The Game on the Other Screen
Partway through the call, the founder was playing a video game.
This is the detail everyone remembers, and it is worth slowing down for, because it is a strange thing to remember about a pitch that brought in more than $200 million. Sam Bankman-Fried was on a video call with partners from Sequoia Capital, describing how FTX, his cryptocurrency exchange, would become a "super app," a single place where a person could hold, trade, send, and spend anything that had a price. On another screen he was playing League of Legends. The investors were, by their own later account, "incredibly impressed." One of them called it "one of those your-hair-is-blown-back type of meetings." Sequoia invested. The Financial Times, after everything, looked into his record in the game and judged his win ratios "average-to-bad."
The meeting worked because of the other screen, not in spite of it. A founder who could raise money with half his attention seemed to have more of it than anyone else in the room. The game read as proof of surplus: a mind so fast it had capacity left over for a multiplayer battle arena. Nobody asked what was on the screen they couldn't see, because the founder had already shown them one they weren't supposed to see, and the gesture felt like candor.
On November 9, 2022, Sequoia wrote its stake in FTX down to zero, a loss of about $214 million. It took down a glowing 13,000-word profile of Bankman-Fried from its website and put a short notice to its own investors in its place. The money had moved in a loop. Bankman-Fried had put $200 million of his own into Sequoia, so the firm that had funded him had also been one of the places his money went. Two days later FTX, its sister trading firm Alameda Research, and more than 100 affiliated entities filed for bankruptcy in Delaware. The man appointed to run what was left, John J. Ray III, had supervised the remains of Enron. He told the court he had never seen anything like it.
Much of what followed, the prosecution, the trial, the testimony of the friends who had lived with him, came down to a question about screens. What did Sam Bankman-Fried look at, and what did he decline to look at? Near the end, the government's case and his own defense depended on the same fact: an $8 billion liability that FTX's systems tracked but that, in one executive's telling, "was not displayed on the admin user's dashboard." Everyone agreed the hole existed. They disagreed about whether the man at the center of it had been watching.
By the Numbers
The Arc of FTX
$32BFTX valuation at its January 2022 Series C
$1.02BFTX revenue in 2021, a milestone an executive testified was reached partly through backdated transactions
$16BBankman-Fried's estimated net worth before the collapse
$6BCustomer withdrawals in roughly 72 hours, November 2022
~$8BThe hole in FTX's accounts exposed by the run
5 hoursJury deliberation before guilty verdicts on all seven counts
25 yearsFederal prison sentence, imposed March 28, 2024
A Household of Rules
Begin with the family, because the family is where this story keeps returning.
His parents, Joseph Bankman and Barbara Fried, were both professors at Stanford Law School. They were people who taught rules for a living. Fried's father, George Fried, had been an administrator in the probation department of the New York State Supreme Court, a career spent close to the moment when the law decides what a person owes after a conviction. Her mother, Adrienne Fried Block, was a noted musicologist. Her sister, Linda P. Fried, became dean of Columbia's Mailman School of Public Health. It was a family of institutions: law, scholarship, public health, each one a way of turning moral seriousness into a career that could be measured and credentialed.
Sam was born into it in Stanford, California, and the tracks were laid early. There was Canada/USA Mathcamp, a summer program for mathematically gifted teenagers. There was Crystal Springs Uplands, an elite private school in Hillsborough. Then MIT, where he took a degree in physics with a minor in mathematics in 2014 and lived in a coeducational group house called Epsilon Theta. The group house matters later. It is the earliest version of a living arrangement he would spend the rest of his short career trying to recreate.
His younger brother Gabriel, born in 1995, worked as a legislative assistant and a Wall Street trader before becoming director of a nonprofit called Guarding Against Pandemics. That brother's childhood friend, Nishad Singh, would become FTX's head of engineering, then a cooperating witness, then a man who told a federal jury he had felt "suicidal." The circles were small and they were concentric. Nearly everyone who mattered had come from the same place, a math camp, a dorm, a family friendship, and nearly all of them would end up in the same courtroom.
In the summer of 2013 Bankman-Fried interned at Jane Street Capital, a proprietary trading firm, trading international exchange-traded funds. He went back full-time after graduation. He gave away about half his salary there, as a member of Giving What We Can. And he had the hair. Years later, under oath, his former girlfriend Caroline Ellison testified that he believed he had been paid higher bonuses at Jane Street because of his hair, and that the unkempt curls, the shorts, and the T-shirts were a "well calculated" image, "an important part" of FTX's "narrative and image." When he came to court in October 2023 his hair was trimmed and he wore a grey suit.
