The fraud triptych: Bad blood, Black Edge and Billion Dollar Whale (1/n)

I've been somewhat obsessed with reading books about frauds lately. Actually obsessed isn't the correct word as I only realized the common theme after I was finished with the second of the three books highlighted in the title. 

1. Bad Blood, John Carreyrou: investigation into the company Theranos and its founder Elizabeth Holmes. Turns out you can't really "fake it til you make it" in the physical world. Seems this only works in the digital world. Double thumbs up on the quality of the writing
2. Black Edge, Sheelah Kolhatkar: my least favorite of the three as it touches an area I'm more familiar with. Reads like a mob story, the mob being SAC Capital, dominated by Steve Cohen and a cast of underlings. In the end, their macho balls all shrank to peanut size once the Feds came knocking. 
3. Billion Dollar Whale: had a hard time believing this was a non-fiction book the whole way through. Follows a Malaysian schmoozer who through sheer will (and a lot of lying) gets his hands on a newly created sovereign wealth fund. Uses the money to buy Champagne to the tune of several million $ per year.

I might have to write several notes on this subject as there is much to unpack.

Let's start with commonalities between the main characters of each book. The first one that comes to mind is that they all started their career of deception and lies at a very young age. I won't detail what each of them did (h/t to Mathew Martoma for getting kicked out of university for lying on his transcripts and then creating a company to exonerate him of his deeds) but suffice to say they all displayed an uncanny ability to constantly lie from a young age. Now, it could be that the authors wanted to paint a picture of sociopaths never caught or it could just be that people develop bad character from an early age.

To say we all lie is the easiest of observations. What distinguishes each of them from say my childhood, is that when they got caught, there were no repercussions for their actions or worse, they were somehow commended for being "innovative". I remember lying about going to fencing classes with my best friend Thomas when I was 15. I would leave the house every Wednesday and Friday afternoon with my gear, go meet up with Thomas and proceed to either smoke cigarettes or play video games at the local arcade (which Thomas was kind enough to finance since I had no money). My parents started getting suspicious when they realized that my cloth were neither smelly no damp with sweat. So I even went to the length of humidifying my clothes and letting them rot a bit in my bag so that they would smell. Then one day, maybe two months after we had started this little routine, I came home and my father asked how fencing had gone. I said it was tiring and was hungry. He then started yelling at me that he'd been at the club and they hadn't seen me for a few months.

Now did I feel bad looking back on what I did? Not really. But I suffered the consequences and had my computer and outings privileges stripped from me for a couple of months. The fact that I still remember the event vividly is a testament in and of itself that I "learned" a lesson that day. Of course I would unlearn and relearn this lesson at least once more over the course of my teenage years. But more on that tomorrow.