All parents want their children to get into the best possible college. But paying bribes to have them admitted to elite schools as athletes, or having someone provide the answers for their standardized tests, clearly crosses the boundary into unacceptable conduct.
On Tuesday, federal prosecutors in Boston charged 33 parents and 13 coaches with engaging in a long-running scheme to get children into colleges by gaming the admissions process. Among those caught up in the case are the actresses Lori Loughlin and Felicity Huffman; William E. McGlashan Jr., a partner at the private equity firm TPG; Gordon Caplan, the co-chairman of the law firm Willkie Farr & Gallagher; and Doug Hodge, the retired chief executive of Pimco.
But how is paying bribes or submitting falsified test scores to get a child into a private college like Georgetown or the University of Southern California a federal crime?
Mail and wire fraud statutes identify a scheme to defraud as including the “right of honest services.” That turns the dishonesty of getting your child admitted to their college of choice into a crime that is punishable by up to 20 years in prison.
The honest-services law had been a means to police corporate or official dishonesty without requiring proof of a benefit to the defendant. But in 2010, the Supreme Court, in the appeal of former Enron chief executive Jeffrey Skilling, limited honest-services fraud to cases involving bribes and kickbacks.
Now if a university coach or employee takes payment in exchange for improperly admitting a student who is not otherwise qualified, it can be a federal crime because it violates the honest services owed to the school. For the parents charged in the case, paying the bribe means that they are just as guilty for acting as an accomplice in the fraudulent scheme.
How do people go off the rails so easily by engaging in clearly dishonest conduct? The criminal complaint is replete with exchanges that show the parents had little regard for the possible criminality of what they were doing.
Mr. Caplan was quoted as telling a cooperating witness in the case: “I’m not worried about the moral issue here. I’m worried about the— if she’s caught doing that, you know, she’s finished.”
Another parent charged in the case, Jane Buckingham, is quoted as telling a confidential informant: “I know this is craziness; I know it is. And then I need you to get him into U.S.C., and then I need you to cure cancer and [make peace] in the Middle East.” Ms. Buckingham paid $50,000 to have someone else take the ACT exam for her son, according to the complaint.
Mr. Caplan, a lawyer, especially should have recognized that the conduct had crossed the line into criminality. But for Mr. Caplan, Ms. Buckingham and the other parents, getting their child into the best school seemed to override any concerns about ethics.
So why would otherwise law-abiding individuals flout the law?
The answer may lie in the fact that most white-collar crimes do not have an obvious victim. As a result, individuals can convince themselves that they have not really done anything wrong.
Gaming the system to get your child into a top-tier college is much the same. There is no easily identifiable victim, and applicants denied admission may well chalk up their rejection to the luck of the draw or the unknown factors that lead one college to turn away a prospective student and another to accept that person.
Of course, the action of the parents charged did cause actual harm, even if the victim is unaware of it. University admissions are largely a zero-sum game, so taking one slot means a worthy student was sent away. Not knowing who that person is does not lessen the harm.
Wealth can buy a lot of access. Paying bribes to sneak your child into a favored college, though, might result in short prison terms for some of the parents.
Facebook has a 6,000-person security army quietly protecting its tens of thousands of employees worldwide.
The challenges they face are immense — from stalkers to stolen prototypes, car-bomb fears, gang violence, and concerns about state-sponsored espionage.
Business Insider spoke with current and former Facebook employees about the wild hidden world of Silicon Valley corporate security.
Thousands of people turn up at Facebook’s offices every week to complain about their accounts, attempt to sneak in, ask for tours, or try to meet CEO Mark Zuckerberg.
Defenses include plain-clothes officers with firearms to location tracking of blacklisted people, and there are rumors of a secret escape passageway.
When a disgruntled YouTube user opened fire with a semiautomatic pistol at the company’s California headquarters in April 2018, injuring three, the gunshots reverberated across Silicon Valley.
At Facebook, just a 30-minute drive away, the company sprang into action and quietly redoubled its defenses. The Menlo Park-based social-networking firm drastically upped the number of off-duty police officers who covertly patrol its halls in civilian clothes with concealed firearms. Few employees even know these officers exist, and the move spooked some of the workers who subsequently noticed them.
