western law and the love of the lie

Dr. Suneel Mehmi (LLB, LLM, PhD & Published Academic Author in Law and Literature)

05.10.2026

In my analysis of King Solomon’s legal judgement, which you can download as a short booklet on my ‘About’ page, I wrote about how this legal icon was a liar. How the law is supported by lies. Fiction. Untruth. Sleight of hand and deception. The legal hero of the West is a liar. The lie, it will be noted, was to go against a woman. And for exposing this truth? They had no place for me in Western academia. Funnily enough, in a world of stench and corruption, the truth teller and the one who cares for justice is not supported.

The judgement of Solomon is not just the root of Western law. The figure of the King Solomon legal hero permeates the whole jurisprudential structure. This is the inheritance of Western law. We can see it in the fictional legal heroes of the West, from Victorian times to more modern literature. The legal heroes of the West are all liars. And the lies oppose women. The law is a misogynistic lie.

Sydney Carton in A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens

Impersonates Charles Darney to deceive the French legal system and to have himself executed by guillotine. Here we have this lie which actually subverts the legal process and justice. Note that the lie thwarts a woman, Madame Defarge who thirsts for justice and revenge against the class that Charles Darnay represents. The lie is an evasion of the justice of a woman. And the result? Sydney Carton is celebrated in Western culture as is his final speech in the novel. He even figures as a hero in philosophy, as a ‘secular Christ figure’.

Atticus Finch in To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee

This supposed legal inspiration lies at the end of the novel so that Boo Radley is not imprisoned for killing Bob Ewell. Rather unconvincingly, he agrees that Bob Ewell fell on his knife. Note that Bob Ewell represents his daughter who lied to make up a rape case to prosecute an innocent, Tom Robinson. Bob Ewell represents a woman’s voice and place in the law (where she can only be seen as a liar). Therefore, one can surmise that the lie of Atticus Finch (The Father in the novel, and The Father as The Law) is attempting to oppose a ‘lying’ women’s justice with its own lies. There is a competition for the law, for untruth and deception. The concept is of woman as deception and the law wants to be deception. And the result? Atticus is an inspiration for men to go to law school in this legal culture of injustice and lies.

Elle in ‘Legally Blonde’ by Karen McCullah Lutz and Kirsten Smith

Elle impersonates a lawyer to get her friend Paulette’s dog back from Rufus. She makes made up legal threats to Rufus to intimidate him and presents a fiction about common-law marriage and property rights. Obviously, Elle is a woman law student that becomes a lawyer in the movie and she is representing a woman, Paulette. The misogyny of the law is embodied in Elle: she is a lying woman. She is deception. Obviously, Elle takes on misogyny and prosecutes Chutney Windham in the murder trial, who she exposes as a liar (since, according to legal logic, women are liars and woman herself is deception). And the result? Elle is an inspiration for women to go to law school in this legal culture of injustice and lies.

How can you expect any justice in a legal culture which celebrates the lie and liars? How can you expect any justice in a culture of legal misogyny? These are the legal heroes of this culture. These are the fictional characters that are driving students to go to law school in the first place, as anyone that knows anything about Elle and Atticus would know. This is what this culture worships. The lack of reality in law. The lack of reality in personhood. The covering up of the truth to achieve an end.

reading versus life

03.10.2026

In a novel that I was once reading, there was this episode. A man who was a bookworm aimed to relinquish books and reading because he wanted life. But then he saw what life was and was disappointed. And then he turned back to books.

There is this opposition. Reading versus life.

A voracious bookworm myself, there has always been this tension between reading and life. When you are living, it is difficult even to find time for reading. It is difficult immersing yourself in a book. It is difficult to be able to take on board what the book is saying.

And when you are reading? Then it is difficult to live. There is the time factor. There is the fact that you are studying, thinking and writing about books and concentrated on that.

In books, you have the best of thought. In life, you have the best of company. In books, you have a direct correspondence with one author, an intimate conversation. In life, you have many people.

Life is like a whirlwind. Reading is like a monk’s cell.

