Collaborate with Mark ✅

Collaborate with Mark ✅

🔒 Grifted: The Fall of Arthur Andersen LLP (Subscribers Only Edition)

🕵️‍♂️ Grifted: Volume 2a ++

Mark S. Carroll ✅'s avatar
Mark S. Carroll ✅
May 25, 2025
∙ Paid
1
1
1
Share

Top of the Series: WorldCom — The Telecom Giant That Billed Us for a Fantasy

Previous: Enron — The Energy Empire Everyone Worshipped

🔒 Grifted: The Fall of Arthur Andersen LLP

Subscribers Only Edition
The Audit That Shredded a Legend: Arthur Andersen’s Rise and Ruin


📈 The Rise

🔥 Reputation Forged in Fire

Foundation of Excellence (1885–1990s)

If this were one of those Horatio Alger stories your great-grandparents might’ve read by lamplight, it would begin with a bright, scrappy immigrant kid on the streets of 1885 Chicago. His name? Arthur Andersen.

He was just 23, a son of Norwegian immigrants, when he co-founded an accounting firm that would, over the next century, become a towering symbol of integrity, rigor, and relentless American ambition.

Andersen didn’t believe in shortcuts. He believed in precision. In the gospel of straight talk. In the radical idea that trust should be earned—not assumed.

At a time when accounting was still closer to alchemy than science, he demanded that numbers tell the truth—even when clients didn’t want to hear it. That ethos became a battle cry. And it built a firm with a reputation not just for correctness, but character.

By the mid-20th century, Arthur Andersen LLP was no longer just a midwestern firm. It was an institution. The gold standard. The company you hired when everything had to be exactly right.

Before the scandal, there was the standard. Arthur Andersen, a founder who set the bar for ethics in accounting—and whose name deserved better

🧭 A Legacy Admired by Leaders

It wasn’t just boardrooms in New York or London that revered Arthur Andersen. Its reputation reached across oceans, across eras.

My grandfather, Sam Summers Sr., was one of those leaders who recognized Andersen’s unique place in the financial world. A British World War I veteran who built his postwar career in global accounting, he ventured across the British Empire before eventually settling in Argentina during its golden age—when Buenos Aires was truly the Paris of South America.

He became the CFO of Harrods of Buenos Aires, a remarkable extension of the iconic London brand. During those years, Argentina was booming—flush with European wealth, culture, and vision. Harrods stood tall as a symbol of sophistication and trust in the Southern Hemisphere.

And when you were handling the ledgers of Harrods, during a time when nations rose and fell on financial reputation alone, there was one firm you kept on your radar: Arthur Andersen. Their name, my grandfather always said, meant accounting without compromise. Were that only the case of their consultants by the end of the 20th century.

Granddad spoke of them with admiration. Quiet pride. And above all—respect. Not because they were flashy, but because they were flawless.


🏛️ Dominance in the Audit World

By the 1980s and 90s, Arthur Andersen wasn’t just part of the accounting elite—they were the elite. One of the famed “Big Five” alongside Price Waterhouse Coopers, Deloitte, Ernst & Young, and KPMG.

Their client list read like a Fortune 500 who’s who: global banks, industrial titans, governments, and innovators.

But even titans can lose their footing.

As Andersen’s consulting arm skyrocketed in the 1990s, driven by Silicon Valley’s breakneck growth and deregulated optimism, a subtle fracture formed inside the firm. Auditors were trained to challenge. Consultants were trained to serve. And the line between “What’s right?” and “What does the client want?” grew blurry.

The story of Arthur Andersen’s collapse is not one of corruption by design—but one of cultural erosion by degree. A cautionary tale of a legacy sold off piece by piece in the name of client retention and quarterly wins.

But before that?
Before the shredders, before Enron, before the courtroom?
There was a company built on excellence earned the hard way.
And a name my grandfather—like many—believed stood for something unshakable.


🙏 A Note of Gratitude

Before we dive into the unraveling, I want to pause and offer a sincere thank you to you, our subscribers. Your presence here is more than just appreciated—it’s a gift.

Every comment, question, and insight you share helps shape this work. Your feedback is never background noise—it’s a valued part of the conversation. And as this series continues, know this: your voice will always be treated with the highest regard.

Now, let’s pull the thread.


Joseph Berardino, chief executive of Arthur Andersen, testifying before a House committee in 2002

💣 The Lie

🚨 Trust, Traded for Loyalty 🧯

There’s an old saying in the audit world:
“Trust must be built slowly, but it can be sold off in a single client meeting.”

For over a century, Arthur Andersen had built its brand on trust. But by the late 1990s, something subtle—and then catastrophic—began to shift. It wasn’t a loud betrayal. It was the quiet, boardroom kind. The kind that starts with justifying a decision and ends with losing your soul.

And at the center of that shift stood Enron.

Keep reading with a 7-day free trial

Subscribe to Collaborate with Mark ✅ to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.

Already a paid subscriber? Sign in
Š 2025 Mark S. Carroll
Privacy ∙ Terms ∙ Collection notice
Start your SubstackGet the app
Substack is the home for great culture