And it spent about $1 million to bolster its vehicle fleet with more than 30 new Toyota RAV4 hybrid SUVs for its security organization with which to patrol its Bay Area offices, only to leave them sitting in a garage for months, unused, as the company deliberated about how they should be branded. (It’s unclear whether they’re in action now.)
If it sounds like a small army, that’s because in many ways it is.
Silicon Valley’s founding principles of freedom and nonconformism created a province of open-plan offices and sprawling university-like campuses that have since been emulated throughout the corporate world.
But within Silicon Valley’s tech companies today, there’s a more hardheaded reality hiding just below this idyllic surface. At a time when tech brands and leaders have become objects of public fascination and, in some cases, outright hostility, and in the wake of the YouTube shooting, tech companies like Facebook have no choice but to erect ever-more sophisticated, and expensive, fortifications.
For shareholders it means shouldering ever heavier costs, often tens of millions of dollars, for the protection of top company executives and facilities security. Within Facebook, it means empowering a 6,000-person shadow workforce whose day-to-day experiences provide a revealing window into another side of Silicon Valley, far removed from app marketing plans and machine-learning conferences: a secret world of stalkers, stolen prototypes, car-bomb fears, earthquake-contingency plans, gang violence, and concerns about state-sponsored espionage.
Business Insider spoke with current and former workers in Facebook’s security organization and others familiar with the matter, obtained internal company documents, reviewed court documents, and surveyed publicly available information about how the company handles its security.
These sources described sophisticated logistical challenges in protecting tens of thousands of employees and contract workers every day — and an underlying tension between the techie ideals of openness and engineer freedom and the realities of protecting a high-profile and increasingly controversial multinational firm.
“As a security guy, you can buy Fort Knox tomorrow, but that’s not going to fly in a tech environment,” said a former member of Facebook’s security team. “You create policies and barriers and processes so you’re the friendliest you can be while as safe as you can be.” (Sources were granted anonymity as they weren’t authorized to speak publicly about their experiences.)
Some of what Facebook’s security team deals with are prosaic issues, the kind you’d find at any major company: petty thefts, car accidents, and medical emergencies. But Facebook’s unprecedented influence on civil society and billions of people’s daily lives around the world means it also faces one-of-a-kind security challenges. People swarm to Facebook’s offices by the thousands, whether that’s to try to look around, attempt to give unsolicited pitches to company executives, or air grievances.
And then there’s one of the most important challenges of all: protecting Mark Zuckerberg.
Protecting the principal
When CEO Mark Zuckerberg first got 24/7 executive protection, there was a problem: He kept wandering off.
Sources said that in the early 2010s, the world-famous Facebook cofounder didn’t always keep the team — initially just one person — in the loop on his plans. He might decide on a whim to leave the office, or go for a jog, or to a bar, leaving his security staff scrambling to keep up.
“He was in his mid-20s … he was developing a platform he truly believed was good … at the time he didn’t grasp the concept that there were haters out there,” one source said.
Since then, however, Zuckerberg has grown more accepting of executive protection’s constant presence, according to insiders. His closely monitored patterns of life now far more closely resemble a head of state than a typical 34-year-old engineer, with the stricter security practices mirroring the increase in Facebook’s own fortifications over the years.
Armed executive-protection officers stand on constant guard outside his gated homes in the Bay Area (at least one of which also has a panic room). If he goes to a bar, his team will sweep through ahead of time to make sure it’s safe. They will vet any new doctors or trainers if he wants to take up a new hobby. He is driven everywhere, with the security team monitoring traffic and adjusting his route accordingly. (Back when he still drove, Zuckerberg was, in the words of one source, a “shitty driver.”)
During company all-hands meetings, members of Zuckerberg’s Praetorian Guard sit at the front of the room and are dotted throughout the crowd, just in case an employee tries to rush him. They wear civilian clothes to blend in with nonsecurity employees.
