chit clubs
In the mid-1980s, I managed a number of stock portfolios in the Pacific Basin for TIAA-CREF–basically everything except Japan. Mainland China wasn’t yet open to foreigners but could be reached through Hong Kong. The largest market in my area of responsibility was Australia, followed by Hong Kong, Singapore and Thailand. In theory, I was also supposed to cover Indonesia and India. But threats from the head of the BJP and what to me was the dubious nature of financial reporting in both India and Indonesia told me zero weightings for both countries was the best strategy.
Thailand, it turned out, was then a hotspot for a set of Ponzi schemes, known as chit clubs. The most famous was organized by Madam Chamoy, who was reputed to have close ties to the semi-divine royal family. Cub members would come together periodically to meet with Chamoy’s representatives, who would collect deposits and give receipts or “chits,” promising ultra-high interest rates (doubling your money in not much more than a year), to be achieved through investments made via Madam Chamoy’s supposed connections with the royals. The most important proviso: if you ever withdrew money by cashing in a chit, you were banned from making further chit deposits.
Ultimately, some people did redeem, causing the chit clubs to implode. But, for a long time, redemptions were small, and were more than covered by new deposits.
Madoff and the Wilpons
Bernie Madoff is the US equivalent of Madam Chamoy. In fact, in the Madoff case, Harry Markopolos, a financial analyst, tried many times–chronicled in his book No One Would Listen, a True Financial Thriller–to turn Madoff in, but was ignored by the SEC. According to the book, Markopolos had worked for a firm where Madoff made an investment pitch. Afterward, the principals told Markopolos to figure out an investment scheme that would duplicate the Madoff returns. After a lot of work, Markopolos concluded that using public markets there was no way to get the numbers Madoff claimed to have achieved.
Madoff, as I recall from news accounts, said that he screened potential marks very carefully. He would reject anyone he thought might be smart enough to figure out the fraud. …which brings us to the Mets and their plan to pay Bobby Bonilla.
Bobby Bonilla
In 2000, the Wilpons decided to buy out the remaining $5.9 million the Mets owed to Bobby Bonilla. Instead of a cash payment, the parties agreed to pay Bonilla a bit less than $1.2 million, once a year, on July 1, for 25 years, starting in 2011.
The Wilpons had already “passed” the Madoff intelligence test and had become clients. In fact, newspaper reports say the Mets fired the accounting official who insisted Madoff was running a Ponzi scheme and urged the club to withdraw its money. And when the list of Madoff accounts was ultimately published, the Wilpons/Mets figured prominently by number of accounts–not necessarily meaning the most money, however.
How did the Wilpons get the the apparently wacky formula they used to pay Bonilla? Who knows? However,,,,
,,,suppose the Wilpons deposited $4 million with Madoff. At 12% interest, that would rise to about $12 million by 2011, or enough to generate slightly more in interest income from then on than the $1.2 million needed to pay Bonilla. So the Wilpons would put away $4 million for Bonilla instead of $6 million. and would still have the $4 million principal amount (worth maybe $1.3 million in year 2000 dollars) remaining in the account a quarter-century down the road. (Where did I get the 12% interest? It was the smallest number that worked.)
In other words, in the Wilpons’ dream world, they’d be paying a bit less than half in real terms of what the original contract called for.