Nothing about the parents' later conduct reads as a stock character. When FTX's new owners sued them to recover assets their son had given them, cash and a home valued at more than $32 million, they admitted the gifts and denied wrongdoing, and the case was eventually dropped. In December 2022, around the time of his arrest, they wrote him a letter: "You are innocent." His mother emailed The New Yorker to call the prosecution and the bankruptcy team "McCarthyite," a "relentless pursuit of total destruction" enabled by "a credulous public." After he was jailed during the trial, his parents took turns flying from California every Tuesday to sit with him in a Brooklyn detention center. In February 2024 his mother wrote to the judge asking for leniency, arguing that her son would be in extreme danger in prison because he has "trouble responding appropriately to many social cues."
A lawyer pleading for mercy for a son who did not read rooms well. Her own father had spent his working life in the office that decides what happens to people after sentencing. It is hard to look away from that symmetry.
Bitcoin Was Cheaper in America
In September 2017 he left Jane Street and moved to Berkeley. For about two months, October and November, he was director of development at the Centre for Effective Altruism. The job lasted roughly as long as a summer internship. Then he started a trading firm.
Alameda Research was founded in November 2017 with Tara Mac Aulay, who came from the same effective-altruism world, and seeded with money from Jaan Tallinn, the billionaire programmer, and the investor Luke Ding. The staff was young. Bankman-Fried recruited about twenty effective altruists, most of whom had never traded in financial markets and many of whom did not really know what cryptocurrency was. They were not there to get rich, or not only. They were there to earn money so it could be given away, a philosophy called "earning to give" that treated a large fortune as the most efficient tool for doing good.
The name was chosen with care. "If you named your company like We Do Cryptocurrency Bitcoin Arbitrage Multinational Stuff," he said in a 2021 interview, "no one's going to give you a bank account." So it was Research. The word was camouflage, and he said so openly, in the cheerful way he often admitted things that should have worried people. The admission was the charm. It was also a preview of a habit: designing the outward surface of a thing for whoever stood at the gate.
The first great trade was simple. In January 2018 bitcoin cost more in Japan than in the United States, and the gap was large and stubborn because moving dollars into Japanese exchanges and getting yen back out was hard. Most traders saw the spread and gave up on the plumbing. Alameda worked the plumbing, moving as much as $25 million a day. Before the gap closed in early 2018, the firm made somewhere between $10 million and $30 million. It was the purest version of what he was good at: noticing a price that shouldn't exist and being willing to do the dull, slightly absurd logistics of capturing it.
The firm also nearly came apart. At his trial he described the early schism briefly and without much feeling: "There were sharp divides between two groups of the company, and ultimately one of them resigned and took most of the capital with it." Accounts of who left, and why, go well beyond what is recorded here. Michael Lewis, who met Bankman-Fried more than a hundred times while writing
Going Infinite, concluded that his subject "genuinely thinks he's innocent." Whatever the full story of that first rupture, the pattern it set is plain: colleagues who worried were the ones who left, and the ones who stayed tended not to worry out loud.
After a crypto conference in Macau in late 2018 he moved to Hong Kong, and Alameda moved its headquarters there in early 2019. The man from the law-faculty household was now in a city of fast money and loose rules, trading an asset class with almost no regulation, from a firm whose name was a polite fiction.
If you named your company like We Do Cryptocurrency Bitcoin Arbitrage Multinational Stuff, no one's going to give you a bank account.
— Sam Bankman-Fried, explaining Alameda Research's name, 2021 interview
An Exchange to Feed the Fund
FTX was not the original idea. It was a way to pay for the original idea.
In 2019, the bankruptcy record says, Bankman-Fried decided to start a cryptocurrency exchange to bring in revenue to fund Alameda's activities. He and Zixiao "Gary" Wang founded FTX in April 2019, and it opened in May. The name meant Futures Exchange. Its token, FTT, was released on May 5, 2019. Wang was a Mathcamp friend and an MIT friend, the quietest person in a quiet group. He wrote code and did not speak much. Years later he told a jury that "with some simple tweaks to computer code" he had helped Alameda take customer money, and that he had "lied about this to the public."