Zuckerberg historically hasn’t worked in a cordoned-off office like a traditional corporate executive. Instead, his regular desk is on the floor of Facebook’s open-plan office, just like everyone else — but protection officers sit near his desk while he works, in case of security threats. Facebook’s offices are built above an employee parking lot, but it’s impossible to park directly beneath Zuckerberg’s desk, because of concerns about the risk of car bombs.
He also has access to a large glass-walled conference room in the middle of the space near his desk, which features bullet-resistant windows and a panic button. There’s also a persistent rumor among Facebook employees that he has a secret “panic chute” his team can evacuate him down to get him out of the office in a hurry. The truth of the matter remains murky: One source said they had been briefed about the existence of a secret exit route through the floor of the conference room into the parking garage, but others said they had no knowledge of it. Facebook declined to comment on the rumor.
And with good reason: The billionaire chief exec lives an extraordinarily public life, with 118 million followers on Facebook alone (making him both an icon of Facebook’s ideals and, increasingly, a magnet for public ire following his company’s recent scandals), and the threats he faces are severe.
He receives numerous death threats a week, and the security team actively monitors social media for mentions of him and his chief operating officer, Sheryl Sandberg. The pair also have stalkers, who alternately declare their undying love for the execs or harbor worrying vendettas against them.
Zuckerberg and Sandberg are the only two Facebook execs with 24/7 protection, though others may get it for specific occasions like traveling. The pair have amusing security code names, which Business Insider is not publishing for security reasons.
The CEO has been forced to get restraining orders against people obsessively following and trying to contact him in multiple instances. In one notable incident, in 2015, a local, William Gordon Kinzer, repeatedly turned up outside Zuckerberg’s house over a period of weeks and aggressively harassed the security officers, according to court documents. “On May 30, 2015, at approximately 9:39 a.m., I was seated in my car … Kinzer stopped at the passenger side of my window, looked directly at me and yelled loudly, ‘Stay in your car like a good little monkey and obey the law,'” one security officer testified. “Kinzer then turned and walked away. Kinzer appeared angry and aggressive. I was concerned for my safety.”
Sandberg was once stalked by an employee who sent her a barrage of messages. Even after the employee was fired and blacklisted, she would still show up at campus occasionally, a source said. (Facebook declined to comment on this and many of the other incidents detailed in this story.) Such stalkers are classified as “BOLOs,” short for “Be On the Look Out,” a category of person barred from all Facebook property. If BOLOs use Facebook or the other apps the company owns, the security team may quietly use data drawn from these apps to monitor their location without telling them, as CNBC previously reported.
In one surreal episode, someone turned up outside Zuckerberg’s house with a love letter scrawled across the side of their truck, a source recalled. Security officers initially assumed it was directed at the CEO — but it was actually for the benefit of one of the housekeeping staff.
People will also send unsolicited presents to his home — everything from cookies to a gift from a rabbi after the birth of one of his children. (These get sent to the security team for inspection; Zuckerberg doesn’t open them himself.)
In Facebook’s offices, things are less intense, but employees will still rush to get the seats at meetings closest to Zuckerberg. Executive-protection officers are instructed to be alert for employees and guests at the offices trying to take unauthorized photos of Zuckerberg, which is against the rules. Some employees, too, will try to give him gifts.
‘Move fast and break things’ isn’t always the best approach to security
Today, Facebook has 40,000 full-time employees, but its total workforce is far higher.
More than 80,000 personnel around the globe (including contractors and contingent workers who don’t necessarily get the same benefits as full-time employees) fall under the protection of the global security team’s protection, across 160-plus facilities ranging from engineering offices to data centers to content moderation centers, in more than 100 countries.
To handle this, the company has an army of security officers.
There are more than 6,000 people working in global security (500 of those are full-time employees, the rest contractors and contingent workers), with more than 1,000 security officers working at the Bay Area offices alone — patrolling on foot, in vehicles, with sniffer dogs, and on bikes (“Fox Units”). For context, Snapchat parent company Snap has only 3,000 employees total. Twitter has just under 4,000.
