hedge fund

What are some of those dangers? 

In a minimum security prison there are gangs. They are not allowed to rove or collect, yet they are there. It’s mostly for mutual protection. There’s generally no pressure to align with a gang when you show up. Outliers in terms of age or socioeconomic background are pretty much left alone. 

You can still do something wrong. It’s unfortunately easy to maintain an attitude of entitlement that wouldn’t be looked upon favorably. Bumped up against people of lesser economic circumstances could lead to an issue. It could be on the chow line. It can be getting a haircut. It can be at the infirmary. Anywhere people have to wait their turn and where they’re not doing that, for example. 

Once you draw attention to yourself, then you can get hurt. I’ve seen people get beat up. I’ve seen people get killed. I never saw a hedge funder or doctor or lawyer or stock broker get killed, but I did see gang members get killed in prison. And I was in a minimum security prison. It was the first time I had ever seen someone get killed in my life. So I help people understand that something like that can happen in a moment with no notice whatsoever. It’s terrifying. 

When people go to prison there’s kind of an egalitarianism that takes over and a relearning state where the things we were supposed to learn in kindergarten get relearned. Please and thank you. 

Respect in prison is mostly a matter of learning what not to say. It can be an incredibly counter-intuitive assignment for the types of people who become Wall Street executives. It is a real comeuppance when they learn that nobody cares about what they have to say about anything, or that if they do it can be for the wrong reasons. In one case, a former hedge funder made the mistake of talking about the sale of his Hamptons property. I think you can imagine some of the difficulties. 

Can they use their money to buy protection? 

Not that I know of. 

These guys must lose a ton of weight and get into shape, right? 

That’s generally true. I lost 60 pounds in prison. That was from my walking and a very specific daily regimen that I embraced. I did pushups and got to the point where I could do 75 in a row. I can only do 35 to 40 now. I’ve put back on a little of the weight [laughs]. 

How do Wall Street skills usually translate in prison? 

I assume by Wall Street skills you mean intellect, ambition, independence, wit, ability to form quick connections. These skills are not only in large degree useless, they are probably counterproductive. More useful are concepts like respect, restraint, care, self-care, compassion, community, transformation, and spirituality. If I had to choose one to remember in prison as I mentioned above, it would begin and end with respect. Of course, respect in prison means something quite different than in a world where people got mostly everything they wanted. 

Here’s my story about how I learned respect in prison: One night, when I was only there about three weeks or so, I was lying on my bunk with a pillow on my face just trying to get some sleep. Or some quiet. Three Latinos were holding a conference of some sort right outside the entrance of our cube. It sounded like they were screaming and yelling at one another. I couldn’t take it so I sat up in bed and screamed for them to “shut the f–k up.” Of course they ignored me. I was lucky that was the end of it. My cellie was sitting on his bunk and stared me down before he asked me if I was trying to get myself killed. I just stared back at him. I told him I couldn’t take the screaming anymore. He looked at me and calmly explained to me that those Latinos were

Are there parallels between your work with those from poorer communities in Connecticut, like Bridgeport, and wealthier ones, like Greenwich? 

The difference is in the communities, not in the people. Places like Bridgeport have an embodied experience of crime, criminal justice and prison. People there live with it in their midst and understand its intricacies. For some, there is no shame in being arrested or going to jail; it’s just part of the deal. In Greenwich, however, prison is so far from the daily life and experience. It’s like a deer getting caught in the headlights. I have found that the only way to minister to those suffering in Greenwich is to bring the two communities closer together so that the experiences and lessons learned by one can be of service to the other. That’s what makes the concept of The Progressive Prison Project so powerful. 

Here’s a piece of useful information that I picked up in Bridgeport that can make a huge quality of life difference immediately. When a hedge funder first gets to prison, his senses are likely to fail him to the point where he is likely forget his own address and phone numbers, and his family’s and friends’, too. Yet, in order to fill out phone call and visitor request forms, he will need all this information. What to do? A couple of days before he reports to prison, he can mail himself the names, addresses and phone numbers. Prison may be a difficult place, but they have to deliver the mail. Brilliant. 

Any other tips? 

Maintenance of a solid long term address and home is important. When it’s time to be released from prison, you have to get released to a home. The problem is that life goes by for the family on the outside. Typically the hedge fund guy in prison isn’t in control of what happens on the outside: the family moves, children get married. If there’s an ability to control one stable piece for as long as that person is in prison, say an apartment–something–then he’s likely to have stable place to come home to which will ease the way for him to be released early and be able to come home early. If a hedge fund guy lives in Connecticut, goes to prison in Pennsylvania, and his wife moves to California, it’s very difficult to get early supervised release because he doesn’t have a place to come home to in his home state. These are issues that can be considered in advance. 

They need advice on getting family in to see you without getting turned away from the visiting room line. It’s not an easy thing to know before you go through it. For example, if females are wearing undergarments with wire bras, they will be thrown off the visiting line and sent away. The metal detector will detect it. It could be perceived as a dangerous object and they won’t check what it actually is. There’s also the drug scanner, which can be used randomly and detects micro amounts of various forms of drugs. You need new or recently washed clothing. Washing up. Not touching money. Not eating breakfast. Not anything where you might come into contact with something that has trace residues of drugs. Money contains huge amounts of trace residues of drugs. Literally when people come to visit they sleep overnight, they get washed up and go right to the line without touching anything and try and get through without these scanners picking up something that might incidentally be on their clothing. 

What do you hope for those from the hedge fund industry during their time in prison? 

Great leaders who have spent time in prison have written about two things they have been able to control: their bodies and attitudes, and their ability to help others. This has been absolutely true in my experience. It is my hope that anybody who is, or might be, heading to prison, uses their time wisely, as a time of great personal transformation in devoting part of each day to mind, body and spirit; and in commitment to helping others. 

What books do you recommend to these guys?

The seminal book for me was “Man’s Search for Meaning” by Viktor Frankl. I also recommend “Letters and Papers from Prison” by Dietrich Bonhoeffer. If people can get through it, “The Gulag Archipelago” by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn. Nelson Mandela’s “Long Walk to Freedom.” The hedge funds guys like all of them. I would rather they identify with the concept of captivity than the concept of being criminals. There’s a transformation within the captivity that they can embrace and learn and grow from if they choose to. Other people have. They don’t have to view themselves from the negative. 

Have you watched any significant transformations? 

I was called a few weeks ago by a former hedge funder I hadn’t met with in a couple of years. He looked like the weight of the world was off his shoulders, had lost thirty pounds, and had a smile ear to ear. He looked nothing like the guy I remembered. He told me that he had been to prison and wanted my help in finding a new career. Without the monkey on his back of his old life and former problems, he felt free. Now, he’s in school to become a drug counselor. 

That’s a noble goal for a lot of ex hedge funders, and it’s one of the professions that are open to them. I also know a hedge funder who has become a social worker. There are a lot of transformation stories. 

Maybe it’s a case of viewing the glass as half full, but almost all I see are great transformations. Stock brokers who are now drug counselors, atheists who have found God, absentee fathers who have renewed relationships with their children. Why not? Most white-collar criminals can’t go back to their old live and careers, so what choice do they really have? Why not embrace a completely new life, with new options and new opportunities? The most fortunate are those who figure out that their attempts to solve problems in isolation did not work, and that they no longer have to go it alone. They figure out that some of us have been there before them and are willing to help. I feel blessed to have these families in my life.

This interview was condensed and edited. 

Originally published in Hedge Fund Intelligence, May 20, 2013