Just call him Cassandra.
Who? Harry Markopolos, that’s who, the man who tried to blow the whistle on Bernie Madoff for nine long years. But nobody heard—or, rather, nobody who was actually in a position to do anything heard him clearly enough.
Markopolos, an accountant and former investment manager from Boston, is having his moment in the sun, that long-awaited chance to say “I told you so.” Although it may give him some personal satisfaction to be vindicated, I doubt it does a whole lot to assuage the frustration he feels at having failed to stop Madoff’s Ponzi scheme before more people got taken in and more damage was done.
Markopolos says as much:
Why would people think I feel good about this?” Markopolos asked at one point in a series of recent interviews. “People think I’m a hero, but I didn’t stop him. He stopped himself.”
Over the past nine years, Markopolos sent detailed and multiple reports to the SEC pointing out red flags in Madoff’s fund operation, all to no avail. He could not get the New York office to understand what he was saying, and it was New York that had jurisdiction.
In an even more ironic note, the SEC head in Boston, Mike Garrity, was listening, understood, and told Markopolos that if he’d had oversight of the case “he would have had an inspection team inside Madoff’s operation the very next day.” But although Madoff’s investors were nation- and world-wide, Boston’s opinion didn’t count.
What was the problem in New York? Why did the top brass at the SEC there ignore what Markopolos colorfully describes as “the equivalent of Major League Baseball player batting .966 and no one suspecting a cheat?”
It’s hard to say for sure, since the former head of the New York SEC (she left the job for personal reasons before the Madoff scandal broke), Meaghan Cheung, seems to be forbidden at this point to say precisely what steps she followed in her investigation of the Madoff threat after she received a heads-up from Markopolos in 2005.
Markopolos thinks Cheung’s problem was that she was mathematically challenged:
In my conversations with her, I did not believe that she had the derivatives or mathematical background to understand the violation,” Markopolos wrote…
As for Markopolos’ reference to her supposed lack of mathematical acumen, Cheung said, “Investigations are conducted by lawyers and examiners and investigators. We have experts available to help us.”
Cheung is a lawyer, not an economist or an accountant or a financial expert. I don’t know how SEC investigations usually work. But if her investigation of Madoff did not involve her calling on the help of a very able accountant or accountants who were trained to detect fraud, then IMHO she would be guilty of gross negligence.
Yes, the math is complex. And yet Markopolos was able to do it. What’s more, Markopolos had given her “a map and a flashlight” to the problems, and yet she could not see them.
How did Markopolos come to believe so strongly in Madoff’s guilt? It was the math, stupid.
In 2000, Markopolos was the resident math whiz at Boston’s Rampart Investment Management when he was asked by his boss to figure out a way to match Madoff’s fabulous double-digit returns by figuring out how Madoff did it. But that proved much easier said than done:
“I’d say, ‘Hey Harry, how come you can’t run a program like this?,’ ” said Frank Casey, a former Rampart colleague who now runs a consulting firm for hedge fund investors.
For Markopolos, though, it was no joke. Again and again he could not simulate Madoff’s returns, using information he had gathered about Madoff’s trades in stocks and options. Madoff seemed to make money whether stock markets went up or down, a red flag to Markopolos.
“You can’t dominate all markets,” Markopolos said. “You have to have some losses.” Also, Madoff seemed unusually secretive, even to his own clients—another warning sign.
But although Markopolos saw the warning signs—and warned about them—it is curious that so few people understood what he was saying, or what to do about it. Markopolos seems to be an unusually tenacious sort of person, motivated by a sense of fairness and justice, as well as intellectual curiosity and excellent math chops. Unfortunately for him, the nation, and Madoff’s clients, these seem to be rare qualities.
The entire mess reminds me somewhat of the plight of Roger Boisjoly, the man who tried to warn of the problems with the space shuttle’s O-rings in the 80s, to no avail. The result? The Challenger explosion. Boisjoly has spent some time afterwards as a speaker on workplace ethics. Would that the New York SEC office had been on his engagement list.