Among the third-party contractors it leans heavily on to provide security officers and intelligence analysts for its workforce are Allied Universal, G4S, and Pinkerton. Facebook also funds a Menlo Park Police Department substation near its offices, and works closely with local law enforcement and emergency services.
There are five key strands to Facebook’s security efforts. Most visibly, there are the global security services, Facebook’s legions of security officers (“blue shirts”) and its global security operations centers (more on those later). And there’s global security intelligence and investigations, which handles investigations and streams of intelligence.
Then there are the global security strategic initiatives, which look at risks as the business grows (Is this a high-risk area for expansion? Is building here really a good idea?); systems and technology (think keycards, security cameras, and the software that keeps it all humming along); and the executive-protection team.
Like the rest of Facebook, global security is a ravenous consumer of data, slurping up vast streams of intelligence, which range from open source information to third-party data streams, from media reports about breaking news events to dark-web marketplaces that might be selling the company’s intellectual property — and, of course, users’ posts on Facebook itself.
It’s an “intelligence-based organization,” trying to sift through a flood of noise to identify and mitigate issues ahead of time, and it identifies millions of “threats” to the workforce every year, from natural disasters to threats of violence against employees, of varying levels of credibility.
Atop it all sits Nick Lovrien, a former CIA counterintelligence officer who serves as Facebook’s chief global security officer. Lovrien, who worked to tackle foreign-fighter pipelines in the Middle East, credits the early-2010s upheaval in the region as opening his eyes to Facebook’s capabilities.
“I was in Iraq … we were doing missions, three, four a night, trying to cut [the foreign-fighter pipeline] off and during this time … it was the start of the Arab Uprising, and I saw the power of social media,” he told Business Insider in an interview.
(Lovrien in turn reports to John Tenanes, Facebook’s vice president of culinary, facilities, and security, who reports to chief financial officer David Wehner.)
Facebook “is the critical infrastructure for modern-day democracy, and that’s why we’re so focused on the integrity of the platform, the safety and security of that platform. What that does is bring unique risks to Facebook as well,” Lovrien said.
In short, protecting Facebook is a monumental task, and not always one that’s been made easier by the company’s internal philosophy.
Though it has moved away from it in recent years, Facebook was historically famous for its motto of “move fast and break things.” The company emphasized speed and initiative; if something didn’t quite work out, it could always be fixed later. But while this attitude might work effectively for developing apps, it doesn’t fly in the rigid world of physical security, sources said.
When Facebook built its new headquarters, some of its entrance points had to be locked up after the team realized they posed a security risk, allowing people to bypass the checkpoints at the main reception desks, a source said. Security projects could become derailed because an engineer didn’t like some aspect of it. Across the company, different teams took very different approaches to handling investigations, hiring people with varying levels of experience and qualifications (Facebook says it is “intentional about hiring people from non-conventional backgrounds” in addition to hiring traditional security professionals).
“I know Facebook’s culture is ‘we’re all friends and there’s no friction.’ The reality is sometimes security requires a certain amount of friction,” one source said.
Lovrien conceded this was the case but said Facebook has since evolved. “That’s an accurate statement in Facebook six years ago, when I first started,” he said. “Over the last six years we’ve really focused on taking those programs offline and introducing new security systems.”
Since then, Lovrien said, “I’ve been able to hire the strongest leaders that are out there, and the level of expertise that we have is just not found in any other corporation, so very proud of the teams that are here.”
“I’ll give you a rundown,” one former officer said. “Black guards being given the shit posts. Blacks guards being passed over for promotions. Incidents where white drivers were given leeway in an accident when blacks under similar situations were strictly penalized. Uneven discipline regarding hair color and visible tattoos.”
Facebook says it sets clear guidelines for contracting firms it works with and jointly investigates any such allegations. Allied Universal, which provides security officers for Facebook in the Bay Area, said it “is committed to diversity and fostering an inclusive work environment. Our goal is to represent the many and diverse communities that we take pride in serving because a diverse population of security officers creates safer environments and stronger communities. To this end, we have comprehensive standards of conduct and a zero-tolerance policy for discrimination, retaliation or harassment of any kind. At all organizational levels, we actively promote an inclusive culture to help expand opportunity for all in the communities that we help safeguard.”
