“But even here the story’s messier than its broad outlines. For a start, the guy who had the most invested in A.I.G. F.P. was Joe Cassano. Cassano had been paid $38 million in 2007, but left $36.75 million of that inside the firm. His financial interest in A.I.G. F.P. struck those who worked for him as secondary to his psychological investment: the firm was, by all accounts, Cassano’s sole source of self-worth, its success his lone status symbol. He wore crappy clothes, drove a crappy car, and spent all of his time at the office. He had made huge piles of money ($280 million!), but so far as anyone could tell he didn’t spend any of it. “Joe wasn’t a trader and now he wasn’t a risktaker, in his personal life,” says one of the traders. “With the money he didn’t have in the company he bought Treasury bonds.” He had no children, no obvious social ambition; his status concerns seemed limited to his place in the global financial order. He entertained a notion of himself as the street-smart guy who had triumphed over his social betters—which of course implied that he wasn’t quite sure that he had. “Joe had Goldman envy,” one trader tells me—which was strange, as Cassano’s brother and sister both worked for Goldman Sachs. “His whole life was F.P.,” another trader says. “Without F.P. he had nothing.” That was another reason, in addition to fear, that the highly educated, highly intelligent people who worked for Joe Cassano were slow to question whatever he was doing: he was the last person, they assumed, who would blow the place up. ”