The tweaks were made early, in 2019. Wang testified that on Bankman-Fried's instruction he changed FTX's code so Alameda could withdraw essentially unlimited funds without being automatically liquidated. Bankman-Fried never wrote or reviewed FTX's code himself. On the stand he said he had only asked for something to stop erroneous liquidations after a glitch nearly wiped out Alameda's positions, maybe "an alert or a delay." Wang, for his part, conceded that some version of the change was needed for Alameda to supply liquidity to the exchange. Both things can be true. A feature built for a reasonable purpose can carry an unlimited line of credit inside it, and an unlimited line of credit has no reasonable purpose that stays reasonable for long.
Ellison testified that Alameda's credit line on FTX reached $65 billion. No other customer had more than $1 billion. Alameda did not have to post collateral. She also testified that Alameda received 60 to 70 percent of the initial FTT distribution for free.
In the beginning Alameda was FTX's first and only liquidity provider, the counterparty on the other side of every trade, sometimes taking losses so the new exchange would feel deep and busy. This is a standard way to start a marketplace: you subsidize the early transactions yourself so that real users show up. As FTX grew, other market makers arrived, and Alameda's share of trading eventually fell to about 2 percent. The privileges did not shrink with it. John Ray would later call it a "secret exemption" from FTX's auto-liquidation system. In September 2022 Bloomberg noted that the oversight governing traditional equities markets would have prohibited this relationship outright. In crypto nobody prohibited it. Between early 2021 and March 2022, according to public data reviewed by The Wall Street Journal, Alameda accumulated about $60 million of crypto tokens ahead of FTX announcing it would list them.
Changpeng Zhao of Binance, then the largest exchange in the world, bought 20 percent of FTX for about $100 million six months after it launched. In July 2021 Bankman-Fried bought him out for about $2 billion, paid in part in FTT. That transaction is easy to read past. It put a large block of FTX's own token in the hands of a rival, and the rival would decide, sixteen months later, when to sell it.
In August 2020 FTX acquired Blockfolio, a portfolio-tracking app, for $150 million, giving it a retail front end. In July 2021 it raised $900 million at an $18 billion valuation from more than sixty investors, including SoftBank and Sequoia. In January 2022 it raised $400 million more at $32 billion and announced a $2 billion venture fund, FTX Ventures. Revenue for 2021 was $1.02 billion, operating income $272 million, net income $388 million, for a company of about 300 people.
The billion-dollar revenue figure carries a footnote that came out at trial. Nishad Singh testified that in December 2021 he backdated some transactions to push FTX's revenue over the $1 billion milestone. It was not a large fraud. It was a small one, done for the sake of a number that was nearly true and looked better as a round one.
Buying the Visible World
Then came the spending, and the striking thing about it was how much of it was meant to be seen.
On June 2, 2021, Miami-Dade County approved a $135 million deal renaming the Miami Heat's arena FTX Arena. The FTX logo went on the uniforms of Major League Baseball umpires, onto Mercedes-AMG Petronas Formula One cars, and into a ten-year, $210 million naming-rights deal that turned the esports team TSM into TSM FTX. There was a title sponsorship of MLB's Home Run Derby X and two chess tournaments, the FTX Road to Miami and the FTX Crypto Cup. Tom Brady, Gisele Bündchen, Stephen Curry, Shaquille O'Neal, and Kevin O'Leary invested or were paid to promote. Bündchen was named the platform's ESG advisor. There was a Super Bowl ad, at an estimated $30 million. From the fall of 2021 into the following spring FTX negotiated with Taylor Swift over a $100 million sponsorship that never closed. Singh told the jury Bankman-Fried had spent about $1.13 billion on celebrities and sponsorships. Bankman-Fried's defense was arithmetic: marketing was 10 to 20 percent of revenue, while competitors seemed to spend close to 100 percent, and Coinbase ran Super Bowl ads too.
FTX's app was advertised as a "safe, easy way to get into crypto." The trick of brand marketing at that scale is that it substitutes recognition for inspection. Nobody audits an umpire's sleeve.
In September 2021 Bankman-Fried and FTX's whole senior staff moved from Hong Kong to the Bahamas. He said the reason was regulatory. Only a few countries had a full licensing framework for crypto, and the Bahamas was one of them. He talked openly about paying off the country's roughly $9 billion national debt. He lived with about ten roommates in a five-bedroom penthouse bought by Ryan Salame, the executive who ran FTX's Bahamian arm. Singh testified it cost $30 million. After the collapse it was listed for close to $40 million. Bankman-Fried said he wanted to recreate the living experience they'd had in college, and that the apartment doubled as an office. Singh, on cross-examination, admitted he had taken the master bedroom.
So the group house from Epsilon Theta came back, this time with an ocean view and a balance sheet behind it. The roommates were also the executives, and some of them were also romantic partners. A Wall Street Journal headline later put it plainly: they lived together, worked together, and lost billions together.