Last August, Facebook’s security officers negotiated a union contract. But sources say some officers remain unhappy with the concessions it secured. And hiring new security officers can also be difficult because of ongoing low unemployment rate in the US — though that’s not unique to Facebook.
Facebook has its hands full keeping the masses out
Another key challenge for Facebook: managing guests, and keeping out people who aren’t supposed to be there.
The sheer scale of the number of people coming through Facebook’s doors is staggering. In June 2018, for example, the company had 140,000 invited guests globally, not including employees themselves — from job applicants to business-meeting attendees and friends of employees. (Nearly 54,000 of these visitors were at Menlo Park alone.) It had 1.5 million across the entire year.
But uninvited visitors also swarm to Facebook in astonishing numbers. The company has to turn away about 1,000 people from its offices every week (classified as “visitor turnaways, or VTAs): sightseers, people hoping to pitch the company on business proposals, and so on. And there’s a steady stream of angry users and protesters who come to cause a fuss.
Facebook’s security team sees dozens of “incidents” a day, which range from people angrily demanding to know why their accounts have been banned to internal issues like staff injuries requiring medical attention. If someone uninvited is hostile, they may be made a BOLO. Some are also classified as a person of interest, or POI.
Facebook would not say directly whether a journalist has ever been made a BOLO, or if the company has ever accessed the location data or other personal information of a journalist (whether a BOLO or not) as part of an investigation. “No person would be subject to the above-mentioned procedures without credible cause. A person — whether a journalist or not — would only be added to a list following an assessment that they constitute a credible threat to Facebook or its staff,” spokesperson Anthony Harrison said in an email.
“Our physical security team exists to keep Facebook staff safe. They use industry-standard measures to assess and address credible threats of violence against our staff and our company and refer these threats to law enforcement when necessary. We have strict processes designed to protect people’s privacy and adhere to applicable laws and regulations. Any suggestion our onsite physical security team has overstepped is absolutely false,” Harrison continued.
Business Insider previously obtained 911 call records from Facebook’s campus, which provided insight into the kind of extreme incidents that can occur: a mace attack on a security guard, a user who had been scammed after being told he’d “won the Facebook lottery,” an angry confrontation over a “non-injury accident,” and so on. But only a tiny fraction of incidents are severe enough to reach the point where 911 is called; the overwhelming majority are handled in-house. In April 2018, for example, there were more than 2,000 “incidents” at Facebook’s offices worldwide, 124 of which were medical incidents.
In one notable incident, in London in 2017, YouTubers were able to sneak into Facebook’s offices in the city and helped themselves to the free food and candy, subsequently making a video about their experiences. As a result, “when those individuals traveled to the US, we upstaffed and made sure every officer was aware of what they looked like in case they tried to access our buildings while they were here,” a source said.
At least one person has managed to sneak past security in an effort to pitch Zuckerberg on an idea and was discovered only after being noticed asking other employees for directions to the CEO’s desk. Another time, an outsider was turned away multiple times after lying about a meeting, only to be let in through a side door by an unwitting employee heading for lunch, a source said. The infiltrator picked up a Facebook-branded T-shirt to blend in, and was discovered only when they tried to survey Facebook employees.
Controversy swirling around Chinese tech giant Huawei means concerns about corporate- and state-sponsored espionage have been headline news in recent weeks. Facebook has never detected anyone infiltrating the company to steal intellectual property or for political reasons, Lovrien said, but it is an issue that the security team worries about, and it has put countermeasures in place to try to “mitigate those potential risks.”
There will also occasionally be unauthorized drone flyovers, as pilots try to get a glimpse of what’s taking place inside Facebook’s hallowed walls.
The majority of activity isn’t malicious. Tourists also flock by the busload to the campus of Facebook, and other Silicon Valley firms, to try to get a glimpse of the world-famous companies or just get a photo next to the iconic thumbs-up sign, adding to the deluge of visitors the security team has to keep track of. (Ninety-nine percent of visitor turnaway is primarily tourists, Lovrien said.)