Still, over and over again, this choice comes up in my life. Reading or life?

I did an English literature degree in the past because I wanted to read more. I want to read more. It has been a constant in my life. But how do you balance life with the desire to read? There is no money in reading. They would not let me become an English Literature Professor at the Universities. Reading does not give you any material reward.

Life can give you material rewards. Life can give you relationships. Life can give you experiences.

Perhaps, however, reading gives you experiences and experience too. Are these any less real than experiences in the real world?

There are perhaps over six hundred books on my bookshelves at home that constantly admonish me that I have not the time for them. Because over the past four or five years I have chosen life over books. Every day, I think to myself that I will make more time for reading. But how much time can you put in? An English Literature degree with first class honours. A PhD in English Literature, Law and Art History. Journal articles about major authors such as Charles Dickens. Having read most of the greats. Reading is never ending. Life is never ending. How to reconcile the two?

the book i can’t bring myself to publish – recovering from ostracism in academia

18.09.2026

Academia kept me out of the game. Complete rejection and ostracism.

I am writing this as someone that published a book and several academic articles, some in top journals. On paper, it looks like I was accepted by the community.

In fact, I have made no significant money from my studies. They’ve never given me an opportunity to teach. I don’t have any network aside from two kind law professors. The articles? I wrote them by myself with almost no help, although I was lent a book by my network for one. I don’t consider this acceptance.

What does it feel like to be marginalised by a community that you wanted to be part of? It is heartbreaking. When you are an intellectual and you can’t afford to be in the game because it will not accept you. When your special talent is lost outside of academia.

And the effects?

My second book is in draft form. It is a very important book. It shows how madness is constructed. It could help many people. The four people that have read it have described it as important, and highly original. One called the research within it breathtaking.

Yet that book has sat there for four years in first draft form. Instead, what is happening is that I am working and working, studying to improve my career prospects. Because I know that I will get nothing out of that book for myself.

What did I get for my last book which was also important and original? No job. No kudos. No status. No network. No respect. No recognition. There was one appreciative book review in a journal. No citations. It is the same with the articles. Just a few citations.

If that is what they are offering, why would I slave away at this second book? Why would I sacrifice my life for these people if they can offer nothing? I am not a saint. You cannot eat self satisfaction in publishing another book. All that happens is that the publishing company makes money from it, from my work. I would have to be their slave.

So you see, because of how they have treated me, I cannot perform. And this book, which could change the world, it is sitting there. It has only been read by four people. It is my masterpiece. It is revolutionary. And it is going to sit there. Unread.

three good deeds in five minutes

29.07.2026

S: It really does not take long to do good things in this world.

A: How so?

S: You really can do good wherever you go.

A: Really?

S: You know, just a few days ago, I stopped a fight. Two young men were beating up another younger man together. I stopped them.

A: Surely that was just a one off?

S: Not at all. On Saturday, I shared my photographs of an event with the organisers even though I was not paid for it. Yesterday, I arranged something for volunteers at a place I work in by giving my time not only in organising, but also on the day.

A: This is something that you often do.

S: Because I always aim to make life better for anyone that I know.

A: Any other good deeds recently?

S: Checking up on an elderly friend because she is not well. Again yesterday.

A: And anything else yesterday?

S: Yes. To illustrate this idea that you don’t have to do too much to do good things, let me tell you about my visit to the Oxfam book shop. Now, I was there shopping and I picked up this book by Steven Pinker about language, ‘Words and Rules’. It was on at £4. However, I browsed through the book and saw that it was a signed copy, with the author’s signature on the front page. Here was this signed copy in my hand. I could have bought it for just a few pounds. But I didn’t. When I got to the front desk, I told them that it was signed and that it was worth a lot more than the money they had put on it. In fact, it turned out that the book was worth £100 pounds. Therefore, in just a few moments, I raised a hundred pounds for the charity. They are now going to sell the book online. They thanked me profusely. I said ‘What kind of person would I be if I ripped off a charity?’

A: So that was another good deed.