The ambitions kept getting larger. In April 2021 a Wall Street Journal profile called him a "Vegan Billionaire" who had disrupted crypto markets and wondered whether stocks were next. On May 12, 2022, a company called Emergent Fidelity Technologies, majority-owned by Bankman-Fried, disclosed a 7.6 percent stake in Robinhood. In a later affidavit he said he and Wang had borrowed more than $546 million from Alameda to pay for it. On April 25, 2022, the banker Michael Grimes texted Elon Musk that Bankman-Fried might commit up to $5 billion to Musk's purchase of Twitter. No investment happened. He put $500 million into the AI company Anthropic and more than $500 million into venture funds. In 2023 allegations surfaced that people around him had looked into "purchasing" the island nation of Nauru as a bunker in case of catastrophe.
He made Forbes' 30 Under 30 in 2021 and ranked forty-first on the Forbes 400. On December 8, 2021, he testified before the House Financial Services Committee on how crypto should be regulated, a serious young man in a suit among the senior people in the room. A year later to the week he was scheduled to testify before the same committee about why his exchange had failed. He was arrested in Nassau the night before.
Earning to Give
The philosophy deserves a fair hearing, because he seemed to mean it, which makes it more troubling than if he hadn't.
Effective altruism asks a reasonable question, how to do the most good with limited resources, and follows its answers wherever they go. For a person with unusual talent for making money, the answers can point toward making as much as possible and giving it away. Bankman-Fried called this an "altruistic career." He said he gave "not based on personal interest but on the projects that are proven by data to be the most effective at helping people," and he named existential risks: nuclear war, pandemics, artificial intelligence, threats to American democracy. He signed the Giving Pledge in June 2022. He founded the FTX Future Fund, whose team included the Scottish philosopher William MacAskill, one of the movement's founders. By September 1, 2022, the Future Fund said it had committed about $160 million to 110 nonprofits. FTX gave $18 million to the TOGETHER Trial, an international consortium testing existing drugs as treatments for COVID-19 and other diseases. Before the collapse, Bankman-Fried and other FTX and Alameda leaders, worth a combined $16.5 billion or so, were the second-largest group of funders in the movement.
Politics followed the same logic and was spent more freely. His only campaign contribution before 2019 had been $1,000 to Senator Michael Bennet in 2010. In the 2020 cycle he gave $5.2 million to two super PACs supporting Joe Biden, making him Biden's second-largest individual donor after Michael Bloomberg. In 2022 he gave $39.8 million to Democratic causes, second only to George Soros, including $27 million to a PAC called Protect Our Future. He gave $262,200 on the record to Republicans, including Susan Collins, Mitt Romney, Lisa Murkowski, and Ben Sasse, and said he had given much more through untraceable channels. "All my Republican donations were dark," he explained, because the press was "super liberal." In May 2022 he said he might spend "north of $100 million" in the 2024 presidential race, with a "soft ceiling" of $1 billion. In October he called that a "dumb quote on my part." Michael Lewis later reported that Bankman-Fried had looked into whether it would be legal to pay Donald Trump not to run, and that Trump's team had floated a figure of $5 billion.
He said his donations were not meant to advance FTX's policy goals. FTX was meanwhile circulating policy suggestions to lawmakers. He pushed for the Digital Commodities Consumer Protection Act, which critics saw as good for FTX and bad for its decentralized competitors, and said he would prefer that crypto be overseen by the Commodity Futures Trading Commission, a regulator with a reputation for a lighter touch than the SEC.
Guarding Against Pandemics, his brother's organization, received $35 million from Bankman-Fried between October 2021 and May 2022. When FTX's new management sued to get money back, its complaint said of the group and its PAC: "needless to say, did nothing to prevent pandemics." According to estimates from prosecutors and bankruptcy filings, at least $10 million of what Sam gave the group came from a mix of customer and non-customer accounts at Alameda.
Then came the conversation that seemed to undo everything. In November 2022, days after the bankruptcy, he exchanged Twitter direct messages with the Vox writer Kelsey Piper, whom he described as a friend. He said his public support for crypto regulation had been "just PR," that regulators "make everything worse" and "don't protect customers at all." Asked about his "ethics stuff," he agreed it was "mostly a front."
A dumb game we woke Westerners play where we say all the right shibboleths and so everyone likes us.
