Falling Out of Love With Michael Lewis

Do you remember the first time your parents let you down? 

I’m not talking about when you didn’t get what you wanted for Christmas or they didn’t make mac-n-cheese for dinner. No, what I’m talking about is the gut-wrenching sorrow that accompanies the realization that your progenitors are deeply flawed. It is an earth-shaking moment. For many folks it happens when they are teenagers, leading to a period of disillusionment where you are unable to look past your parents’ weaknesses. Eventually, hopefully, you recognize that your parents are imperfect, but they are trying their best, and love them anyway.

This is also a description of my feelings toward author Michael Lewis—except I’m not sure he is even trying his best. 

The man has been a writing hero of mine for over a decade. The Big Short, Lewis's account of a group of hedge funds that predicted the 2008 housing crisis, made finance come alive in a way that I had never encountered before. He made me realize that business is the perfect vehicle by which to study human psychology and society. Companies weren’t all white-collar shirts and tedium—they were human and captivating and messy and fun. Reading Lewis’s work lit a fire in me that has never gone out. It is not an exaggeration to say that his writing led to this newsletter’s existence. 

Which is why it is so hard to read his most recent work, Going Infinite: The Rise and Fall of a New Tycoon, about the FTX scandal. It is a feather duster of a book. It gently caresses Sam Bankman-Fried (SBF), whispering sweet nothings into his ear. 

“Don’t worry, baby, you’re just absent-minded—you only misplaced $8B in customer funds.” 

“It is just so cute how you play video games during meetings.” 

“Hehe, you silly little goose, I love how you wear cargo shorts. It distracts me from the fact that you were sleeping with your direct reports, defrauding investors, and spending hundreds of millions trying to buy Senate votes *blushes*.”