Public trust doesn’t collapse overnight. It erodes through familiar scandals and “mistakes” dismissed as mere oversights. Trust can crumble after dramatic blows, but it is also worn down by the everyday moments when truth becomes optional and accountability negotiable. The trust deficit can deepen as quickly as a fiscal one.

Consider the recent revelation that around 130 police staff were investigated after tens of thousands of alcohol breath tests were found to be “falsely or erroneously recorded.” If you didn’t catch that in the news, don’t be surprised—the public conversation was brief. What’s more, coverage skipped over any dark implications and quickly settled on a need for “training” to overcome “poor judgement.” 

Never mind that “training” doesn’t fix a willingness to bend truth. Instead of pretending otherwise, we should confront institutional failings for what they are—helping to reduce the trust deficit. 

Distrust hasn’t just been in the news lately; it has struck the news itself, damaging the reputation of a media icon.

We’re talking about BBC’s trust downgrade after the outlet manipulated footage of Donald Trump—twice—to create the impression he incited the violence of January 6. When challenged, the broadcaster admitted that merging statements made 54 minutes apart had misrepresented his message, but dismissed the twin edits as a mistake. It wanted to “defend [its] impartiality and independence.” 

The BBC’s distortion of the facts cannot be construed as a simple misunderstanding; the ensuing mistrust is a rational response to manipulation by those tasked with informing us. Until the BBC recognises this, it will continue to squander its greatest asset.

Distrust hasn’t just been in the news lately; it has struck the news itself.

Closer to home, the Jevon McSkimming scandal has exposed a deeper failure altogether: not just misconduct, but the judgement of the leaders who elevated him. 

Police leadership knew there were serious allegations against him yet never sought to investigate. Instead, they promoted him and prosecuted a person who said they’d been hurt by him. 

Thankfully, authorities now recognise this was unjust, and former Police Commissioner Andrew Coster has accepted “full responsibility” for his part in the debacle. He apologised directly to the woman at the centre of the case and to Police staff, acknowledging that “Police’s handling of the whole matter was lacking” and that he was “ultimately responsible for those matters.”

Positions of trust must be earned—and preserved—through accountability and transparency. This doesn’t erase opportunities for repentance or restoration, or the chance to rebuild a livelihood after disgrace. But if we don’t hold civic and social leaders to the same standard that we expect of our spouse or boss or business partner, we chip away at society’s foundations.

Dr Stephanie Worboys’s Maxim paper on the centrality of trust in democracies makes it clear that those foundations aren’t strengthened by tribal allegiance or by following leaders blindly. We need to test both ideas and leaders, and to hold the people we’re aligned with to the same standards as those we aren’t. Some leaders will fall short, but our system is designed to factor in failures. Let’s not pretend we’re facing accidents, or gaps in training, or misunderstandings. Sometimes it’s plain old skulduggery. 

To move on from these breaches—to restore trust—we must call them what they are. Trust is the only currency that matters in a democracy, and it’s minted by truth-telling. 

When institutions forget this, the headlines remind us. If we ignore them, the trust deficit will only deepen.