When Accountability Becomes Optional: The Problem with Qualified Immunity

Accountability is supposed to be the bedrock of justice. If a citizen violates the law, consequences follow. But what happens when the people enforcing the law — police officers, prison guards, government officials — are shielded from consequences? That’s where qualified immunity enters the picture. This isn’t a theoretical exercise for me. My own journey as a citizen in Ephrata, facing multiple violations of my rights by government actors here, is what forced me into this classroom.

It sounds technical, but let’s break it down in plain English.

What Qualified Immunity Really Means

Qualified immunity is a legal doctrine created not by Congress, but by judges. It protects government officials from being sued for violating someone’s constitutional rights unless a previous court case already decided that the exact same conduct was unconstitutional.

In other words: unless a “carbon copy” precedent exists, victims are out of luck.

If an officer uses a Taser on a handcuffed teenager in 2023, but the only precedent is from 2019 involving pepper spray — the court may say “not clearly established”.

If a prison guard ignores a diabetic inmate’s pleas for insulin, but there’s no prior case involving insulin, only heart medication — the guard walks away immune.

The logic breaks down quickly. If no one can sue until there’s a precedent, and precedents only exist if someone sued before, how do new abuses ever get recognized? This is what I mean when I say accountability becomes optional.

The Logic of an Illogical System

Let’s lay out its broken logic in simple terms, because sometimes a clear breakdown exposes absurdity better than rhetoric.

• The System's Flawed Rule: Accountability only happens if BOTH a right was violated AND an identical precedent already exists.
• The Inevitable Outcome: If a right is violated in a new way, there is no precedent, so the result is always immunity.
• The Conclusion: The system, by design, protects new and creative forms of abuse, ensuring injustice repeats itself.

A doctrine designed to protect government actors from “frivolous lawsuits” ends up creating a loop where the first victim of any new abuse has no legal recourse.

Survivors Know This Pattern

Survivors of narcissistic abuse recognize this trick instantly. Abusers often demand a kind of legalistic precedent:

“Prove exactly when I said that.”

“Show me where it’s written down.”

“Unless you can document every detail, it didn’t happen.”

Qualified immunity is the state-sanctioned version of gaslighting. It moves the goalpost of accountability so far down the field that only a handful of cases ever cross the line.

Why This Matters in Small Towns Like Ephrata

In places like Ephrata, stories of abuse often don’t make the headlines. This is especially true in a small town, where a single police department can be tightly-knit and resistant to outside scrutiny. There are fewer media outlets to ask tough questions, and the suffocating power of official silence can feel absolute in a community where everyone knows each other. Civil rights violations get buried under local politics and silence. Survivors learn quickly that the courtroom is not always a safe place for truth.

When the law itself erects barriers — like qualified immunity — it tells everyday people: “Your rights matter, but only if someone else already fought this exact battle for you.”

That’s not justice. That’s a loophole.

Toward Real Accountability

Congress could abolish or reform qualified immunity tomorrow. Bills have been introduced but stalled, usually under pressure from law enforcement unions and political inertia. Meanwhile, courts continue to apply the doctrine in ways that deny justice to victims of clear abuse. Supporting organizations like the Institute for Justice or the ACLU, who fight these cases in court, or contacting representatives about specific legislation like the Ending Qualified Immunity Act, are concrete steps toward dismantling this loophole.

True accountability would look like this:

If a government official violates someone’s constitutional rights, the burden of proof should be about the rights themselves, not whether a matching precedent exists.

Novel abuses should be litigated on their merits, not dismissed because no one has suffered this exact flavor of injustice before.

Until then, accountability will remain optional — a privilege for some, a mirage for others.

Final Word from a Reluctant Legal Educator

I never set out to teach constitutional law. But survival has a way of pushing ordinary people into unexpected classrooms. In the end, the most important lesson isn’t about precedent or procedure — it’s about power.

A system that shields itself from accountability cannot heal. Survivors know this. Communities know this. It’s time the law remembered it too.