This is the story of the world’s greatest university,
rich, secure, inviolate, invulnerable… arrogant… ripe for the
taking.
This is the story of a talented young man, not
merely good at lying, deception, prevarication
and hoodwinkery… but (though connoisseurs of
such matters may cavil) great.
This is the story of a young man so keen to
have the good things in life that he was willing
to sell his soul to get them… and of parents
who so loved their son that they were willing
to put him in prison to redeem him.
This is the story of the highest university officials
who thought this unthinkable thing could never happen…
and who drank deep from the chalice of
chagrin and public humiliation when it did.
This is the story of peers who, when forced
to confront this tale found that the perpetrator
was cute and desirable… and therefore deserving
of understanding, absolution, and a date.
This is the tale of Adam B. Wheeler. And I
suspect you will find it as riveting as I did
for, verily, it is a true tale of our times and,
therefore, irresistible and completely appalling.
Ole!
Adam B. Wheeler, a boy in a hurry
Adam B. Wheeler, by all accounts, was an average
student, neither good nor bad, outstanding in
no way, prosaic in all. However, such a boy could
dream… and Adam B. Wheeler did so dream… of
a place called Cambridge and a college called
Harvard, where sport the irresistible jeunesse
doree. Adam dreamt… then despaired… for
Harvard looked for the exceptional and Adam
was merely average and hence beneath Harvard’s
notice.
So this average boy took the first extraordinary
decision of his life: he decided to risk all to escape
from the usual, the hackneyed, the average, the
dull, the prosaic. He decided, in short, to invent
the vehicle that would give him escape; he decided
to craft himself.
Years later, at Adam’s fraud trial, his lawyer Steven
Sussman, Esq. said “There is no answer to why Adam
did this. ” But Mr. Sussman, like so many adults involved
in this case, was wrong. Sussman has forgotten what
it is like to walk high school corridors and be nothing
more than one of a mass, faceless, dull, average,
forgettable. Adam knew that feeling… and, with growing
insistence, was ready to do everything, anything to
rise and get out of this situation… to take his place, however
wrongly, amongst the best and brightest of his generation. The
quickest way to do that, he concluded, was by mastering the
potent and practical arts of the fraudulent presentation, prevarication,
deception.
And so, Adam B. Wheeler commenced, by diligent study,
an ascension of trickery where each step successfully encountered
fueled the next. He submitted a plagiarized school essay and
winning the prize discovered the ease of deceit,
thereby engendering more and greater boldness.
Audacity, he discovered, could be created by successful
deceptions, which also delivered a plethora of benefits — money,
social recognition, the compliments of teachers and peers, the
thrilling feeling that he was “somebody”… and, all important,
further insights into how to rise higher still on his new skills and
expanding confidence. Adam B. Wheeler was moving… so fast that
goals once unimaginable were now within his grasp.
And so he grabbed.
Proud Bowdoin College with its picture-perfect campus gave
Adam a place by deceit. But Adam wanted, had always wanted more.
For such damnation as he was willing to risk, he demanded the
very best.
So, then, fair Harvard’s turn. Adam, now almost through his
apprenticeship of deft manipulation, doctored his College
Board scores and forged letters of recommendation. These
were panegyrics of such transcendence that in a
more perfect world they would have moved Harvard to
contact him rather than he condescending to contact them.
And so Harvard, confident its summit could not be so
breached, became Adam’s trophy, too… and , with its welcome
acceptance, gave him, he well knew, life’s ticket to privilege,
deference, and open doors everywhere. It was thrilling, heady…
dangerous because the very ease and extent of success caused
hubris, the most dangerous thing of all.
Adam B. Wheeler became an Icarus with no Daedalus to counsel
and advise. But even Icarus, with such a wise and seasoned
advisor at hand, was so fueled by arrogance and the certainty that
only the young possess, even well-advised Icarus flew too high, too soon, too
close to the sun… and so, his wings melting, plunged into death.
What chance, then, had still-learning Adam B. Wheeler to
know, so soon in life, the virtue of restraint? Icarus-like, he
chose to fly too fast, too high, eschewing restraint because
constant victories were so exciting and gratifying…and, he had proved,
so easy.
However his fall, inevitable though he never knew it, was, in
the classical tradition, sharp, painful, ironic. Continuing
to want the best, he fabricated a fake straight A Harvard
transcript and aimed to grab a Fulbright or even a Rhodes
scholarship, much desired, achieved by only the elite,
amongst whom he insisted to be.
However, grinning fate was at hand with Adam’s
nemesis.
It was his parents, the good, decent, profoundly
appalled creators of Adam B. Wheeler, his mom and
dad. To save him, they laid him low, beginning his unravelling
with a call to the chagrined Harvard officials whose
certainty and carelessness had moved Adam so appreciably
forward. They, powered by revenge and sanctimonious
moralizing, happily pounced, determined to end his career
and make sure This Could Never Happen Again. His
Harvard status was rescinded…. his trial ensued. His
conviction inevitable, he plea-bargained, admitting
culpability and accepting restitution for all funds and
prizes falsely won. Prison was avoided but shame was
not. It was the end of Adam B. Wheeler.
Or was it?
In the blog of the Crimson, Harvard’s student
newspaper, another stream was unexpectedly
running. Here the story took another turn, for
many bloggers (not just women either) saw what
“Daniel” saw: “He really is totally adorable. He probably gets
away with half of his shenanigans because people
look into those big blue eyes and see the floppy hair
and think he’s adorable”. Ah, too fetching to be guilty, much
less locked away.
It was, under these circumstances, no doubt wise
of the judge in his sentencing order of December 16, 2010
to prevent Adam from enjoying any financial gains from
his story from books, stage, and screen. It’s sad, though,
for local boy-made-good Matt Damon, who would have done full
justice to this tale of Cambridge, a place he knows so well. However,
no doubt in due time, Adam B. Wheeler will find a way
around this (temporary) obstacle. I hope so, for I long to
see this film.
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