Originating from the video game Final Fantasy, the title quote has become a widely cited critique of systemic inequities in the legal and social enforcement of laws.
It has transcended its origins, resonating as a profound commentary on the disparity between the privileged and the marginalised.
Fines, as a form of punishment, are inherently tied to financial capacity.
For individuals in lower socio-economic classes, even minor fines can have devastating effects, leading to debt spirals, further legal consequences or a complete destabilisation of their lives.
Conversely, for the wealthy or influential, fines can often be reduced to a mere inconvenience, a transactional cost for non-compliance rather than a genuine deterrent.
The recent 'punishment' handed down to Brisbane Broncos star Ezra Mam has reignited debates about the adequacy of penalties for high-profile individuals who commit serious offences.
Some may argue that due to a high profile, they are publicly scrutinised far more than regular citizens, and that must carry some of the load in penalty.
Mam, a 22-year-old five-eighth, pleaded guilty to charges stemming from an incident on October 18, when he collided head-on with an Uber carrying a woman and her four-year-old daughter in Brisbane.
Despite failing a roadside drug test and driving without a licence, Mam was fined $850 with no conviction recorded - an outcome that has left many in the NRL community questioning the consistency of justice.
The sentencing magistrate noted the serious nature of his conduct, stating, “At so many levels you are fortunate to stand where you are today … you could have been injured or killed, or the other persons could have been injured or killed.”
Despite the gravity of those words, the penalty was worlds apart.
The leniency of the $850 fine and the absence of a recorded conviction have sparked outrage among rugby league commentators and fans.
The lack of substantial consequences for a dangerous and reckless act has been widely criticised as emblematic of the privilege afforded to high-profile individuals in Australian sport.
And it appears as though the issue of a paltry fine is what has incensed the general public, based on a common theme from social media wash where $850 is positioned alongside an annual income nearly double that of the Prime Minister's.
Mam's case underscores a broader societal issue.
Fines, when disconnected from a person's financial capacity, fail as a deterrent for the wealthy or influential. For someone in Mam's position - a rising NRL star with a lucrative career - an $850 fine is unlikely to have the same impact it would on an ordinary citizen.
Cue the outrage.
The perception that high-profile figures face reduced accountability erodes public trust in legal systems and sporting institutions.
It sends a dangerous message that wealth or status can insulate individuals from the consequences of their actions, even when those actions endanger others.
The NRL has long grappled with how to handle off-field player conduct.
While the league has disciplinary mechanisms, the penalties imposed often seem insufficient compared to the gravity of the offences.
Critics argue that fines and short suspensions do little to address deeper issues such as substance abuse, reckless behaviour and the responsibility that comes with being a public figure.
In the wake of Mam's case, there are renewed calls for stricter and more transparent disciplinary measures that apply equally to all players, regardless of their status.
The magistrate's remarks in Mam's case captured the gravity of his actions: “There's no place for illicit drugs in our community, and there's certainly no place for a person who is using illicit drugs to get behind the wheel of a car.”
Yet, the lenient punishment leaves many questioning whether the legal system truly holds all individuals accountable equally.
If rugby league is to maintain its integrity and the trust of its fans, it must take strong action against misconduct, setting an example that reflects the seriousness of incidents.