Financial fraud is everywhere

Jun 4, JDN 2457909
When most people think of “crime”, they probably imagine petty thieves, pickpockets, drug dealers, street thugs. In short, we think of crime as something poor people do. And certainly, that kind of crime is more visible, and typically easier to investigate and prosecute. It may be more traumatic to be victimized by it (though I’ll get back to that in a moment).

The statistics on this matter are some of the fuzziest I’ve ever come across, so estimates could be off by as much as an order of magnitude. But there is some reason to believe that, within most highly-developed countries, financial fraud may actually be more common than any other type of crime. It is definitely among the most common, and the only serious contenders for exceeding it are other forms of property crime such as petty theft and robbery.

It also appears that financial fraud is the one type of crime that isn’t falling over time. Violent crime and property crime are both at record lows; the average American’s probability of being victimized by a thief or a robber in any given year has fallen from 35% to 11% in the last 25 years. But the rate of financial fraud appears to be roughly constant, and the rate of high-tech fraud in particular is definitely rising. (This isn’t too surprising, given that the technology required is becoming cheaper and more widely available.)

In the UK, the rate of credit card fraud rose during the Great Recession, fell a little during the recovery, and has been holding steady since 2010; it is estimated that about 5% of people in the UK suffer credit card fraud in any given year.

About 1% of US car loans are estimated to contain fraudulent information (such as overestimated income or assets). As there are over $1 trillion in outstanding US car loans, that amounts to about $5 billion in fraud losses every year.

Using DOJ data, Statistic Brain found that over 12 million Americans suffer credit card fraud any given year; based on the UK data, this is probably an underestimate. They also found that higher household income had only a slight effect of increasing the probability of suffering such fraud.

The Office for Victims of Crime estimates that total US losses due to financial fraud are between $40 billion and $50 billion per year—which is to say, the GDP of Honduras or the military budget of Japan. The National Center for Victims of Crime estimated that over 10% of Americans suffer some form of financial fraud in any given year.

Why is fraud so common? Well, first of all, it’s profitable. Indeed, it appears to be the only type of crime that is. Most drug dealers live near the poverty line. Most bank robberies make off with less than $10,000.

But Bernie Madoff made over $50 billion before he was caught. Of course he was an exceptional case; the median Ponzi scheme only makes off with… $2.1 million. That’s over 200 times the median bank robbery.

Second, I think financial fraud allows the perpetrator a certain psychological distance from their victims. Just as it’s much easier to push a button telling a drone to launch a missile than to stab someone to death, it’s much easier to move some numbers between accounts than to point a gun at someone’s head and demand their wallet. Construal level theory is all about how making something seem psychologically more “distant” can change our attitudes toward it; toward things we perceive as “distant”, we think more abstractly, we accept more risks, and we are more willing to engage in violence to advance a cause. (It also makes us care less about outcomes, which may be a contributing factor in the collective apathy toward climate change.)

Perhaps related to this psychological distance, we also generally have a sense that fraud is not as bad as violent crime. Even judges and juries often act as though white-collar criminals aren’t real criminals. Often the argument seems to be that the behavior involved in committing financial fraud is not so different, after all, from the behavior of for-profit business in general; are we not all out to make an easy buck?

But no, it is not the same. (And if it were, this would be more an indictment of capitalism than it is a justification for fraud. So this sort of argument makes a lot more sense coming from socialists than it does from capitalists.)

One of the central justifications for free markets lies in the assumption that all parties involved are free, autonomous individuals acting under conditions of informed consent. Under those conditions, it is indeed hard to see why we have a right to interfere, as long as no one else is being harmed. Even if I am acting entirely out of my own self-interest, as long as I represent myself honestly, it is hard to see what I could be doing that is morally wrong. But take that away, as fraud does, and the edifice collapses; there is no such thing as a “right to be deceived”. (Indeed, it is quite common for Libertarians to say they allow any activity “except by force or fraud”, never quite seeming to realize that without the force of government we would all be surrounded by unending and unstoppable fraud.)

Indeed, I would like to present to you for consideration the possibility that large-scale financial fraud is worse than most other forms of crime, that someone like Bernie Madoff should be viewed as on a par with a rapist or a murderer. (To its credit, our justice system agrees—Madoff was given the maximum sentence of 150 years in maximum security prison.)

Suppose you were given the following terrible choice: Either you will be physically assaulted and beaten until several bones are broken and you fall unconscious—or you will lose your home and all the money you put into it. If the choice were between death and losing your home, obviously, you’d lose your home. But when it is a question of injury, that decision isn’t so obvious to me. If there is a risk of being permanently disabled in some fashion—particularly mentally disabled, as I find that especially terrifying—then perhaps I accept losing my home. But if it’s just going to hurt a lot and I’ll eventually recover, I think I prefer the beating. (Of course, if you don’t have health insurance, recovering from a concussion and several broken bones might also mean losing your home—so in that case, the dilemma is a no-brainer.) So when someone commits financial fraud on the scale of hundreds of thousands of dollars, we should consider them as having done something morally comparable to beating someone until they have broken bones.

But now let’s scale things up. What if terrorist attacks, or acts of war by a foreign power, had destroyed over one million homes, killed tens of thousands of Americans by one way or another, and cut the wealth of the median American family in half? Would we not count that as one of the greatest acts of violence in our nation’s history? Would we not feel compelled to take some overwhelming response—even be tempted toward acts of brutal vengeance? Yet that is the scale of the damage done by the Great Recession—much, if not all, preventable if our regulatory agencies had not been asleep at the wheel, lulled into a false sense of security by the unending refrain of laissez-faire. Most of the harm was done by actions that weren’t illegal, yes; but some of actually was illegal (20% of direct losses are attributable to fraud), and most of the rest should have been illegal but wasn’t. The repackaging and selling of worthless toxic assets as AAA bonds may not legally have been “fraud”, but morally I don’t see how it was different. With this in mind, the actions of our largest banks are not even comparable to murder—they are comparable to invasion or terrorism. No mere individual shooting here; this is mass murder.

I plan to make this a bit of a continuing series. I hope that by now I’ve at least convinced you that the problem of financial fraud is a large and important one; in later posts I’ll go into more detail about how it is done, who is doing it, and what perhaps can be done to stop them.