In the courtroom, witnesses and the accused are required to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. How do we really know if what people are saying is the truth? Frankly, we don’t. Sometimes the evidence is glaringly opposed to what someone says. Sometimes we might just have an odd feeling that something doesn’t add up. In the end, we base our entire judicial system on the basis that people are telling the truth. James B. Stewart gives an in-depth exploration of four very famous liars.

Martha Stewart, Scooter Libby, Barry Bonds, and Bernard Madoff are all high profile cases. Attached to each case was a string of lies that involved a cast of characters, all lying to protect themselves, their friends and families, and their money and/or reputations. In the concluding chapter, Stewart suggests that they may be sociopathic, but he also makes a broader statement about criminal justice. “A society that depends only on prosecutors and the judicial system to curb perjury will never succeed” (p.436).

This book was well-written, and I learned a great deal about each of these cases. Unfortunately, I learned so much that I was overwhelmed with facts and names. The depth was a bit much for me personally. When writing about legal cases, the need to include all of the details is integral, and I can imagine the difficulty sifting through the records to bring forth the gems from the minutiae. He did a remarkable job.

James Stewart’s collection of four true stories about perjury, dishonesty, and bald-faced lies reads like a fast-paced mystery novel. His first subject is Martha Stewart, who was convicted in March 2004 of charges related to an insider-trading scandal. Martha came into unsolicited “inside” information, and in a knee-jerk reaction, immediately sold her stock in ImClone Systems. Sounds reasonable, except that’s called insider trading, and it’s illegal. Her real troubles, though, began when she lied about the circumstances of the sale and then stuck to her story, even after investigators repeatedly gave her opportunities to recant. In the end, she made a business decision: she would rather serve a prison sentence than admit to a wrongdoing that would disappoint her fans.

It’s a common enough tactic. As long as wrongdoers insist on their innocence, there are always people who will believe the claim, regardless of how convincing the evidence. I have to admit, my immediate reaction was one of sympathy. At first blush, it seems like something that could happen to any of us--an unthinking reaction to an attack on our property. Would I have had the discipline to forego taking action on such a tip? The irony of the situation is that Martha only saved $46,000 by her illegal action--less than the cost of her defense, I would think, and hardly worth the millions she must have lost in business income by being sidetracked.

The subject of James Stewart’s second tale is Lewis “Scooter” Libby, who stuck to his lie, even after others began to shift their save-ass stories to align with the facts that were coming to light. No, he wasn’t the only one to lie; he was just the only one to refuse to revise his lie as bits and pieces of truth emerged. The Big Lie became the star of an investigation that began in 2003 as an inquiry into a serious matter of national security: who had leaked the name of a CIA operative to the press? At the completion of the investigation, no fewer than three big names admitted to inadvertently dropping Victoria Plame’s name in conversations with journalists. Only Scooter Libby never admitted his error, even after being faced with the incontrovertible evidence. Not only did he fail to admit what he had done, his fabrications in lieu of truth were easily disproved--and he did not waiver even then. Among those who revealed Plame’s identity, the only person who paid the high price was Libby, and he was prosecuted for perjury, not for revealing Plame’s identity.

The last two narratives of well-known prevaricators cover Barry Bonds (who reportedly lied under oath during an investigation of steroid use) and the infamous Bernie Madoff, who is credited with bringing the world to its knees with the pyramid scheme to end all pyramid schemes. Bonds apparently suffers from an overprivileged childhood and a case of incredible arrogance. Madoff reads like a classic sociopath.

The most interesting revelation to me about the Madoff investigation is that the assembly-line mentality of the young SEC lawyers, working on their careers instead of investigating their cases, resulted in the Madoff scam catapulting from $20 billion to $65 billion before he was stopped. Each and every one of the investigators believed Madoff was lying, but guessed it was about nothing of consequence, as if the lying in and of itself was of no consequence. If we pass the buck upline, we find an SEC who hired attorneys not by their knowledge of how the market works but by the grades they made in law school. None of the SEC attorneys involved in the Madoff investigation understood the fundamentals of stock trading. One positive outcome, if any can be found, is that the SEC now trains its attorneys in stock-trading basics.

Stewart caps off his storytelling with a commentary on the theme of his subtitle: “How False Statements Are Undermining America.” Early on, he speaks his opinion through the words of the prosecuting attorney in the Martha Stewart case: “The laws that are being enforced in this case are designed to make sure that investigators can fairly evaluate facts based on the truth. That is the point. It is important. And those laws must be enforced to keep the integrity of government investigations.”

I’m less than a quarter way through the book, and I have forgotten it is about truth.

In the case of Martha Stewart, the author’s account seems to be conclusive, mainly because three people--the stockbroker’s assistant, Martha Stewart’s best friend and one of her employees--could not bring themselves to lie under oath. In the case of Scooter Libby, it is unlikely that all of the lies and all of the liars will ever be uncovered. At the time, it was widely believed that the White House had foisted a lie on the American people to further justify the war in Iraq, and then outed Victoria Plame to get even with her husband for exposing the truth . . . and to send a message to anyone else who may have been in a position to come up against the administration’s agenda. No proof of these allegations has ever been found. Reporting without comment, the facts leave open the possibility that both the president and the vice president perjured themselves. James Stewart gives this possibility a wide berth, never so much as suggesting it. Perhaps it was the complete lack of mention that for the first time caused me to consider it. Bush’s memoir quotes Vice President Cheney as saying, “I can’t believe you’re going to leave a soldier on the battlefield.” To some, this constitutes a hint that Libby lied out of loyalty and perhaps even a personal belief that the truth would harm the country. Ever the professional, the author never hints at any of these possibilities, offering only the available facts.

Not surprisingly, most people will go to great lengths to hide their sins against society. Somehow, breaking the law is seen as a rebellious act against an oppressive parent or mysterious “them,” the authority that squeezes the joy out of life. Too few of us are keenly aware that violating a law is an act of aggression against our friends, neighbors and country.

Author James Stewart calls upon defense attorneys to follow the law and code of ethics, to stop turning a blind eye when their clients lie under oath. “A society that depends only on prosecutors and the judicial system to curb perjury will never succeed,” Stewart warns. He calls for “moral outrage” that demands nothing short of the truth.

Is it true, as ferociously declared by Jack Nicholson’s character in the film A Few Good Men, that we just “can’t handle the truth”? In a society reared on tattle-tale tit, that rewards those who never cry “foul,” can we be as good as we ought to be when faced with the exposure of our lapses in integrity? Stewart asks us to avoid the outlaw mentality that encourages lies to protect friends, family or clients. “To elevate loyalty over truth is to revert to the rule of the tribe or class, where power and brute force decide all conflicts,” he writes. ( )