One of the most frustrating things about the global financial crisis is the way the culprits who caused it have managed to evade punishment and have resumed their extremely lucrative careers.

It happened again last week when the Securities and Exchange Commission proposed a $285 million fine for Citigroup which, of course, sounds like a lot of money until you realize Citigroup made $3.8 billion in profits in the most recent quarter.

Worse, the proposed settlement would be made “without admitting or denying” any wrongdoing, and without identifying a single person — from a CEO to a receptionist — as culpable for anything.

By any standard of decent behavior, there was flagrant dishonesty at Citigroup.

The bank deliberately bundled worthless loans together and sold them as nearly risk-free investments to other banks across the globe.

Meanwhile, the bank’s traders laughed as they used barnyard expletives to describe the worthless securities, according to the e-mail trail they left behind.

The bank made money on the worthless trades, then it made money by betting they would fail.

It was like a farmer selling you a race horse without telling you that it has been diagnosed with a fatal heart condition. Then the farmer goes to the track and bets against your horse, which predictably collapses in its first race.

This shady dealing was standard operating procedure at the nation’s largest investment banks, including JPMorgan and Goldman Sachs, which have now concluded similar slap-on-the-wrist plea deals with the U.S. government.

It is impossible to imagine how such behavior can go virtually unpunished in our society. If a wood-cutter repeatedly sells cords of firewood that are less than a cord, he will eventually have the police knocking on his door.

If a homebuilder uses shoddy techniques in building a home, he’ll likely find himself in court.

The same goes for any other profession that misrepresents its services or products.

The only difference here is of scale: Small operators face actual punishment, while bankers who cause a global catastrophe through their underhanded dealings keep their million-dollar bonuses, corner offices and country club memberships.

Why?

It could be because the financial-services industry contributes far more money than any other sector to the U.S. Congress. The ranking member on the House Committee on Financial Services, Spencer Bachus, received $161,200 — 71 percent of his campaign contributions in 2009 — from the finance, insurance and real estate industries.

Or could it be that there is a revolving door between federal government regulators and the industry they regulate? Perhaps the people regulating and investigating the financial-services industry are simply afraid to offend their future employers.

Last Sunday on “60 Minutes,” the wife and son of the biggest swindler of all time explained how they had managed to remain oblivious to Bernie Madoff’s massive Ponzi scheme.

Before the banking scandal, our federal regulators were like the Madoff family, willfully oblivious to the suspicious behavior and mounting crisis.

Today, they seem eager to forgive the guilty parties and return to business as usual.

[email protected]

The opinions expressed in this column reflect the views of the ownership and editorial board.