By Glenn Agung Hole
Associate Professor of Entrepreneurship, Economics and Leadership
University of South-Eastern Norway

The Epstein case is typically reduced to a story of criminality, abuse, and elite moral failure. That framing is accurate—but insufficient. What it ultimately reveals is a deeper structural condition: a form of power that has detached itself from meaning, responsibility, and moral self-limitation.

This was not merely a criminal network. It was an ecosystem of exemptions—an architecture of access in which ordinary norms no longer applied. Not because they were openly contested, but because they had quietly ceased to carry weight.

A World Governed by Exceptions

Jeffrey Epstein did not sell ideology, loyalty, or pleasure. He sold exemption.

Private aircraft. Private islands. Private residences. Private introductions. Private rules.

In sociological terms, this resembles what Max Weberdescribed as the degeneration of authority when legitimacy is no longer grounded in ethics or rational norms, but in proximity to power itself. Authority ceases to be justified; it merely circulates.

These were not escapes from power, but its most distilled form: spaces where individuals at the top could exist without mirrors, without accountability, and without the need to explain themselves—to others or to their own conscience.

Decadence as Emptiness, Not Excess

This is where the philosophical dimension becomes unavoidable. Decadence, as described by Friedrich Nietzsche, is not primarily about excess or hedonism. It is the condition in which values are hollowed out while desire persists. One no longer knows what one wants—but still wants something, anything, to feel alive.

When meaning disappears, status becomes a substitute.
When responsibility dissolves, access becomes identity.
When values collapse, position is all that remains.

Power without direction does not create. It consumes. It isolates. It seeks immunity from consequences.

The Banality of Moral Collapse

What is striking about the Epstein universe is how little ideological commitment it required. No grand vision. No coherent worldview. Just access.

This mirrors Hannah Arendt’s insight into the banality of evil: moral collapse rarely presents itself as dramatic villainy. It emerges instead through thoughtlessness—through the gradual suspension of judgment, responsibility, and inner dialogue.

In such environments, wrongdoing does not feel transgressive. It feels normal. Routine. Administrative.

Sodom Without Theology

The biblical image of Sodom is often misread as a story about excess. It is more accurately a story about emptiness. The city did not fall because its inhabitants crossed too many boundaries, but because boundaries had become meaningless.

The Epstein network functioned in precisely this way. Everything was permitted not because norms were challenged, but because norms had evaporated. This was not a realm of pleasure, but of self-deception—where consequence-free existence was mistaken for freedom, and exemption confused with identity.

In the language of Albert Camus, this is not rebellion against meaning, but life after meaning has collapsed—where the absurd is no longer confronted honestly, but anesthetized through privilege and access.

Small States, Big Illusions

That figures from small, high-trust countries like Norway appear at the margins of this story is not anomalous. It is revealing.

In small states, elites often possess significant domestic influence while remaining globally marginal. Entry into exclusive international circles can therefore function as symbolic elevation—not in responsibility, but in exemption. Not in contribution, but in distance from scrutiny.

This dynamic reflects what Eric Voegelin warned against: the collapse of order when elites detach power from transcendence—whether religious, moral, or civic—and replace it with procedural status and closed networks.

This is not weakness. It is decadence.

The Same Logic, Reproduced Locally

The uncomfortable truth is that this mechanism is not confined to global elites.

I have observed recognizably similar patterns in voluntary and value-based organizations—spaces that speak fluently about ideals and community, yet quietly replicate the same structure. Closed rooms. Internal hierarchies. Positions that become identities. Status that substitutes for purpose.

People invest enormous effort not primarily in the cause itself, but in the reflection of themselves as central and indispensable. And when that reflection fails to materialize, what follows is bitterness, intrigue, and moral flexibility behind closed doors.

This is not an organizational failure. It is an existential one.

After Meaning Is Gone

When position becomes meaning, the loss of position becomes a loss of self. This is where decency erodes—not from laziness or lack of commitment, but from the exposure of inner emptiness.

I have never understood this climb—not out of moral superiority, but because internal status without external substance has always struck me as profoundly fragile. I have watched people trade character for rank, relationships for control, and purpose for dominance—only to be left with a status that has no value beyond the room they have declared sacred.

That is why I have often chosen to remain at the margins. Not as protest. Not as idealism. But as observation. Because it is from the floor, not the podium, that one sees how quickly meaning collapses when it is no longer anchored in something larger than the self.

Collapse Needs No Verdict

The Epstein universe did not require external judgment. It collapsed under its own weight.

So did Sodom.

And so does every system—personal or political—that no longer knows why it wants what it wants.

Power without meaning is not strength.
Freedom without responsibility is not liberation.
Access without purpose is not status.

It is exhaustion.