The repair is not replacing all the people.
You cannot remove every seasoned member at once. Institutions still need memory, skill, process, and continuity. The problem is not experience itself. The problem is when experience becomes a closed culture that trains newcomers to survive by compromising what they came in to protect.
So the repair is not moral replacement. It is structural redesign. A swamp does not drain because better people walk into it. It drains when the conditions that feed corruption are broken.
That means power cannot stay concentrated in the same hands for too long. It means expertise must be preserved without letting it become patronage. It means decisions must be visible before they become scandals. It means favors, exceptions, conflicts, and influence must be traceable. It means consequences must arrive fast enough to matter. It means new members cannot enter alone, isolated, and outnumbered by a culture already trained to absorb them.
Most corruption does not begin as one grand betrayal. It begins as a thousand small permissions. A quiet favor. A delayed objection. A softened line. An unwritten agreement. A lesson in how things really work.
That is why ethics alone do not fix a corrupt institution. If the machine rewards silence, access, ego, and greed, then the machine will keep producing the same outcome. The repair is to build a structure where corruption has less room to hide, less power to organize, and less ability to train the next wave in private.
You do not fix the swamp by asking humans to be better inside a system designed to rot them. You fix it by changing the system so human weakness has fewer places to take hold.
The answer is not to hope for better people. The answer is to build institutions that can survive the humans inside them.