Western legal systems all agree that if a dangerous dog injures or kills, responsibility rests with the owner who failed to restrain it. This is not a modern notion, but a principle rooted in biblical law. In Exodus 21:28–29, Moses declared: “When an ox gores a man or a woman to death … if the ox has been accustomed to gore in the past, and its owner has been warned but has not kept it in, and it kills a man or a woman, the ox shall be stoned, and its owner also shall be put to death.”
This passage is not merely about animals; it is the Sixth Commandment in action. The prohibition on murder is not only a ban on deliberate killing but a positive command to value and protect human life. Neglect or apathy that leads to the death of another is treated as a form of murder. The owner of a violent animal who ignores repeated warnings is considered guilty of a crime against human life, and the law demands his removal for the safety of the community.
In the UK’s Animals Act 1971, owners are strictly liable for injuries caused by dangerous animals regardless of negligence. Australian states differ: places like New South Wales hold owners responsible, but laws vary by jurisdiction. In the US and Canada, liability regimes range from strict liability to the one-bite rule, with hybrid systems in between. In every case, though, the default expectation remains: owners cannot evade responsibility for serious harm caused by their animals.
The reason for this is that innocent human life must be preserved, and anyone who fails to restrain a known danger is guilty of violating that principle. Yet if this holds true for dog owners, why do we not apply the same moral logic to the justice system itself? Judges release violent offenders back into society every day, often with full knowledge of their records of brutality. When those offenders go on to harm or kill again, the victims pay the price, while the judges face no consequence at all.
We are often told that no one can predict whether a criminal will reoffend. But that is precisely the issue. If the risk cannot be ruled out, why gamble with the lives of ordinary citizens? If a judge believes a violent offender can be released, should he not be so certain of his judgment that he would be willing to stake his career on it? Why should the public bear the weight of uncertainty when the judge himself assumes none of the risk?
The case of Decarlos Brown Jr. makes this painfully clear. With fourteen prior arrests and a five-year prison term for armed robbery behind him, he was released back into society. He went on to slash the throat of a young woman as she sat on a train, minding her own business. It is difficult to imagine how many warnings the justice system requires before it treats such a man as dangerous beyond doubt.
At what point do we hold judges accountable for their decisions? If our legal system demands that a dog owner must pay the price when his negligence costs a life, why is a judge immune when his own carelessness or apathy unleashes a human predator on the public? A justice system that consistently exposes its people to danger ceases to protect and instead betrays them.
The biblical principle remains as relevant as ever: those who have been granted the power to restrain danger and yet fail to do so should be held responsible for the innocent lives destroyed as a result. Until then, there’s little reason to expect anything to change.
