Everyone screws up. We all have bad moments in our lives, in
which we do things that are illegal, or shameful, or deceitful, or
lazy, or things we’re just not proud of. If we accept the
consequences and try to do better, the world will eventually come
to terms with us. Look at Mike Milken. He was involved in some
pretty sophisticated wrongdoing that probably took billions of
dollars out of savings and loans, which the government had to
replace. But he did his time, and is now advising billionaires,
financing a cure for prostate cancer, and even friends with the man
whose mission was to bring him down, Rudy Giuliani.
Milken may have been a bigger bank robber than a thousand Pretty
Boy Floyds, but he at least had the sense to take the rap in the
end. You can argue whether he paid enough of a price, but he
submitted himself to the system, with nothing but his deeds and his
guilty plea on which to judge him. Unfortunately, the world is much
too quick, and makes the terms far too easy, for those who sell the
secrets of their friends, offering them up to spare their own
hides.
I wonder if David Duncan, the fired Arthur Andersen partner in
charge of the Enron audit, thinks about these things. In what may
be the defining moment of the Enron case, he agreed to plead guilty
and give the government information against his old firm,
employees, colleagues, and friends. Some will say he is accepting
responsibility, at least. Some will say self-preservation entitled
him to do this. Some will say Andersen tried to make him the fall
guy, so he had to get them first.
Some will say those things, but no one I respect. I think
ratting out your friends and colleagues by telling their secrets is
one of the lowest things you can do. (Ratting out your daughter by
telling her secrets is worse, Marcia Lewis.) Arthur Andersen’s best
hope now is to seek dispensation under the Americans with
Disabilities Act. No one at the firm seems to have a spine.
Two Brothers, a Dodge Charger, and a Clogged
Toilet
I’m nine years old, in the back seat of the car with Bart, my
younger brother. The family is driving from Detroit to Chicago to
visit relatives. I’m making faces at Bart and stop every time Mom
is about to turn around.
Finally, Bart says, “Dad, Mike’s throwing napkins out the
window.”
As Dad’s disapproval burns through me via the rearview mirror, I
play my trump card. “Bart stopped up the toilet this morning before
we left and didn’t tell you.”
Bart was terrified when he told me about it that morning. I
tried to wrestle with the plunger on his behalf, but succeeded only
in turning the bathroom floor into a swamp. When I think back on
that time, I wish I hadn’t tattled. I also wish I was miles away
when Mom saw the bathroom floor three days later. Eventually,
however, I learned that it’s better to take the blame than to
divert attention to someone else’s mischief, especially if I
learned of that mischief in confidence.
In a Perfect World, Gordon Liddy and Susan McDougal Would
Be Married
Arthur Andersen’s former CEO, Joe Berardino, is no prince either,
nor are the other Andersen partners who crowed to Congress that
Duncan did all this himself. (Even Congress smelled a stinker
there.) But this doesn’t excuse Duncan’s behavior. If Duncan did
wrong, he can fight or give up. But the consequence of his giving
up should be his acceptance of responsibility or at least
resignation to his fate. Blaming some more people just puts him
alongside them in the gutter.
Every stool pigeon has an excuse. John Dean was going to be made
the fall guy of the Nixon White House. Henry Hill was worried about
Jimmy Burke. Sam Gravano was worried about John Gotti.
How will you ever be worthy of someone’s trust — that of a
client, or a friend, or a colleague, or a boss, or an employee, or
a spouse — if your loyalty is negotiable?
When did we become a nation of free agents? Intimacy and
friendship come from loyalty. Responsibility comes from loyalty.
When you’re cornered, you take the punishment. You don’t make your
responsibility disappear by fingering someone else. Regardless of
politics or their belief in their innocence, I respect Gordon Liddy
and Susan McDougal. Both turned down leniency when it was offered
in exchange for implicating their friends.
I don’t enjoy living in a world where every person is
potentially an agent against you because they found a better deal.
You can be the most understanding employer in the world, fair and
caring to your employees in every way. If someone offers them 10%
more money, they’re off to work as the cleaning crew of a Tijuana
whore house. Your business partner could empty the files and the
bank account while you’re on vacation. Someone offered him a better
deal, and who is he to make his children attend a state college
when he loves them enough to give them more?
If people like Joe Berardino and David Duncan exemplify
Andersen’s corporate culture, the firm probably belongs at the
bottom of a dumpster. If I can get over what a shabby operation the
whole place must be, I’ll root for Andersen to fight the
government. I like our government a lot more than I like Arthur
Andersen, but I don’t believe we should buy the testimony of
admitted wrongdoers. I say that Andersen should go down swinging,
and I even give them a decent chance of winning at trial. Then they
can get their wish of making Duncan take the rap alone.
I hope the judge sentences him to a long term, at a place like
our bathroom after we got back from Chicago.
