When the Rules Are a Weapon: A Personal Story of Proceduralism at Work

By John-Michael Kuczynski

Years ago, as a student at a major university, I took an ethics course taught by a well-known professor. One of the assignments had a strict word limit. I exceeded it—not out of arrogance, not because I didn’t know the rules, but because I had something substantial to say. I forget the idea now, but at the time, it was real. It was serious.

I submitted the paper, expecting at worst a polite reprimand. Instead, I got an F.

Not because the work was wrong. In fact, the professor told me explicitly:

• “You’re more intelligent than the other students, yes.”

• “Yes, what you wrote exists in the literature.”

But none of that mattered. I had exceeded the word count. And therefore, the system had to respond.

I asked to revise. I admitted my error. I offered to resubmit within the limit.

She refused.

I tried to drop the course. She refused to sign the drop form. I had to go through the administration to get out. She tried to block that too.

This Was Not a Mistake. It Was the System Functioning Normally.

Later I learned that a senior professor in the department disliked me, though he had previously been supportive. She was, by all accounts, curry-favoring. But it wasn’t just personal.

It was procedural.

She had the form. She had the rule. She had the performance of neutrality.

And she had the moral satisfaction of punishing a deviation.

“It Wouldn’t Be Fair to the Other Students”

That’s what she told me when I asked to revise.

“It wouldn’t be fair to the others.”

This is the entire Rawlsian system in one sentence.

Not:

• Would revising be right?

• Would it reflect the quality of the work?

• Would it support the student’s development?

Just:

“The structure must remain equal, even if that means rewarding mediocrity and punishing insight.”

When Insight Threatens the Frame

This wasn’t about fairness. It was about flattening. I had stepped outside the structure—not by cheating, but by exceeding it. And the system doesn’t know what to do with that.

So it punished me. Not despite the professor’s intelligence, but because of it. She knew what I was doing. That made it worse.

And so she invoked the rules.

Rules become weapons when they are used to suppress not wrongdoing, but deviation.

And proceduralism provides the perfect cover. It says:

“Don’t look at the outcome. Just check the boxes.”

Final Thought

The rules weren’t broken. The system wasn’t corrupted.

That’s the problem.

It all worked exactly as designed.

And that is why proceduralism, when left unchecked, doesn’t just fail the best among us.

It targets them.

And it does so with a smile.

Because after all, it wouldn’t be fair to the others.