Talking about conflicts of interest means paying attention to a silent risk—one that is not always visible at first glance, but that has the power to distort decisions, alter processes, and erode trust. It is that almost invisible line separating the professional from the personal, the institutional from the private, the duties of office from the loyalties and relationships each person accumulates over the course of a lifetime.
This is neither remote nor exceptional. We all live surrounded by relationships, networks, and close ties that, at some point, may intersect with relevant decisions. What is decisive is not the existence of those connections, but how they are handled. There is a profound difference between allowing proximity to prevail and acknowledging the risk through transparency—by declaring it and stepping aside when appropriate. That is where the boundary lies between a legitimate relationship and a decision that loses integrity. It may seem obvious, but not everyone understands it—or chooses to.
Although a conflict of interest does not constitute a crime, it does create a risk situation that can escalate if not properly managed. And there is no shortage of examples, particularly in recent headlines.
In the Audio case, the overlap between the personal, professional, and commercial interests of Luis Hermosilla and the public functions of judges and prosecutors made unmistakably clear how a close relationship can become an institutional risk, pushing the Judiciary into one of the deepest crises in its recent history. When someone exercising public power—especially within the justice system—maintains close ties with an individual who has direct interests in ongoing cases, the door opens to undue influence: access to privileged information, informal interventions in proceedings, or pressures that compromise impartiality. That risk alone, even before anything actually occurs, is sufficient to erode trust in the system.
Something similar occurs in the so-called Belarusian Doll scheme. Investigations would reveal efforts aimed at obtaining favorable rulings through informal relationships with judges. While the alleged payment of bribes is the visible illegal act, the root of the problem lies earlier—in the relationships that create incompatibilities, gray areas, and fertile ground for private interests to attempt to capture public decisions.
That dynamic ultimately led to the removal of now former justices Ángela Vivanco, Antonio Ulloa, Verónica Sabaj, and Diego Simpertigue. Voting in cases where there were evident personal ties—close relationships with lawyers, family trips, shared celebrations—was not merely imprudent, even if no bribe had ever existed; it was ethically indefensible. The correct and logical course was recusal. Failing to do so weakened the legitimacy of their decisions and deepened the perception that certain personal connections outweighed the duties of office.
Much of this rests on perception, because it is not only about what actually happened, but about what the public can reasonably believe happened. The appearance of improper conduct can damage public trust as much as the conduct itself.
It is also worth remembering that nothing here is purely black or white. We all have connections that may give rise to conflicts of interest, and that is not inherently negative. What matters is declaring them, recusing oneself when ties go beyond what is strictly professional—especially when a decision may directly or indirectly affect close individuals or entities—and being transparent about the relationship. Even absent any intent to influence, mere participation can be ethically improper because it distorts the perception of impartiality and undermines trust. In Chile, the Lobbying Law requires public officials to disclose their relationships and interactions precisely to prevent that perception of undue closeness and to ensure decisions are made independently and with full integrity.
When an influential lawyer speaks informally with prosecutors about sensitive cases, when judges rule on matters involving friends with whom they vacation, or when a Registrar of Property maintains financial and personal ties with politicians or officials who later intervene in matters affecting them, public trust is not merely weakened—it is fractured. That is why managing conflicts of interest is essential, because in the end, what is at stake is not just the conduct of an individual, but the credibility of our institutions as a whole.
By Susana Sierra
Published in La Tercera
