TWO CRIMINALS, BUT SAME CRIME

Walking in the mall one afternoon this week, I came face-to-face with a
young man loaded down with bags, all bearing labels of expensive shops. He
was wearing the uniform of the street drug trade: body- hugging sleeveless
undershirt, prominently logoed mid-calf-length pants and designer sneakers.
As the youth strutted toward me in a kind of hip-hop prance, I mentally
reminded myself that I should draw no hasty conclusions about him or the
chains around his neck or the gaudy jewelry on his wrists and fingers. They
could bespeak nothing more than adolescent addiction to the styles shown in
music videos.

Trying to turn off my thoughts about the devastating blows that crack
cocaine and other drugs have dealt our neighborhoods, I said, "Hello," and
he turned and smiled. That was when I saw that every tooth in the front of
his mouth was capped with gold. It also was when -- justified or not -- I
yielded to the temptation to profile him as a drug dealer.

For years, I preferred to believe that low-level street dealers are
unwittingly so alienated from mainstream society that they have no qualms
about conducting a trade that ruins people's lives, destroys families and
decimates communities. Despite evidence to the contrary when it comes to
those at the upper levels of drug trafficking, I believed that only
desperate straits -- lack of education, poverty and other dehumanizing
experiences -- could drive one to peddle narcotic poison where one lives. I
embraced that theory because it was the only logic I could summon to
explain a magnitude of greed capable of canceling all human integrity and
compassion.

Later that day, watching the congressional hearings on corruption in
corporate America, I further concluded that whether a conscienceless
businessman is at the bottom or at the top of America's social pecking
order, unbridled lust for material wealth and status is the factor that
overwhelms all consideration of how one's actions may cause others to
suffer. The CEO who cooked the company books to generate paper profits and
reap for himself lucrative bonuses is the soul mate of the street dealer.
Though the two wear different uniforms, both predators' motive is the same.
Greed, not need, has been driving our economy.

Two decades ago, when the drug trade began to thrive in Miami, banks
allowed customers to deposit large sums of money without checking to
confirm that the money was legitimate. Banks now are supposed to report
cash transactions of $10,000 or more. That self-serving focus, which
accommodated top-level drug traffickers, also permitted three of the Sept.
11 hijackers to open American bank accounts to carry out their missions of
terrorism.

Street thugs hook their customers with bargain prices that escalate over
time. Corporate thugs seduce their employees and other customers to invest
in depreciating stock to shore up a sinking market, thus allowing the top
dogs to skim off the profits. Both dealers are willing to sacrifice the
general welfare to gratify their greed.

The difference? The most hopeless victims of the low-level drug dealers are
highly visible in the inner cities. The less-visible prey of the corporate
leaders more likely will be found in middle-class communities and the
suburbs. There, retirement plans are dropping, every drop precipitated by
the unethical practices of businessmen who rigged the rules to create
formulas and business strategies that hide more information than they
disclose. The conductors on the journey to this dangerous pass are arrogant
corporate executives who often had in their pockets politicians -- Democrat
and Republican -- whose priority is getting more money for their campaigns.

Once upon a time, public censure helped to keep greed in check. Rather than
censure, today we tend to show respectful deference, even adulation, for
those who have material wealth, no matter how they got it.

Facing an economic crisis with worldwide implications, President Bush has
promised that convicted corporate criminals will serve jail time. If so,
the bottom-feeders and the top-feeders finally will meet each other on
common ground.

On the other hand, cancel that thought. Any executives who do time probably
will be housed in a country-club prison. Unlike drug-related crime,
corporate crime is considered nonviolent.