When Tragedy Meets Certainty
Why Process Still Matters in the Renee Good Shooting
The killing of Renee Nicole Good is a tragedy. A woman is dead. A family is shattered. A community is angry. Those truths are not in dispute, and anyone pretending otherwise is not engaging honestly with the moment.
But tragedy does not grant us license to abandon judgment, and anger does not excuse the collapse of process. If anything, moments like this are when restraint matters most.
On January 7, 2026, Renee Good was fatally shot by an ICE agent during a federal operation in Minneapolis. Video footage has circulated widely. Statements have followed quickly. Protests erupted almost immediately. Verdicts, in many quarters, were reached within hours.
That speed should concern us.
What We Know
We know that Renee Good was shot and killed by a federal agent. We know that the agent involved has been identified. We know that the FBI is conducting the investigation and that the Department of Justice has not, at this time, announced civil rights charges. We know the family has retained legal counsel and intends to pursue accountability through the courts. We know there is video. We know that the footage raises serious questions.
Those are facts.
What We Do Not Yet Know
We do not yet have a complete, verified timeline. We do not yet know precisely what commands were issued, when they were issued, or how they were perceived. We do not yet know what internal policies were followed or violated. We do not yet know what training governed the agent’s positioning or decision-making. We do not yet know whether deadly force meets the legal standard of objective reasonableness under the totality of circumstances.
Those questions are not academic. They are the difference between justice and vengeance.
The Danger of Moral Absolutism
Much of the public conversation has already moved past these questions. The language has shifted from investigation to condemnation. Terms like “execution,” “paramilitary,” “fascist,” and “murder” are being used not as hypotheses, but as conclusions.
This is where we should pause.
Legal systems exist precisely because humans are poor judges when emotion runs hot. Due process is not a courtesy extended to the powerful. It is a safeguard against mob judgment. When we discard it, we do not get better justice. We get faster injustice.
History is unambiguous on this point: when societies allow moral certainty to replace legal standards, punishment expands outward. It does not stop with the guilty. It consumes skeptics, dissenters, and eventually anyone insufficiently aligned.
The loudest voices online are not asking for accountability. They are demanding closure. Those are not the same thing.
Accountability Requires Process
None of this is an argument for inaction. Quite the opposite.
If federal use-of-force doctrine was violated, charges must follow. If policies were ignored, consequences must be real. If the agent positioned himself in a manner that manufactured danger, that must be examined ruthlessly. If institutional failures contributed to this death, they must be exposed.
But accountability built on process is slower than outrage. It is less satisfying. It requires evidence, not vibes. It requires sequencing, not slogans.
That is not weakness. That is civilization.
Why This Moment Matters
The public reaction to Renee Good’s death reveals something deeper than anger at one incident. It reveals a collapsing trust in institutions and a growing comfort with extra-legal judgment. Blacklists are being discussed openly. Collective guilt is being normalized. Calls to bypass courts are no longer fringe.
This is not justice asserting itself. It is faith in justice eroding.
If we cannot distinguish between “this looks deeply troubling” and “we already know who deserves punishment,” then the rule of law is no longer a shared value. It becomes a convenience, invoked only when it aligns with our conclusions.
A Firm Line
We can mourn Renee Good without rushing to verdict. We can demand accountability without surrendering to rage. We can condemn institutional failures without endorsing mob logic.
The law exists because human beings, left to their emotions, are capable of extraordinary cruelty. The measure of a society is not how loudly it condemns, but how faithfully it restrains itself when condemnation feels righteous.
Renee Good deserved better.
Her family deserves truth.
And the rest of us deserve a society that does not hang dissenters in the name of justice.