346 lives. Two crashes. One admitted crime. And now—no trial? The U.S. Department of Justice’s (DOJ) recent move to potentially drop a criminal charge against Boeing—one of the world’s most powerful aerospace firms—signals more than just a legal shift. It reveals a stark imbalance in our justice system, where accountability too often bends in favor of corporate power rather than public protection.

For the families of those who died aboard the two doomed Boeing 737 Max flights in Indonesia and Ethiopia, the DOJ’s willingness to pursue a non-prosecution agreement feels like a betrayal. And rightly so. The loss of 346 lives wasn’t the result of unforeseeable accidents—it was the outcome of calculated decisions, cost-cutting choices, and concealed truths. Boeing admitted as much. Yet, the prospect of a trial—of public reckoning—may never come.

The initial crashes were not merely tragedies; they were preventable. A flawed piece of software, the Maneuvering Characteristics Augmentation System (MCAS), was secretly installed in the aircraft without pilots being informed. Investigations later showed that Boeing withheld critical safety information from regulators in an effort to speed up certification and maximize profits.

When corporations make decisions that risk—and ultimately end—human lives, the justice system is supposed to act not only as a legal mechanism but also a moral compass. That moral clarity is lost when accountability ends in settlements and secrecy rather than open courtrooms. Worse, the current trajectory indicates that Boeing may once again avoid a criminal trial. Instead, it could walk away with another financial slap on the wrist, protected by legal maneuvering and political convenience. What does it say about a justice system when paying a fine can substitute for facing the consequences of fatal negligence?

Boeing has already paid billions—$2.5 billion in a 2021 settlement and another proposed $243 million under a later deal—but money is no substitute for justice. Financial penalties, while significant on paper, are often absorbed as the “cost of doing business” for multinational corporations. For the families who lost loved ones, no amount of money can replace a lost child, parent, or partner. They don’t want payouts. They want the truth. They want responsibility. They want change.

The implications of this go beyond Boeing. Allowing a company to evade criminal responsibility for actions that led to mass death sends a dangerous message: that some companies are simply too big to be held to account. That profit and political expedience can outweigh truth and justice. With the Trump administration signaling a lighter regulatory hand and Boeing reportedly seeking to withdraw its guilty plea, the concern is not only about what has happened—but what will continue to happen if this trend holds. Will safety standards be further eroded in the name of efficiency? Will powerful corporations learn that the worst outcome they face is a manageable fine?

It is particularly damning that in meetings with victims’ families, DOJ officials appeared to treat the decision as a foregone conclusion. Legal advocates representing those families called the meeting “scripted” and the process hollow. The social contract between government and the governed—wherein institutions exist to protect the people—is fractured when justice is only partially served.

To allow Boeing to avoid a criminal record is to reinforce a system where white-collar crime operates on a different playing field. A young man caught shoplifting may face jail time, while a corporation that concealed deadly defects can negotiate its way out of court. Justice should not be for sale. A company responsible for hundreds of deaths must face full legal scrutiny. This is not about vengeance—it’s about setting a precedent that values human life over economic leverage.

If the trial goes ahead on June 23, it should be a chance not only for accountability but also for systemic introspection. If it doesn’t, then we must ask ourselves: what kind of justice system do we have when it shields the powerful and leaves grieving families with only silence? In a democracy, justice must not only be done—it must be seen to be done. Anything less dishonors the lives lost and endangers the lives yet to come.