— Sam Bankman-Fried, in Twitter direct messages with Vox's Kelsey Piper, November 2022
He later said he had meant ESG, corporate social responsibility, and greenwashing, not malaria nets or pandemic prevention. Maybe so. The difficulty is that he is the only one who could know, and by then the screen everyone was watching had stopped telling them anything reliable.
What seems clearest is that the philosophy did not make him cruel. It made him comfortable with large numbers. A person who reasons in expected value across the whole future of humanity can get used to staking billions, and to treating other people's caution as a failure of nerve.
Bulletproof
The first half of 2022 is when the numbers turned, though at the time it would not have looked that way.
In May, crypto prices fell sharply and kept falling. Projects collapsed one after another, and Bankman-Fried positioned himself as the industry's lender of last resort, bailing out some of the failing firms. In July FTX signed a deal giving it the option to buy the crypto lender BlockFi for about $240 million, along with a $400 million credit facility. In September FTX.US won the auction for the assets of the bankrupt broker Voyager Digital, a deal worth about $1.42 billion. Newspapers compared him to J.P. Morgan in 1907.
Inside Alameda, the picture was different. Many of its assets moved with the crypto market. Many of its debts were in dollars. "Alameda's NAV fell from about $40 billion to around $10 billion ultimately in June 2022," he testified. That month Ellison told him that "Alameda may have just gone bankrupt." He said he was "very surprised" and "fairly concerned," and canceled a trip to Washington planned for that afternoon. A few hours later Wang, Singh, and an engineer named Adam Yedidia found a bug that had overstated Alameda's liabilities by $8 billion. Ellison revised Alameda's net asset value to between $8 billion and $10 billion.
Yedidia, testifying under an immunity order, said that while fixing the bug he noticed something else: after the correction, Alameda still owed FTX $8 billion. He brought it up with Bankman-Fried. On cross-examination he conceded that the written postmortem he circulated had not stated the size of the liability. But it worried him, and one day after a game of paddle tennis he asked his boss a simple question.
We were bulletproof last year, but we're not bulletproof anymore.
— Sam Bankman-Fried, as recounted by FTX engineer Adam Yedidia in trial testimony, October 2023
Bankman-Fried's version was that he had said Alameda's risk was "decent but not bulletproof any more," meaning there would be "serious risk down the road if action wasn't taken." The two versions are nearly identical. What separates them is what each man thought the sentence obligated him to do.
When third-party lenders began recalling loans, Ellison sent them balance sheets, seven drafts in all, which she later called "dishonest." He said he remembered looking at one and that it "seemed reasonable." The previous year, according to Ellison, the two of them had modeled a "10th percentile" scenario, an outcome bad enough that they gave it only a 10 percent chance. She calculated that if Alameda made another $3 billion in venture investments while converting its loans from Genesis Digital Assets to fixed terms, the chance of being unable to repay was 3 percent. He told her to try converting the loans and to go ahead with the investments. She converted only some of them. Ellison testified that he had said, about insider borrowing, "Sam directed us to borrow as much money as we could at whatever terms we could," and that insiders had taken roughly $5 billion in personal loans from Alameda.
Hedging became the recurring theme of the defense. He had told her to hedge, and she hadn't. Ellison admitted under oath that she should have. He testified that when he raised it again in August and September 2022, "she started crying. She agreed that Alameda should have hedged." His own words, from a September 2022 memo about possibly shutting Alameda down, were read to the jury: "The fact that we didn't hedge as much as we should have alone cost more in EV than all the money Alameda had ever made or ever will make, and that's the kind of critical mistake we're likely to make if I'm not actually running the show there." EV meant expected value. The memo reads like a man writing up someone else's trading losses. Ray, a few months later, would describe the arrangement as "the concentration of control in the hands of a very small group."
Their romantic relationship, which had lasted about six months, ended on April 15, 2022. Since October 2021 Ellison had shared Alameda's top job with Sam Trabucco, a Mathcamp acquaintance from Mount Holyoke in 2010 who had also studied math and computer science at MIT, where he led the undergraduate math association. Trabucco wrote crossword puzzles for The New York Times. Alameda bought him a 52-foot yacht, which he named Soak My Deck. In August 2022 he stepped down, leaving Ellison as sole CEO. He was never charged and never testified. In 2024 he settled with FTX's estate, giving up assets worth about $80 million, including two San Francisco apartments and the yacht. Filings showed he had received about $20 million in cash while at Alameda.
