Anatomy of a Con
One person I interviewed told me: “If you’re trying to understand why he did it, I don’t think that’s going to be a satisfying story to write, because it’s never going to make sense.” She was right.
How was your 2023? I spent much of the last year trying to find breadcrumbs left by an accused con man. Across multiple states and two continents, the man has been suspected of—and convicted for—numerous scams, cons, and financial irregularities. He’s an international chameleon who has gone by different names. He raised hundreds of thousands of dollars in Colorado from respected foundations and venture capitalists. He won prestigious awards and hobnobbed with powerful politicians. And now he is missing.
My article that details all of this, “The Mysterious Mr. Clark,” was published two weeks ago, and ever since then I’ve been receiving emails, tips, and comments. These include additional allegations of theft and impropriety that I hadn’t been aware of—a couple of them quite alarming. Other commenters have been grappling with the same question I did as I tracked down victims and pieced together a 17-year history of deceit, financial chaos, and damaged relationships:
Why?
For those of you who haven’t yet read the piece, one important thing to know is that the subject of the reporting—who at various times went by the names Perrin Clark, Paul Clark, and Aaron Clark—is a Black man who in some instances claimed his nonprofit and business ventures supported the causes of equity and diversity. He raised his most money in the aftermath of the 2020 Black Lives Matter protests. But when Clark failed to pay employees and contractors, and abused the trust of people around him, the people he damaged the most were fellow Black business owners and DEI consultants who were doing genuine and good work.
I bring this up because I’ve seen a few politically-tinged responses to the article on Reddit and Twitter/X that are something along the lines of: See, this story just goes to show you that all DEI is grift. That is neither the message of my investigation nor, I think, a fair reading of the story. Yes, it’s true that Clark started a DEI consultancy while he was active in Colorado in 2020 and 2021. But the web of accusations that surrounds him involves many different types of businesses—not just DEI work—and stretches back in time to before DEI was as common in the lexicon. In fact, Clark has been under a cloud of suspicion for a long time. And this is not a story of a Robin Hood who only took his money from white-owned corporations and the powers that be. Many, if not most, of Clark’s self-proclaimed victims, from the very first businessman he was convicted of stealing nearly $200,000 from in a criminal case in California, were Black professionals and people of color. By the time Clark landed in Colorado, he was in a position to hurt the legitimate efforts of DEI consultants not because he typified their line of work, but because he was such a high-profile, dishonest exception.
Still, that leaves us with questions of intent. As one editor with Longreads, which selected the article as one of its 5 favorite picks for the first week of 2024, put it: “why would someone with the ability to really make an impact resort to this?”
Another person I interviewed went so far as to caution me. “If you’re trying to understand why he did it, I don’t think that’s going to be a satisfying story to write, because it’s never going to make sense.”
Despite that warning, I tried. And sure enough, the further I got into the reporting, the more prescient the words seemed. While I did (spoiler alert) get to interview Clark at the end of my investigation, the “why” behind his actions remains slippery. On the one hand, there’s Clark’s version: everything can be chalked up to naivete, good intentions gone awry, and mistakes. But what if something happened in Clark’s life that led towards more nefarious aims?
I think the closest I got to identifying a period of change came when I received an envelope full of court documents from a 2009 criminal case in Napa Valley, California. Clark and an ex-wife had been accused of embezzling over $100,000 from an artisanal sausage company, and they pleaded no contest to 31 criminal charges. Before the sentencing hearing, dozens of the Clark’s friends and family members submitted letters of support that begged the judge for leniency. I didn’t have enough space in the magazine to include the letters in the story, but in them, you can see what appears to be genuine befuddlement from people close to Clark, only 29 years old at the time, that he should be accused of such serious crimes.
Here are excerpts from three different letters (highlighting mine):
Reading these letters 15 years later while balancing what I know from numerous victims, I feel empathy for the friends, family members, and supporters who wrote so passionately on Clark’s behalf. A few of them mentioned in their letters that Clark had never been in trouble before the sausage case, and I believe that’s true—I couldn’t find any evidence to suggest he was. But in short order, even after serving jail time for embezzlement, Clark would find himself the subject of fresh accusations, and even another criminal indictment. If the 2009 case was really Clark’s first brush with trouble and criminal wrongdoing, something after that changed. Or perhaps something in him changed. I don’t know exactly what it was, but 2009 appears to be the time frame when something fundamental shifted—especially important relationships. After all, the way those same letter writers reacted when I reached out to them in 2023, asking if they wanted to talk about Clark, said a lot. Most didn’t respond.
Another emailed a response with only one word, all caps and without punctuation.
“NO”
They weren’t rallying to Clark’s defense this time.
So how often can a single incident change someone so deeply in this way? We’re literally talking about church boy to devious con.