Page 51 - Malcolm Gladwell - Talking to Strangers
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fraud in history, but what were the chances of that?
                       The Holy Fool is someone who doesn’t think this way. The statistics say that the liar and the con
                    man are rare. But to the Holy Fool, they are everywhere.
                       We need Holy Fools in our society, from time to time. They perform a valuable role. That’s why
                    we romanticize them. Harry Markopolos was the hero of the Madoff saga. Whistleblowers have
                    movies made about them. But the second, crucial part of Levine’s argument is that we can’t all be
                    Holy Fools. That would be a disaster.

                       Levine argues that over the course of evolution, human beings never developed sophisticated and
                    accurate skills to detect deception as it was happening because there is no advantage to spending
                    your  time  scrutinizing  the  words  and  behaviors  of  those  around  you.  The  advantage  to  human
                    beings lies in assuming that strangers are truthful. As he puts it, the trade-off between truth-default
                    and the risk of deception is
                       a great deal for us. What we get in exchange for being vulnerable to an occasional lie is efficient
                       communication  and  social  coordination.  The  benefits  are  huge  and  the  costs  are  trivial  in
                       comparison. Sure, we get deceived once in a while. That is just the cost of doing business.
                       That sounds callous, because it’s easy to see all the damage done by people like Ana Montes and
                    Bernie Madoff. Because we trust implicitly, spies go undetected, criminals roam free, and lives are
                    damaged.  But  Levine’s  point  is  that  the  price  of  giving  up  on  that  strategy  is  much  higher.  If
                    everyone on Wall Street behaved like Harry Markopolos, there would be no fraud on Wall Street—
                    but the air would be so thick with suspicion and paranoia that there would also be no Wall Street. 1


                                                           4.


                    In the summer of 2002, Harry Markopolos traveled to Europe. He and a colleague were looking for
                    investors for a new fund they were starting. He met with asset managers in Paris and Geneva and all
                    the  centers  of  capital  across  Western  Europe,  and  what  he  learned  stunned  him.  Everyone  had
                    invested with Madoff. If you stayed in New York and talked to people on Wall Street, it was easy to
                    think that Madoff was a local phenomenon, one of many money managers who served the wealthy
                    of the East Coast. But Madoff, Markopolos realized, was international. The size of his fraudulent
                    empire was much, much larger than Markopolos had previously imagined.
                       It  was  then  that  Markopolos  came  to  believe  his  life  was  in  danger.  Countless  powerful  and
                    wealthy  people  out  there  had  a  deep-seated  interest  in  keeping  Madoff  afloat.  Was  that  why  his
                    repeated  entreaties  to  regulators  went  nowhere?  Markopolos’s  name  was  known  to  prominent
                    people at the SEC. Until the Ponzi scheme was publicly exposed, he could not be safe.
                       He decided that the next logical step was to approach New York’s attorney general, Eliot Spitzer,
                    who had shown himself to be one of the few elected officials interested in investigating Wall Street.
                    But he needed to be careful. Spitzer came from a wealthy New York City family. Was it possible
                    that he, too, had invested with Madoff? Markopolos learned that Spitzer was going to be in Boston
                    giving a speech at the John F. Kennedy Library. He printed out his documents on clean sheets of
                    paper, removing all references to himself, and put them in a plain brown 9x12 envelope. Then, to be
                    safe, he put that envelope inside a larger plain brown envelope. He wore a pair of gloves, so he left
                    no fingerprints on the documents. He put on extra-heavy clothing, and over that the biggest coat he
                    owned.  He  did  not  want  to  be  recognized.  He  made  his  way  to  the  JFK  Library  and  sat
                    unobtrusively to one side. Then, at the end of the speech, he went up to try to give the documents to
                    Spitzer personally. But he couldn’t get close enough—so instead he handed them to a woman in
                    Spitzer’s party, with instructions to pass them along to her boss.
                       “I’m sitting there, and I have the documents,” Markopolos remembers.
                       I’m going to hand them to him, but after the event, I give it to a woman to hand it to Eliot Spitzer
                       because I can’t get to him. He’s just surrounded by people. Then he heads out the back door. I
                       think he’s going to go to the restroom and go to have dinner next door, all right? I’m not invited
                       to the dinner. He’s heading out the back door to get in a limo to the airport to catch the last
                       shuttle flight to New York.…Eliot never got my package.
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