Others left too. In August the FDIC issued a cease-and-desist order after FTX.US president Brett Harrison tweeted something implying customer deposits were federally insured. On September 27 Harrison announced he was stepping back into an advisory role. Richard Handler, CEO of Jefferies, tried to meet Bankman-Fried in July and again in September, believing he was "in over his head." Handler's staff emailed. Bankman-Fried did not reply.
In September Wang told Singh that Alameda was borrowing $13 billion from FTX. Singh asked for a meeting and said he was "really freaked out." Bankman-Fried told him Alameda's NAV was "super positive," that they were "a little short on deliverables," and that $5 billion could be raised quickly by selling assets and bringing in investors, with "substantially more" over the following weeks or months. After a fundraising trip to the Middle East he told Singh the same thing, adding that Alameda's main way of repaying its loans would be for FTX to stay successful. The fund was going to be repaid by the exchange it had borrowed from.
Ray's records showed that on September 30, 2022, Alameda had lent $1 billion to Bankman-Fried personally and more than $500 million to Singh. Singh admitted borrowing $3.7 million from FTX to buy a house after he knew what was happening to customer funds. He told the jury the spending had been "evil."
Seventy-Two Hours
It began with a balance sheet that someone outside the company could read.
On November 2, 2022, Ian Allison of CoinDesk published a leaked copy of Alameda's books. About 40 percent of Alameda's $14.6 billion in assets was FTT, the token FTX had created: $3.66 billion "unlocked," $2.16 billion pledged as "collateral," $292 million "locked." There were only about $5.1 billion worth of FTT in circulation. The trading firm was holding most of its wealth in a token issued by its sister company, whose price depended on that sister company's reputation, which depended in turn on the trading firm being solvent. Matt Levine of Bloomberg later described two of FTX's "less liquid" assets, FTT and another token called Serum, as tokens "it had just made up."
On November 6 Changpeng Zhao tweeted that Binance would sell all its FTT, citing "recent revelations that came to light." This was the FTT from the 2021 buyout, 23 million tokens worth about $529 million. The two men had been feuding publicly for months, partly over regulation, and Zhao had criticized Bankman-Fried's lobbying shortly before. Ellison publicly offered to buy Binance's FTT at $22, which led traders to suspect Alameda had loans that would be liquidated below that price. Customers began pulling money out. About $6 billion left FTX in roughly 72 hours.
On November 7, as withdrawals surged, Bankman-Fried tweeted: "FTX is fine. Assets are fine." He deleted it the next day. Wang testified the statement was false. He had earlier told prosecutors it was technically true but misleading, because Bankman-Fried had chosen to talk about solvency rather than liquidity. FTX might eventually have had enough assets to cover what it owed. It did not have the money on hand to pay customers who wanted it that day. The tweet answered a question nobody had asked in place of the one everyone was asking.
On November 8 Zhao announced that Binance had signed a nonbinding letter of intent to buy FTX, citing a "liquidity crisis," and suggested that every exchange stop using tokens as collateral. FTT fell 80 percent that day. On November 9 Binance withdrew, citing reports of mishandled customer funds and pending investigations. Binance's chief strategy officer later said they could not determine FTX's assets and liabilities. Bankman-Fried told staff on Slack that FTX had learned of Binance's decision from the press. FTX stopped processing withdrawals. The Bloomberg Billionaires Index stopped counting him as a billionaire. One headline said he had lost $14.6 billion overnight. Alameda's website went offline.
The next day was November 10. Most of FTX's legal and compliance staff resigned. The Future Fund team resigned together. The Securities Commission of the Bahamas froze assets of FTX Digital Markets. Japan suspended parts of FTX Japan. The Australian arm went into administration. FTX approached Kraken about a rescue. FTX.US employees started trying to sell assets, including the stock-clearing company Embed Financial Technologies and the naming rights to the arena. Bankman-Fried took responsibility in public and kept trying to raise money in private. Ryne Miller, FTX US's general counsel and a former Sullivan & Cromwell partner, told colleagues the chance of new investment was "0%." Miller and others asked Bankman-Fried to give them control of FTX US. He refused.
On November 11 he signed. FTX, FTX.US, Alameda, and more than 100 affiliates filed for bankruptcy in Delaware, and he resigned as CEO. That night more than $473 million was taken from FTX in what Miller called "unauthorized transactions," mostly stablecoins converted quickly into Ether. In January 2024 the Justice Department indicted three people for a SIM-swap scheme that allegedly stole more than $400 million in virtual currency from an unnamed company that sources told Bloomberg was FTX. Even the theft came from the outside, through a phone number.
