary, and often permanent.

  1. Compassion is not naïveté. Recognizing that people are often at the mercy of circumstances doesn’t excuse harm, but it does encourage us to respond with context, not condemnation.

  2. Accountability requires complexity. We can hold people responsible while also acknowledging that luck—good or bad—played a role. Justice without nuance is just performance.

  3. Self-forgiveness must make room for chaos. If you’re holding guilt for something you never could have fully controlled, consider this: morality is not math. It’s music. And sometimes, the dissonance isn’t your fault.

  4. Success, too, is often lucky. The moral high ground can be a very thin ledge when built on a foundation of fortune. Tread lightly on it.

FINAL THOUGHTS…

🥀 Moral Luck in a Nutshell:

You did your best. It didn’t go well. People judged anyway.

You got lucky. People praised you like you’re a genius.

Neither is the whole truth. But both feel real.

That’s the sick little joke.

So be kind. Be curious. And maybe stop idolizing clean moral math in a world built on chaos and group chats.

TL;DR: Moral luck is that thing where you get credit or blame for stuff you never fully controlled. Ethics is vibes. Justice is moody. Grace is mandatory.

“There is a certain peace that comes with knowing less — and choosing better.”

Stay sharp, stay soft,

bourgeois pig