Why are people so delighted with the fall of Elizabeth Holmes? | Emma brockes

TMinutes before the verdict was announced in Elizabeth Holmes’ trial on Monday, reporters in San Jose, California, tweeted a notice that the jury had returned. The news hit Twitter like oil in a hot skillet, causing not just anticipation, but a shiver of spite. Holmes, whose outfits over the course of the 15-week trial (scruffy, pale, and harmless) were interpreted as an invention equal to the black turtlenecks before them, is not a sympathetic figure, and there is always satisfaction in seeing trusted scammers. shout. But the level of enjoyment in his ruin, it seems to me, falls outside the normal range. Ha, I thought childishly when the guilty verdict came. “He deserves it”.

This was a particular and not entirely flattering form of schadenfreude. Holmes was found guilty of defrauding his investors on four counts; was found not guilty of four charges related to defrauding patients; and the jury was unable to reach a verdict on three more charges. In all likelihood, he will go to jail, and the sheer number of numbers involved – Holmes let investors down to the beat of the tune. of almost a billion dollars – will affect the length of your sentence. None of which fully explains the extent of the contempt for women. I can’t summon one particular face or true antipathy towards Enron’s board members. I loathe the architects of the 2008 financial crisis in a vague way that has never been attached to a single image. Here is Holmes, however, with his too red lipstick and thinning hair; and a violent wave of aversion arises.

Obviously, there are sexist biases involved, that knowing that they are such does not help to neutralize them. The woman question aside, however, it is clear that in the popular imagination, Holmes is charging the can for a great deal of arrogance with impunity. Jeff Bezos with his ridiculous space hobby; The same goes for Elon Musk, with his crazy tweets and, if we are going to put hair on, a ridiculous solution to baldness. If Holmes did something shady to investors, his greatest crime was being part of a wealthy class that has cut itself off from the rest of humanity. It makes you think of Leonardo da Vinci: were there people sitting in the coffee shops of early 16th century Florence, complaining about how stupid he was and waiting for his imminent demise? Did we feel that way when Martha Stewart fell?

One could dismiss the whole thing as class envy if it weren’t tied to a deeper dismay over the world we’ve seemingly sleepwalked through, one in which con artists and influencers from Silicon Valley have come to inherit Earth. Most of them appear to be bomb-proof. Liars and plagiarists can go unnoticed for a few years, before showing up to start selling nonsense again. What makes it worse is that, for a few years, many of us drank Kool-Aid willingly. Facebook allowed us to stay in touch with distant friends and family. Social media democratized marginalized voices. Getting a taxi was easier than ever. All these things may be true, but they are not the whole truth, particularly at this time of year when one is encouraged to take stock and remember, sternly, that happiness is sitting on a rock reading a book or learning to play. the harp. Instead, here we go again, passed out on the couch not just scrolling, but scrolling in hate.

Which brings us to Elizabeth Holmes. What happened at Theranos, the creation of fake blood testing technology, was not a “victimless crime,” but the victims, according to the court, were a brave group of venture capitalists who are safe to say that no one will be stealing. . a quick crowdfunding campaign for. Taken another way, and bypassing the patients for whom this technology was intended, Holmes almost did us a favor, exposing the credulity of a system that only seeks to make a profit. But that was not how it landed. The story had nothing to do with me, I thought, not for the first time, but there it was; a shudder of satisfaction when the verdict came, which was only vaguely related to justice.