The company employs technological solutions to help them with all this. It uses license-plate scanners to check the vehicles of visitors, and see if they’re on any blacklists or belong to BOLOs — something that has helped identify stalkers prowling the grounds. And the company has explored using facial-recognition cameras to monitor who’s coming and going but says the tech hasn’t been implemented.
There’s also a Red Team, a “penetration testing” unit in the organization that tries to break into the company’s facilities in creative ways to test its defenses and keep security on its toes. Execs will sometimes be enlisted to help with these tests, swapping entry badges and attempting to gain access as someone else. (Facebook’s security officers are provided with photos of the company’s leadership so they can learn their faces, in much the same way lists and images of BOLOs circulate in preparation ahead of events.)
For the worst-case scenarios Facebook also has its off-duty officers armed with firearms, though their very existence remains unknown to many employees.
Facebook’s security nerve center needs to keep tabs on 80,000 people
In November 2015, when terrorists attacked the Bataclan theatre and other sites across Paris, Facebook’s GSOC sprang into action.
The GSOC — the global security operations center — is the nerve center of the social network’s physical-security infrastructure, monitoring threats, managing issues, and analyzing reams of data. A large room with dozens of computer stations and screens on the wall, it keeps tabs on all its employees’ overseas travel, and as the attack unfolded the team quickly worked to assemble data on Facebook employees in the area, to see if they were in harm’s way and asking them to check in with notification software Everbridge.
No Facebook employees were ultimately harmed in the attack, but it highlighted the GSOC’s role as a key node in Facebook’s efforts to keep its employees safe and secure, especially in times of crisis.
Open 24/7, the GSOC also employs its monitoring capabilities closer to home — keeping tabs on everything from video feeds of Zuckerberg’s home to local shootings or incidents that could affect Facebook employees in the area. One of the most significant day-to-day challenges it handles, Lovrien said, are issues caused by the weather — pointing to the recent deadly tornadoes in Alabama and the need to protect employees and facilities from them as a recent extreme example.
GSOC also has three outposts elsewhere in the world to provide round-the-clock coverage: one in London to cover EMEA; an Asia-Pacific base in Singapore; and a third in São Paulo, Brazil, for Latin America. And it produces the “Daily Brief,” a regular intelligence document that collates recent security issues, emerging issues, employees in high-risk locations, and other data points for company leadership. (Some investigations and research are also conducted by GSII, or global security intelligence and investigations.)
It also handles some Facebook user-focused features. It helps run Safety Check, Facebook’s feature that lets users mark themselves as safe to their friends after terror attacks, natural disasters, and other crises, including the Paris attacks in 2015, as well as the Amber alerts that go out on Facebook to help locate missing children, and Facebook’s blood-donation tool. There were more than 690 Safety Check activations throughout 2018, with more than 37 million users marking themselves safe as a result.
Global security has extensive plans and best practices for security incidents. Executive kidnapped? Notify law enforcement, get proof of life, contact the kidnap-and-ransom-insurance company, and go from there. Active shooter? Gather critical information about the location and description of the shooter, call law enforcement, send out emergency notifications, lock down or evacuate the buildings as necessary, and so on.
Unexpected package sent to an exec’s house? Get information about who dropped it off, make an incident alert, and send the package to the GSII without opening it. Media turned up outside Zuckerberg’s residence? Figure out who they are, why they’re there, send a mobile unit to meet them, and notify police if requested by management or the executive protection team.
Protocols like these are by no means unique to Facebook; they provide a clear agreed-upon framework to follow in times of crises. But they’re indicative of the disparate challenges Facebook now faces in protecting its global workforce, from civil disturbances to safely handling the firing of “high-risk employees.”
Facebook has to similarly prepare whenever it constructs a new facility: When it built its new Frank Gehry-designed headquarters in Menlo Park, the security threats it was forced to consider involved everything from the risk of earthquakes to the possibility of a plane from San Francisco International Airport falling out of the sky onto the campus, causing carnage.