S: Not only that, but while I was at the desk, I let a young woman go in front of me while they handled my query about the signed copy. And then, on top of that, I lent her my pen so that she could write in the card that she was purchasing.

A: You did a lot. But then, you realise, that by telling me about it, it appears that you are promoting yourself.

S: It is not promotion. It is rightful pride in helping others. When I achieve something, I am rightly proud of it. All of these examples above show that I am committed to helping others. That I try to be a good person. And yet, despite all this help that I give to others, however much I try to be a good person, did you not see how hard it was for me to meet someone? Because you are never rewarded in this life for being a good person. You go through life making things better for everyone but instead of rewarding it, people exploit it. They try to use you and then throw you away. They have no love in their hearts for you and your goodness. The ones that value goodness, they are few and far between.

monsters of the jurassic deep or heroism does not take a holiday

26.07.2026

The day was ending. Quickly, quickly, I was writing a list of things I had done today for A. It had been a day of art, nature, relationships, politics, literature, scholarship and social duty.

Reading news.
Shaving.
Phoning friends and family.
Contacting professional acquaintances.
Crossword, Scrabble and Jigsaw puzzle online.
Breakfast with parents.
Languages learning. Short stories and news in Punjabi, Hindi, Urdu, Spanish, French and German.
Reading psychology articles.
Messaging friends and sharing writing with them.
Reading history.
Listening to Hindi music.
Natural History Museum exhibition, ‘Jurassic Oceans: Monsters of the Deep’.
Window shopping in the Natural History Museum shop.
Natural History Museum garden visit. Took a photo of a family there for them.
Chinese lunch at Chopstix.
Buying books at the bookshop in South Kensington: – Art Deco – 100 years of Fashion – Rare Plants by Kew Gardens – The Language of Trees – History of Illustration – The Great Tree Story
Ice cream in Macdonald’s.
Sitting in St Martin in the Fields.
Ferdinand Georg Waldmüller ‘Landscapes’ exhibition at the National Gallery.
Watching the Palestinian protest in Trafalgar Square.
Shopping: buying sunglasses on a 70% sale.
Embankment Gardens visit.
Meet up.
Reading Skandar and the Phantom Rider.
Breaking up a fight where two young men were beating up a lone youngster.
Dinner at home – Chicken Biryani.
Writing.
Sketching.

would ask me about breaking up the fight. I had just got off the bus for home. Two lads were beating up a third lad. They started just as I had crossed the road from them. I was carrying a heavy bag of books on top of another bag I was carrying. I was rushing for home because I was very hungry. It was dark. I couldn’t see much, especially as I was not wearing my glasses. I was tempted not to get involved. It was dangerous. But I would not think of myself as a man or a Punjabi if I did not get involved. I shouted at the top of my voice, an order. ‘Stop what you’re doing or I will call the police! Stop right now!’ They looked at me and they stopped what they were doing straight away and walked off. I looked over to make sure that the kid that was bullied was okay. He was. He was grabbing his stuff that had fallen to the floor. Someone else would not have helped. A woman was there on the other side of the road where they were a few metres in front, just watching and not doing anything. But I was not a woman. I was a man. And I was not any man. I was The Tiger. I am the bravest. I am the warrior. Sometimes, people tell me that god sent me to help them. Just in time. It is not true. I myself am god on this earth. My name is the name of god. It is the duty of the strong to protect the weak. It is the duty of god to protect the People, the Oppressed. Thanks or no thanks.

the list of things done

29.06.2026

Again, A. asks me who I am. Are we what we do? This is what I did today. What does it say about me? A. never comments.

