Now that Enron has been shunted off the front pages and left to squirm under
Congressional microscopes, it’s time to rethink how our judicial system can
most effectively respond to white collar criminals who consciously—or through
the convenience of willful ignorance— inflict so much harm on so many.
Given a government whose tax, banking and regulatory codes are in no small
measure authored by Fortune 500 operatives, it will be a miracle if the
corporate perps don’t all vanish like white rabbits down ready-made offshore
loopholes. But if there’s a shred of integrity left in our republic,
eventually some of the key players will be found criminally liable, not merely guilty of reprehensible business practices. And when that time comes, we
need be as creative with our punishment as they were with their accounting
practices.
While the nation waits for the Justice Department to cough up indictments and
the SEC to grow teeth, it’s safe to say that, over the past few months,
outrage has been the preponderant response to every new revelation of
evidence shredding, debt concealing, energy supply manipulating and political
favor dispensing in the epic spectacle that was Enron. But before we scream
off with their heads, it’s worth considering that most people who do evil
things are not inherently evil: they are sick
And greed is but one manifestation of the disease we understand as addiction.
Anyone who devotes their life to the maniacal pursuit of profit uber alles—
irrespective of who gets mangled in their wake—is psychologically impaired,
to say the least. You cannot cripple the financial lives and futures of
people who placed their trust in you without having abandoned your own moral
center (presuming you had one to begin with).
Should you doubt the perversity of their intentions, recall that these were
the same men who named their shell corporations Raptor (homage to a bird of
prey or "one who seizes by force"; tellingly, the root of the word is rape),
and Condor, a type of vulture, "a person or thing that preys greedily or
unscrupulously." And, in the case of Enron, that creature did not feast on
carrion, but on the still-pulsating viscera of its employees and
shareholders—a more than symbolic act of cannibalism.
Seen in this light, Enron’s corporate malefactors can rightly be viewed as
wealth-and-power addicts who need help just as desperately as any stark
raving crackhead.
This is not for a moment to suggest that the Enron-Anderson cabal escape jail
time. On the contrary. Much as judges remand drunk drivers to AA, so, too,
should the prison sentences of felonious executives include mandatory
participation in an applicable 12-step program such as Debtors Anonymous.
With the support of fellow addicts, they would learn that insatiable greed
usually masks core insecurity and scarcity issues. Left untreated, these
psychic wounds can lead to the moral anorexia that characterizes a life of
corporate crime. Fortunately, given enough years practicing spiritual
surrender and humble self-scrutiny, most people can been restored to reason
and eventually return to polite society to serve some useful purpose.
Essential to this transformation is the making of amends to those that the
addict has harmed: economic restitution for the human casualties is the
obvious first step. In the case of Enron, there are enough injured parties to
constitute numerous class-action lawsuits. And while I fully support the
vigorous prosecution of these claims, and the recouping of as many pension
funds and severance packages as possible, we can do more to vaccinate society
against the spread of Enronitis.
White-collar criminals who ravage millions of lives at the stroke of an
accounting pencil need to face their victims, listen to their stories and
yes, feel their pain. Picture a prison, somewhere in Texas, its visiting area
overflowing with former Enron employees and their families anticipating a
good long talk with Messrs. Lay, Fastow and Skilling. Perhaps these sessions
could be televised so all the world might bear witness to the consequences of
executive hubris.
Which naturally invites us to move up the food chain and bring justice—and,
ultimately, one hopes, healing—to those who drank deep at the beast's tainted
trough: our Senators, regulators, and the squatters in the White House. Truth
is: whether it’s cocaine trafficking, insider trading or influence peddling,
criminal behavior is an outgrowth of some form of psychopathology that begs
for treatment just as fiercely as it demands jail time. And in a just
world—the world we must now create—no one would be able to buy their way out
of either.
Lisa Martinovic is a screenwriter and slam poet at www.slaminatrix.com A slightly different version of this article appeared in the San Francisco Chronicle on March 17, 2002.
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