MB Civic

HOUSTON, we have a verdict. And, if you care about the very future of American business, we also have a bit of a problem.

Because this is about much more than the fate of Kenny Boy Lay and Jeff Skilling. This is about us. The Masters of the Universe. The all-knowing, type-A power mongers in crimson suspenders with bottomless expense accounts. This is about the fate of the prickly, unapologetic, rule-averse tough guys like you and me who run this country, not because we’re particularly talented or charming, but because we have the gift of arrogance. And, until noon Eastern Standard Time yesterday, we were able to wield it like a sword, a pink slip or a box full of Internet stock options, circa 1997.

But now the arrogance card — our arrogance card — is being threatened by so-called rules and accountability and an eight-woman, four-man jury’s interpretation of the truth. Some might say this is not a good day for those of us with the corporate jets, the wardrobe and decorating allowance, the “other” set of books. Some might say this is not a good day for creative accountants, for selling stock while telling your shareholders it’s a bargain, and for everyone with the good old American audacity to ignore their lawyers’ advice to take the Fifth.

Indeed, some might even say this is not a good day for those entertaining clients with the corporate card in the V.I.P. room, or for the strippers whose livelihoods depend on them.

But not me. No sir. Are we to give up the very arrogance that got us here just because a few insanely rich, pathologically correct men have fallen? Some might say our friends at Enron fell because they had it coming. But the truly arrogant, we know better. We say it would never happen to us, because we’d never have gotten caught. And if by some fluke we did, we would have handled it differently.

So, on this somewhat troubling day, I implore you, fellow universe shapers, do not squander your audacity, your pomposity, your God-given right to make bear-hug deals. I urge you to hold fast to your smug demeanor, your all-knowing smirk. Hold fast to your arrogance, or before you know it we’ll be outsourcing that to Bangalore, too.

Shed no tears this morning for Kenneth Lay and Jeffrey Skilling. Keep your chin up — way up — and as an affirmation of our way, do something to make the most out of our special gift. Rather than giving in and playing along with someone’s idea of a code of ethics, may I suggest telling your secretary that you’ve got to go out for “a very important meeting” and getting an early start on this long weekend, on the company. Maybe go antiquing for “office furniture.” Or charge a big old lunch with a fictional client. Or head over to the V.I.P. room of the nearest upscale gentleman’s sports cabaret and run a tab on the corporate plastic. Do it for capitalism. Do it for America. Do it for Kenny Boy.

James P. Othmer is the author of the forthcoming novel “The Futurist.”