He kept looking for money over the weekend of November 12 and 13. Bahamian police questioned him. Other executives flew to Hong Kong. On November 14 he started posting single letters on Twitter, one per tweet. By November 15 they spelled out "What HAPPENED."
Some customers were asking the same thing. They were asking it of him.
On November 17 Ray filed his first-day declaration. He was a specialist in collapses who had worked on Enron, Residential Capital, Nortel, and Overseas Shipholding, and he wrote the sentence that summed up the case before any court did.
Never in my career have I seen such a complete failure of corporate controls and such a complete absence of trustworthy financial information as occurred here. From compromised systems integrity and faulty regulatory oversight abroad, to the concentration of control in the hands of a very small group of inexperienced, unsophisticated and potentially compromised individuals, this situation is unprecedented.
— John J. Ray III, sworn declaration in the FTX bankruptcy, November 17, 2022
He later told Congress that "literally, there's no record-keeping whatsoever," and that a company moving billions of dollars had used QuickBooks for its accounting. The Financial Times published the balance sheet FTX had shown prospective rescuers: $9 billion in liabilities against $900 million in liquid assets, $5 billion in "less liquid" assets, and $3.2 billion in illiquid private investments. The empire had been large, and very little of it was money a customer could actually withdraw.
Nathan Whittemore, an FTX marketing specialist whose podcast FTX had sponsored, said what many of the people closest to the collapse felt. From the moment the fraud was exposed, he said, "every single ounce of their effort went into self-preservation. They continued to ask their team to lie for them publicly, even knowing it could expose those people to legal ramifications. It was callous, cruel and utterly devoid of any genuine human consideration."
Solvency Is Not a Defense
On December 12, 2022, shortly after six in the evening, the Royal Bahamas Police Force arrested him at his apartment complex in New Providence. It was the night before he was due to testify to the House Financial Services Committee. Forbes got the prepared testimony and published it. In it he argued that FTX "is solvent" and that Ryne Miller had "pressured" him into bankruptcy. He suggested the restructuring professionals were using Enron as a template to collect large fees. Ray testified in his place.
He spent ten days in Nassau's Fox Hill Prison, then agreed to extradition. He was released on a $250 million bond, the largest ever set in an American criminal case, on condition that he live at his parents' house in Palo Alto. On January 3, 2023, he pleaded not guilty. Two weeks earlier, Ellison and Wang had pleaded guilty and agreed to cooperate. Singh pleaded guilty in February. Salame pleaded guilty to a campaign-finance violation and to running an unlicensed money-transmitting business.
Judge Lewis A. Kaplan restricted his contact with witnesses in February. More charges came: one indictment cited more than 300 illegal political donations, another accused him and others of directing at least $40 million in cryptocurrency to Chinese officials to unfreeze Alameda accounts. Some charges were later dropped because of the extradition treaty with the Bahamas. A planned second trial was abandoned. In July 2023 he gave a reporter Ellison's private writings. On August 11 Kaplan concluded that witness tampering had likely occurred, revoked bail, and sent him from the courtroom in handcuffs to the Metropolitan Detention Center in Brooklyn.
The trial ran from October 3 to November 2, 2023, at the Daniel Patrick Moynihan Courthouse in Manhattan. The prosecution, led by Nicolas Roos and Danielle Sassoon, cited FTX's terms of service: "Title to your Digital Assets shall at all times remain with you and shall not transfer to FTX Trading." The defense, led by Mark Cohen, described a "math nerd who didn't drink or party," who worked twelve to twenty-two hours a day and was overwhelmed by a market crash, a hostile competitor, and an inexperienced team.
The friends testified one after another. Ellison said he had "directed" her to "commit crimes." "For any major decision I would always run them by Sam," she said, "and defer to Sam." She cried on the stand, remembering that when FTX collapsed she had felt relieved because she "didn't have to lie anymore." On cross-examination she acknowledged telling prosecutors that he "might not know" about some customer funds in Alameda's bank accounts and that there were "periods of time when he wasn't paying attention to Alameda." She also said Alameda had tried to hire several people to oversee its accounting, and all of them had left.
Singh described the November messages. Feeling "suicidal," he had proposed backdating a trade to write down his own debt, and Bankman-Fried had replied, "I think that's probably fine." Singh had written, "this is wildly selfish of me, but [FTX lawyers] may need to know that it wasn't a ton of people orchestrating it." Bankman-Fried answered, "yup." On the stand Bankman-Fried said he had been trying to comfort a frightened friend and that nothing was backdated.