Thefts, fights, after-hours trysts, and the challenges of managing Facebook’s workforce
And in an organization as large as Facebook, whose tens of thousands of employees rival the population of a small city, maintaining order means both protecting the perimeter from outside dangers and staying on top of inside threats.
When numerous employees’ headphones were disappearing a couple of years ago, the company installed a covert mobile camera to monitor desks, a source said. The sting operation caught an employee stealing them to sell online. A Facebook spokesperson said items are sometimes misplaced during office moves, and then misreported as thefts.
But Silicon Valley’s tradition of openness can complicate things, such as the time when an old prototype of an Oculus virtual-reality headset was stolen from a conference room. Facebook — like many companies — doesn’t have surveillance cameras inside its offices, and the enormous open-plan design of the office meant that the pool of suspects would likely be hundreds of people, with no way to narrow it down. There was nothing security could do; the prototype was never recovered.
“The business has identified that we really need that open office environment that promotes our collaboration, and so that’s the risk we’re willing to accept inside an office is that open office environment,” Lovrien said about Facebook’s approach to openness. “So what we then look at is how we mitigate that risk,” from proactively sifting through intelligence to putting physical checkpoints in place and manning the perimeter of the offices.
Facebook also provides employees with access to free vending machines that provide spare charging cables, headphones, computer mice, and other items — which can be another source of thefts. (Lovrien said these thefts are rare.)
Employees sometimes try to use video-chat apps to give their friends virtual tours of the office, which is against the rules. And at least one employee was caught letting in tourists who wanted to take unauthorized tours of the facilities.
The fact that the office is open 24/7 also means there can be NSFW incidents. Employees are caught having sex in the offices about once every three months, on average. (HR may be alerted, but the couple aren’t typically fired.) On the other end of the spectrum, domestic disputes can have workplace consequences. At least one couple working at Facebook had a restraining order between them, forcing the two to work at different locations.
There’s one persistent problem that plagues security teams at companies around the world that is almost completely absent at Facebook: lunch thefts. That’s because Facebook provides an extensive selection of free lunches and snacks for all its workers.
Still, even cafeterias with free meals can have problems.
In August 2013, after Facebook’s beloved head chef died in a motorcycle crash, the company threw a blow-out party with free booze on a weekend to commemorate him. The memorial descended into chaos, with multiple fights breaking out among kitchen staff, which security staff believed were gang-related. The event culminated in one kitchen worker being beaten so badly on Facebook grounds they were hospitalised.
The assailant was subsequently blacklisted, but he continued to sneak onto campus to visit his mother who still worked there.
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WASHINGTON — A federal judge on Wednesday nearly doubled the prison sentence of President Trump’s former campaign chairman, Paul Manafort, to seven and a half years, denouncing him as a man who “spent a significant portion of his career gaming the system.”
Minutes later, the Manhattan district attorney filed a raft ofstate criminal charges, including mortgage fraud, that could ensure that Mr. Manafort remains behind bars even if the president decides — as he has appeared to hint — to pardon Mr. Manafort for his crimes. Convictions for state crimes are not subject to federal pardons.
The proceedings amounted to a wrenching defeat for Mr. Manafort, 69, who came to his sentencing in a wheelchair because of gout and pleading for probation so he could spend his final years with his wife.
Judge Amy Berman Jackson of United States District Court in Washington expressed scant sympathy for his plight. Rather, she closed out the highest-profile prosecution brought by the special counsel, Robert S. Mueller III, with a blistering critique of Mr. Manafort’s character and a rapid-fire litany of his legal and ethical transgressions.
She said that Mr. Manafort had used his many talents as a strategist to evade taxes, deceive banks, subvert lobbying laws and obstruct justice — all so he could sustain an “ostentatiously opulent” lifestyle with “more houses than a family can enjoy, more suits than one man can wear.”
