FILE PHOTO: Elizabeth Holmes, CEO of Theranos, attends a panel discussion during the Clinton Global Initiative's annual meeting in New York, U.S., September 29, 2015. REUTERS/Brendan McDermid/File Photo
We are living in a tortured moment in history. What with the oceans boiling, inequality rising, threats of world war looming and Arsenal lagging behind Tottenham, it is tempting to consider every year that passes as the “worst year ever”. But, let’s be honest, 2020, only a month in, is already shaping up to be a doozy. So far this year, Australia has been on fire, the Wuhan coronavirusis fraying all our nerves and Britain is tearing itself apart over Boris Johnson’s attempts to get Brits to “bung a bob for a Big Ben bong” for Brexit. Oh, and Arsenal still suck.
But among all the bad stuff, there is good bad stuff, perhaps even great bad stuff.I’m talking about grifters. This is a time when a select few men and women, with Olympian levels of shamelessness and preternatural abilities to not tell the truth, have stolen fame, riches and my heart with their daring schemes.
Why do I have such a fondness for those who might be deemed criminals? Well, it’s not the crimes, it’s the psychology of the grifter, the audacious confidence, the stunning lack of self-awareness and the delusional focus.
And no, I’m not alone in this fascination for frauds; there are millions like me who can’t seem to get enough of them and, thankfully, the content mill is churning out articles, essays, books, podcasts, documentary films and television series to sate our needs.
If you are grift-curious, let me get you started, as a rising fashion for con artists has left us spoilt for choice. At the top end, we have the obvious, if boring, examples of the Trump familyand Gwyneth Paltrow’s Goop, which peddles expensive New Age products, such as HK$500 vaginal eggs and HK$600 “This Smells Like My Vagina” candles (sold out, natch). My Spidey sense tells me Paltrow might be fixated with the vagina.
There’s also Elizabeth Holmes, the disgraced founder of the now-defunct medical start-up Theranos, who through dropping her voice a few octaves, refusing to blink and dressing like Steve Jobs managed to con a bunch of rich old white men, including Rupert Murdoch, out of billions.
Then there’s WeWork co-founder Adam Neumann, who has helped to fill books and books with hilarious stories of corporate malfeasance – my favourite being the time Neumann tried to lessen the impact of firing 7 per cent of the company’s staff by inviting the recently unemployed employees to a party featuring a performance by Run-DMC. Reports from the event tell of bemused and angry former staffers being served tequila shots while the band played their hits, including It’s Tricky.
Thanks to Netflix, Billy “Fyre Festival” McFarland has become mainstream infamous, but a more obscure choice for real connoisseurs might be the unbelievable story behind the rise of The Woman in the Window author Dan Mallory. Seek it out and prepare to be dumbfounded.
Anna Sorokin, who tricked her way into New York’s high society by claiming to be a German heiress. Photo: AP
Millennials and zoomers will recognise all too well the tale of Instagram influencer Caroline Calloway but my absolute favourite is the story of Anna Sorokin. A Russian national, Sorokin transformed herself into German heiress Anna Delvey and tricked New York society into bankrolling her lavish life of hotels, holidays and hundred-dollar tips. The story is so good it is being developed into a television show.
I know grifters are bad. I’m not here to litigate the morality of the bilk economy. Due to reality TV, social media and the veneration of celebrity rotting our brains, we find ourselves in an environment where everything is reduced to “lol, nothing matters!”, so it’s not surprising that people try to fake it to make it. Rather than gnash your teeth and get despondent, what I’m suggesting is that when things are bad, there’s no harm and perhaps even enjoyment in looking for the good in the bad.
