Pearls cast before navy blue swine

It's the season for plums in the mouth, a time when you could ask whether a particularly juicy one gives you access to a more sympathetic justice system than one dealing in ghetto slang.

I don't have a lot of sympathy for the four former Lombard Finance directors found guilty of making false statements to elicit money from the trusting public.

Its trust was bolstered by Sir Douglas Graham's knighthood and Bill Jeffries' former Cabinet ranking.

Both, as former Ministers of Justice, could be expected to know well what ethical conduct is and ought to be.

The best excuse I could come up with would be that though they were directors of the ill-fated company, they didn't poke their noses into its workings too much, so were as surprised as anyone when the company went belly-up to the tune of $125 million.

But directors aren't supposed to be paid - by investors, actually - for nothing, and if they attach their good name to a company, which is the reason why they were offered the gig in the first place, they should surely be especially motivated to make sure it's okay.

Were they just lazy, or blasé, or did they hope for a miracle?

I hope not, because magical thinking should never apply when you're looking after other people's savings, and risk losing the lot.

We could be waspish about people wanting to earn more than bank interest - but isn't that the whole point of capitalism, in which they played a willing part?

Aren't we supposed to get the best possible deal for ourselves if we're lucky enough to actually save a bit of dosh, and aren't we implored to invest in business, despite the risks?

The effect of high-profile trials like this one, among so many in recent years, is far-reaching and destructive.

Dishonesty in the supposedly squeaky-clean and honorable accountancy and legal professions, and in investment companies, has shaken whatever fragile trust remains among what John Key likes to call "mum and dad investors".

I don't blame them if they'd rather keep their money under their pillow now than hand it over to other people to gamble with, however rounded their vowels might be, and however natty the cut of their jackets.

The judge has indicated he'll look at community service sentences for the four, and possibly they'll be pursued for compensation by the furious investors, but I doubt that between them they'd be able to raise anything like the money involved.

In any case, they're bound to have been cautious enough on their own behalf to have set up legal structures limiting their risk in such situations - unlike drug dealers, say, or a gang lout who makes a habit of holding up dairies and grabbing the contents of their tills, which could amount to - oh, a couple of hundred dollars on a good day.

If the lout makes a habit of it and gets caught he'll certainly end up in jail, though the impact of his brand of nastiness is, in my view, arguably less than the impact of Lombard's collapse, which hit thousands of people's futures.

Perhaps we could shuffle a few brown faces out of our jails, then, to remind us that jails exist for everybody, not just the brown majority crammed into them at present.

Being vengeful is hardly the point: it's that justice should be seen to be even-handed.

How these four might envy Italy's former Prime Minister, Silvio Berlusconi, off the hook yet again this week on charges of corruption.

I love that he's been strutting around Rome in a new navy jacket, a gift from an equally louche admirer, Russian Prime Minister Vladimir Putin.

Navy blue, as all women of a certain age and social class know, can never be wrong.

I hope he's wearing it with pearls.