Meditation and chi building. To maintain mental clarity, focus and balance.
Reading the newspaper (The BBC website and The Metro). To keep in touch with things. To stay up to date. To connect with the wider world.
Exercise with light weights. Mens sana in corpora sana.
Languages learning in Hindi, Punjabi, Urdu, German, Spanish and French (reading novels, short stories, the news, reading a German grammar book). Because of the challenge, the thrill of learning, connection with my own culture. Connection with the world.
Reading British history. To learn more about this world that I have arrived in. To be erudite and learned.
Reading ‘The Ecology Book’. To face the environmental disaster.
Reading psychology articles. To learn more about the strangers that surround me and the strangeness in myself.
Watching videos. Pleasure, entertainment, enjoyment.
Reading about Christiano Ronaldo on social media. Looking up to a hero that is like myself, the achiever, the goal getter, and understanding the hate sent to him by the jealous.
Phoning my girlfriend. To feel connected to someone, to feel intimate. To show that I care.
Taking my family around London, a museum and the Royal Opera House. Family ties require duty and care.
Playing Scrabble. Keeping the mind nimble.
Doing a crossword. Keeping the memory agile.
Doing anagrams. Keeping creativity and language playing in the mind.
Doing a jigsaw puzzle. Keeping visual processing in check.
Listening to Hindi music on my headphones. Connecting with the culture, enjoyment, language learning.
Writing to my pen pals. Keeping connected. Helping people to stay connected.
Writing some fiction. The drive to write is a compulsion and my biggest ambition.
Quick doodles. To keep the artist’s hand in training.
Looking at photographs and art on social media. To learn and learn and learn again. To be stimulated. To be one with creativity.

the writer does not know what the reader reads

31.03.2026

S: The writer does not know what the reader reads.

A: How so?

S: The fact is, that the reader hardly ever shares what they experience of the text. I am lucky. I am in research and write academic non-fiction. Therefore, I eventually hear what others have made of my work. And it is always positive. Because I work hard and I am extraordinarily intelligent.

A: The usual modesty.

S: Other people have said it. I merely echo their sentiments. You are allowed to be justifiably proud of your accomplishments. Because I am intelligent, I know my place in the world of thought. My best friend goes around telling his family and friends that I am an original thinker. I get good reviews for what I write. If I said it were the case and others didn’t agree with me, then that would be out of place. I’m not going to hide my genius under a bush. It is what other people want to be. I am it.

A: To get back to the topic and not your infernal vanity, why does it fascinate you so much what other people think about what you write.

S: There are those that hate it. They are not worth considering. There will always be haters. What is more interesting is those that read regularly. They are fascinated by what I write. They have been there for years and years reading. But what are they finding in this writing? Things have changed so much. Yet these people are reading and reading and reading. They want to be flooded by these words of mine. What emotions do they feel? What thoughts do they have? What is the identity of the author that they have built up in their minds?

A: You will never know. Because they will never tell you.

S: A villain to some, a hero to many. The author can only say what is in his heart. He stays true to his own heart. This is not a performance. This is life. Whatever reaction it arouses, envy, disdain, fear, contempt, adulation, praise. The author lives in a world that he considers vile, in a sickening climate of hate and conformity that he is too good for, in a world that he is much too good for but denies him his worth. Even though this world tells him to stop writing, that there is nothing for him, he writes. He is a writer. The writer is one that will defy this world and all of its rules, that will defy all for the sake of his voice. I am the real writer. I am what brings freedom into this world, the expression of the self. I am the one that retrieves the lost sense from this world, the lost self from this world. Whatever any reader thinks, I am the hero of this tale. The reader hears the voice of the hero and sees the deeds of the hero.

all before eight thirty in the morning

31.03.2026

A: You like listing things that you have done. Go ahead.

S: I’ll tell you what I did in the morning before 8.30 am.

A: Let’s see how much you were capable of.

S: On the train, I did language learning in German, Spanish, French, Hindi, Urdu and Punjabi. Reading poetry, dialogues and news stories. I also read the Metro newspaper, particularly on the Iran war which is affecting my friends. Then, I did the quick crossword and the anagrams on the puzzle page. Finally, I read a poem on the way up the escalator at Holborn, a woman’s poem about the body and its relationship to various metals.

A: Then?

S: First I bought a chicken and mushroom slice from Sainsbury’s, then I walked over to Ole and Steen and bought a £2 offer, which was a berry and pistachio treat. I got in to work then ate that with some tea in milk. Which was followed by working on my fashion photography and charity work by uploading some photographs to my social media after messaging my girlfriend.

