Things almost seemed back to normal on Twitter for a little while Thursday.

UFC light heavyweight champion Jon Jones, perhaps the greatest pure talent in the history of mixed martial arts, once again tapped into his other great talent: his knack for getting in trouble.

Jones, as you’ve no doubt heard by now, was arrested in Albuquerque, N.M., in the early morning hours and charged with aggravated DWI and negligent use of a firearm, the latest in a litany of legal and regulatory infractions going back nearly eight years.

It was big enough news in our space to momentarily drown out the fact a worldwide pandemic has grounded everyone’s lives to a halt. This, in turn, led to a familiar Twitter pig pile, as people who have been cooped up in their houses and waiting to vent their frustrations found one big, easy target in a man who has everything but seems determined to piss it all away.

Let’s make one thing clear before we go any further: Jones is responsible for his own actions. He’s an adult. He’s been warned more often than a little kid who keeps touching a hot stove.

But here’s another thing: Jones doesn’t exist in a vacuum. He makes a lot of money for lots of people, from the UFC to his management to his opponents. As long as Jones functions as a human ATM, people around him have a vested interest in looking the other way.

Take it all the way back to his first legal incident, when he was arrested in upstate New York in April 2012 for DWI after wrecking his Bentley by crashing it into a telephone pole. He got off with a slap on the wrist, as celebrities usually do.

This was a first-time offense for a 24-year-old, so we all had to sort of play along and give an undeniably gifted competitor a second chance. He was back in the cage by September. By the following September, he fought Alexander Gustafsson in an all-time classic at UFC 165, then waved a big red flag by openly telling people he was partying going into it, and no one batted an eye.

Less than three years later, Jones tested positive for cocaine metabolites in the lead-up to his first fight with Daniel Cormier. The huge January 2015 fight went on anyway because it was considered an out-of-competition violation under the old testing rules. Then Jones got put into rehab for a single day – one day.

If Jones’ handlers, First Round Management, and the UFC had been serious about trying to control the problem, Jones at this point would have been kept out of sight as long as it took to get his act right. Instead, an intelligence-insulting publicity stunt was put together.

Jones was funneled straight into his next title defense, against Anthony Johnson, set for May 2015. Before he could get there, though, he had his most infamous incident, a hit-and-run in Albuquerque in which a pregnant woman was injured. This time, it was the authorities in New Mexico who should have either sent repeat offender Jones to prison or put him in a rehab facility with the threat of prison if he failed to comply. Instead, the system let him off with probation and community service.

Form there, Jones’ issues were mostly of the regulatory sort. It’s a lengthy list, but let’s focus on the infamous UFC 232. When the Nevada Athletic Commission threatened to refuse to license Jones for his rematch with Gustafsson due to drug-testing inconsistencies, rather than simply remove the Jones fight from the card, UFC president Dana White chose to move the entire event, over Christmas week, to California instead. White’s decision blatantly screwed over thousands of fans who were out of airfare and hotel rooms over their holiday vacation, and threw a huge wrench into the fight week routines of both the rest of the athletes and their camps, not to mention the UFC’s already overworked staff.

That’s the message a man with an addictive personality has been given, over and over, for years: We’ll put you in sham rehab for a day, and everything will be OK. We’ll give you probation when someone less famous would go to prison. We’ll move an entire pay-per-view card to another state rather than postpone your fight.

And you wonder where Jones might have gotten it into his head he’s above the law?

The self-isolation that responsible people are currently undergoing in the effort to stem the spread of coronavirus is trying for everyone, but especially for those who are predisposed to afflictions such as depression, anxiety, and addiction. If you’re someone like Jones and no longer have the outlet and structure of steady training camps channeling his otherworldly martial arts talent to pass your time, the demons will start calling, even if you’re trying to do the right thing. Jones certainly looked like a man in need of help in the disturbing police bodycam footage from his latest arrest.

This is on Jones, an adult who is responsible for his own actions. But it’s also on his management team for not getting a handle on things years ago (and also on those in the media who blithely played along with this charade in hopes of being handed scoops by said management, too).

It’s on White for sending Jones the clear and unambiguous message that the rules that apply to everyone else don’t apply to him.

It’s on the authorities in New Mexico for behaving like judges in our biggest cities who have one set of standards for the rich and famous and another for the rest of us.

Maybe you all had fun on Twitter making fun of Jones. I’ll admit to having a laugh watching the “other” Jon Jones swat down hate tweets meant for the fighter sent his way. But I’m not going to take any joy in watching a phenomenally talented human being spiral downward.

If Jones doesn’t get the real help he needs, then it’s as much on the people who chose leeching off him over doing what’s right at every step along the way.