Mike's Minute: Are people allowed to make up for past mistakes?

Published: Aug. 25, 2020, 9:26 p.m.

I don't know Damien Grant, never met him, but he writes a solid column. He seems bright and well informed and periodically I've featured a little bit of his work on our programme.
I mentioned something about a recent column to my wife who then added the fact he was a convicted felon. Funny old pivot, that. You're in the middle of a chat about something you’ve read and next thing you know he's been a crook.
I looked it up, sure enough many years ago, he was sprung for credit card convictions in the 1980s, then a share dealing scam in 1994. He's since gone to run what I am led to believe is a successful insolvency firm employing 10 people.
Now, as of next month new rules come into play when it comes to running insolvency firms, you need to be licensed by an accredited authority. That authority has had a look at Grant's application and turned it down.
You get a review, he got one, they turned him down again. He's now off to court.
So my question is this, assuming he's done nothing in the ensuing period from the 1990s, why are we still penalising him? And if we are, how long does that go on for? His fraudulent activities, I should point out, aren't secret he's talked quite openly about them.
In a world where we seem desperate to reduce the recidivism rate, reform people, encourage them to go on, leave their past mistakes behind, and make new productive lives, what sort of mad message is this sending?
The bloke, when he was in his 20s, clearly made some pretty serious mistakes. He's learned, put them behind him, started fresh, started a business, and started employing people. I am assuming he has clients who like his work.  
I get you want some regulation around practitioners of all sorts, but if their thinking is that after a quarter of a century, we need to keep revisiting past wrongs and keep making you pay for them, what hope is there for anyone? Far less someone who was determined the past was in the past and a productive life going forward was the only answer.
If a 26-year-old finite sentence is, in fact, a life sentence, then why bother? And we'll have the recidivism rate and social fallout to show for it.