A: More and more.

S: There is still more. Then, I wrote letters. I told my mentors in my academic discipline about the book review that I got for my first book and also thanked the academic that had taken his time to write such a glowing review.

A: I hesitate to ask. But is there more?

S: I haven’t even included everything. But there is more. Then I did some writing. And now, I am about to do some reading. Stendhal’s ‘The Red and the Black’. It is about love and power.

A: The work day has not even begun.

S: All hours of the day are work. Even play. Because I work to make that play happen and often the play is itself work. If we were not busy, then we would be dead. And then there would be quiet. That is the difference between the quick and the dead.

life outside of work

17.01.2025

A: What is your life outside of work?

S: Wouldn’t you like to know. You are what you do. Should I tell you my identity?

A: Precisely. This is why I ask.

S: What do you want to know? When?

A: Today.

S: After work, I called up the one I am with on the phone. That was the first thing. I talked about my day and asked them about theirs.

A: You called them first of all? And then?

S: I moseyed my way down to High Street Kensington for the Japan House exhibition. Where I wandered in the exhibition about a hundred Japanese craftsmen. Watching a video about the creation of ceramics and woodwork, reading displays about the philosophy of Japanese craftsmanship, pondering over the unique qualities of the artwork on display, messaging my friends and the one I am with with photographs of what I was seeing.

A: An interesting excursion. Anything for afters?

S: I browsed in the Marks and Spencer’s foodhall, which is one of my favourite regular shops, if not my absolute favourite. I love the food there. Then, I had a free dinner in MacDonald’s, a fillet-o-fish or whatever it is called with some fries. On the commute home, I finished reading ‘The Golden Road’ by William Dalrymple, about Ancient India and how it has shaped contemporary knowledge. When I had done with that, I listened to Hindi film music on my smartphone.

A: When you got home?

S: I ate some fancy Lindt chocolate. Then messaged the one who is mine, doodled on my tablet with a stylus and wrote to my penpal in New Zealand after watching some videos.

A: So. Phone calls, viewing art, reading, photographing, shopping, eating, studying, listening to music, watching videos, writing, writing, writing.

S: I got up to 23, 000 steps today too. Despite that, I got up from my seat on the Tube so that an old lady could sit down. A good deed outside of work to help others. Even though I’ve been on my feet and rushed off my feet all day.

A: And now?

S: It is about 23.28. It is time to try and get to sleep. Have you found out who I am yet?

the readers (microfiction)

07.11.2025

A: Do you still keep that website?

S: I only write fiction nowadays.

A: Yet you have retained your readers?

S: They still read. Some are very loyal. In a world where loyalty is rare. Where time is precious and limited.

A: Do you think they wonder what you are up to nowadays? Outside of fiction?

S: I am sure I am a curiosity. A warrior from the old world. A so-called ‘toxic male’.

A: Did you not tell me that, in person, one told you that you led an uneventful life? That you did not do anything?

S: Apparently I do nothing and nothing happens. And yet the readers are riveted to my writing for some reason. Funny that. I am all over London everywhere and yet I am always doing nothing.

A: What did you do today?

S: I am not saying. I am denying anyone that reads for the vicarious feeling of pleasure in my life.

A: What do you think these readers make of you?

S: I am everything to all people. Friend. Inspiration. Argumentative. Childish. Mature. Egotistical. Humble. For some, an absolute enemy.

A: Every writer faces some kind of hostility, agreed. But what is it that you are trying to convey through your fiction?

S: In his mind, the writer has the idea of one who is in accord with him. Perfect sympathy. The beautiful reader. The ideal reader. The one that loves him. Perhaps, she reads.

A: That is what you have in your mind. Others dream of money and fame. Immortality.

S: I dream of love. I write for love. I work for love.

A: And yet, love is precisely what you don’t have.

S: The forms of love are various. Some come. Some don’t. In love, I am a beggar.

A: The philosophy of India is that the one who has the least is the greatest. Don’t forget that.