By Chuck Gallagher | Business Ethics Keynote Speaker and Author
The news recently brought another stark reminder of how easily ethical boundaries can blur, or rather, be willfully ignored, when former attorney Tom Girardi attributed a $15 million client theft to “accounting errors” before his sentencing. As someone who has spent years dissecting the anatomy of ethical lapses, this explanation, frankly, rings hollow. It’s a convenient, almost clichéd, deflection that we hear far too often when someone is caught with their hand in the cookie jar.
Let’s be clear: “accounting errors” typically refer to miscalculations, data entry mistakes, or perhaps even a software glitch. They don’t generally involve the systematic misappropriation of millions of dollars from clients. That’s not an “error”; that’s a choice. And it’s a choice that reflects a profound breakdown of integrity and a complete disregard for the trust placed in a professional.
Think about it. When you’re dealing with other people’s money, especially in a fiduciary capacity as a lawyer is, the expectation of meticulous financial management isn’t just a suggestion – it’s a fundamental ethical and legal obligation. To claim that such a significant sum went missing due to mere “errors” suggests either an astounding level of incompetence, which itself is a breach of professional duty, or, far more likely, a deliberate act shrouded in the guise of negligence.
This isn’t just about Tom Girardi; it’s about a pattern we see repeated in various industries. When individuals are confronted with the consequences of their unethical actions, the immediate impulse for some is to find a scapegoat – and “accounting errors” makes for a wonderfully impersonal and seemingly excusable one. It attempts to shift the blame from individual culpability to an abstract system, as if the money simply vanished into a spreadsheet abyss.
But money doesn’t just “err” itself out of an account. It’s moved, transferred, or withheld by human hands and human decisions. The responsibility for financial integrity ultimately rests with the individual in charge, whether that’s an attorney, a CEO, or a bookkeeper. There are checks and balances, audits, and oversight mechanisms precisely to prevent “errors” of this magnitude. If those mechanisms failed, the question isn’t just how they failed, but who allowed them to fail, and why.
The ethical imperative here is clear: Own your mistakes. When an ethical line is crossed, whether it’s a minor transgression or a multi-million dollar theft, true accountability begins with acknowledging the wrongdoing. Blaming “accounting errors” is not only disingenuous, but it also erodes public trust even further. It sends a message that one is unwilling to face the consequences of their actions head-on, preferring to hide behind a technicality rather than demonstrating genuine remorse and a commitment to restitution.
As professionals, we are entrusted with significant responsibilities. Our integrity is our most valuable asset. When that integrity is compromised, and the excuse offered is as flimsy as “accounting errors” for what is clearly theft, it’s a disservice not only to the victims but to every honest professional who strives to uphold the highest ethical standards.
The lesson from cases like Girardi’s is not just about financial oversight, but about the profound importance of personal responsibility and the corrosive nature of evasion. True leadership and ethical conduct demand that we stand accountable for our actions, not outsource our blame to an impersonal ledger. Only then can we begin the long road to restoring trust and upholding the principles that should guide every profession.
Your thoughts and comments are welcome!