He testified on October 27 against his lawyers' earlier hints that he might not. His defense depended on two accounts, and he explained both at length. The first was the line of credit. "FTX didn't have restrictions on what people could do with funds they would borrow," he said. "So long as we believed that the risk was being managed, which is to say, so long as we believed its assets were greater than its liabilities, we didn't care if the user, you know, withdrew funds and used them to buy muffins, to pay business expenses, to invest or anything else." He said he believed Alameda's borrowing that way was about $2 billion. The second was fiat@, an account recording customer dollars that had gone into Alameda's bank accounts before FTX had its own banking. He said he had assumed those funds were either sitting untouched or had been passed to FTX, and that any spending would have appeared on the other account, info@. He said he did not get access to the relevant database until October or November 2022, and only then understood the full $8 billion. When he asked about fiat@ earlier, he said, staff told him "that they were busy and that I should stop asking questions because it was distracting."
The man who had run a fundraising call while playing a video game asked the jury to believe he had not looked at the second screen.
The closings came down to a simple contrast. "He took the money," Roos said. "He knew it was wrong. He did it anyway, because he thought he could walk his way out of it and talk his way out of it." Cohen: "Every movie needs a villain." Then: "In the real world, unlike the movie world, things can get messy. Poor risk management is not a crime." He pointed out that no witness had said Bankman-Fried told them, in so many words, to steal. The jury started deliberating at about 3:15 p.m. on November 2 and returned guilty verdicts on all seven counts after roughly five hours. Attorney General Merrick Garland warned anyone tempted "to hide their crimes behind a shiny new thing they claim no one else is smart enough to understand."
The bankruptcy then produced a result that complicated the moral accounting. Solana, which Bankman-Fried said he had bought at around 20 cents and which traded near $32 during the trial, recovered. So did other holdings. Anthropic's value rose, and the judge had barred the defense from mentioning it. By April 2023, $7.3 billion of the roughly $8 billion missing had been recovered in liquid assets. In May 2024 FTX told the court most customers would get all their money back, with a surplus left over. Ray estimated recoveries of 118 to 142 percent of claims as of the petition date. Customers with balances under $50,000 would be paid in full, but valued at crypto prices on the date of the collapse, which meant missing the rally that followed. Matt Levine had already given the legal answer to the obvious question: "'We lucked into enough money to pay everyone back' is not a legal defense to fraud."
On March 28, 2024, Kaplan sentenced him to 25 years and ordered him to forfeit $11.02 billion. Salame got seven and a half years. Ellison got two, and Kaplan said cooperation should not be a "get out of jail free card." Singh, on October 30, 2024, and Wang, on November 20, were sentenced to time served. Kaplan said Wang was "entitled to a lot of credit."
The Mackerel Economy
Prison stripped away the advantages he had brought with him.
His lawyers told the court in August 2023 that he wasn't getting a vegan diet, that his ADHD and depression medications were running low, and that he couldn't prepare for trial on bread, water, and peanut butter. By November he had vegetarian meals and his prescriptions. He was assigned federal register number 37244-510. In September 2024 he was reported to be sharing a dormitory-style cell at MDC Brooklyn with Sean Combs. He hired a prison consultant, Sam Mangel. He appealed, then asked for a new trial, arguing that Kaplan had mocked his lawyers in front of the jury and rushed deliberations by offering jurors meals and rides home.
In March 2025 he gave an unauthorized prison interview to Tucker Carlson, made what The New York Times called an "indirect pitch to Mr. Trump" for a pardon, stressed his Republican donations, and blamed his conviction on "Biden's lawfare machine." His parents had hired lawyers with Trump connections to "explore executive clemency." He was put in solitary confinement and then moved to Terminal Island, a low-security federal prison in Los Angeles. A congressional reaction reported by Politico in 2026 was short and unprintable. On June 12, 2026, the Second Circuit upheld his conviction, sentence, and the $11 billion forfeiture. In September he petitioned the Supreme Court, arguing that the trial judge had wrongly limited evidence about whether FTX and Alameda had enough assets to repay customers. It was the solvency argument again, now addressed to the highest court in the country.
Netflix announced a series called The Altruists, with Anthony Boyle as Bankman-Fried and Julia Garner as Ellison. Forbes put them both in a "Hall of Shame" of 30 Under 30 honorees it wished it could take back.
During the months in Brooklyn, The Wall Street Journal reported something small. Like other inmates, he had joined the "mack" economy, the prison barter system in which packets of mackerel bought at the commissary serve as currency. He used them to pay other prisoners for services.
One of those services was a haircut.