Ever since his initial bail hearing, she said, he had misled her and the prosecutors, part of what she called his determined efforts to obscure the facts. Even on his sentencing day, she implied, he appeared to be making a play for a presidential pardon by wrongly suggesting that he was merely the victim of overzealous prosecutors who had hoped to prove that the Trump campaign had conspired with the Russian government to tilt the 2016 election.
“The defendant is not public enemy No. 1, but he is also not a victim either,” Judge Jackson said.
She stopped short of giving Mr. Manafort the maximum 10-year term that she could have imposed, adding three and a half years to the nearly four-year term Mr. Manafort received last week in a related prosecution in Alexandria, Va. Explaining why she was not harsher, she cited guidelines intended to limit punishment in overlapping cases and the fact that Mr. Manafort’s effort to tamper with witnesses who could testify against him had been “nipped in the bud.”
Her attitude stood in stark contrast to that of Judge T. S. Ellis III of United States District Court in Northern Virginia, who said last week that Mr. Manafort had “led an otherwise blameless life” in sentencing him to 47 months for eight felonies, a punishment that some legal experts described as startlingly low.
In an apparent reference to Judge Ellis, Judge Jackson noted that she was bound strictly by the case in front of her. “What is happening today is not and cannot be a review and a revision by a sentence imposed by another court,” she said.
But she said the scale of Mr. Manafort’s crimes was remarkable. “It is hard to overstate the number of lies and the amount of fraud and the amount of money involved,” she said. “There is no question that this defendant knew better and he knew what he was doing.”
Outside the courthouse, Mr. Manafort’s lead lawyer, Kevin Downing, described Judge Jackson’s decision as “such a callous, harsh sentence that is totally unnecessary.” Mr. Downing, who was repeatedly interrupted by protesters, called it a “very sad day.”
Mr. Manafort’s defense lawyers had repeatedly suggested that their client would be a free man had he not worked for the Trump campaign for five months in 2016, implying that Mr. Mueller’s investigators pursued him for crimes unrelated to the campaign only because they hoped to use him as a steppingstone in the Russia inquiry.
Judge Jackson firmly dismissed that argument, noting that investigators often find evidence of unrelated crimes during inquiries, and that “the perpetrators uncovered that way do not get a pass.” She said the argument was aimed at “some other audience,” an apparent allusion to the White House, not at her.
The judge accused Mr. Manafort of a sleight of hand throughout the criminal proceeding against him, including wrongly inflating his assets in a bail hearing and exaggerating the harshness of his conditions in jail. She suggested that he had sought to outmaneuver prosecutors by agreeing to plead guilty to conspiracy and cooperate with them, then backtracking and lying to the special counsel’s office and a grand jury.
“Was he spinning the facts beforehand to get a good deal, or was he spinning them afterwards to protect others?” she asked. “We don’t know.”
Even Mr. Manafort’s apology for his crimes rang somewhat hollow, she said, because it appeared to be prompted by Judge Ellis’s criticism that he did not seem sufficiently contrite during last week’s sentencing.
Each of the conspiracy charges considered at Wednesday’s hearing carried a maximum prison term of five years. But because the underlying conduct for one conspiracy count was much the same as the bank and tax fraud scheme for which Mr. Manafort was convicted in Northern Virginia, Judge Jackson cut his punishment for that charge in half, to 30 months. “He cannot be sentenced for those components twice,” she said.
She sentenced him to 13 months on the second conspiracy charge, which involved obstruction of justice, saying his efforts to influence the testimony of witnesses had largely come to naught because the witnesses had rebuffed him.
In requesting probation, Mr. Manafort noted that he would turn 70 in two weeks and had already been stripped of his wealth. “Please let my wife and I be together,” he said. “I am a different person than the one who came before you in October 2017,” when he was first indicted.
Much of the hearing in Washington focused on Mr. Manafort’s violations of the law requiring foreign lobbyists to disclose their activities in the United States — probably because the other charges had been aired at length in the Virginia case.
Andrew Weissmann, the lead prosecutor, said Mr. Manafort and others, at his behest, secretly lobbied for the government of Viktor F. Yanukovych, the pro-Russian president who led Ukraine from 2010 to 2014. Former European politicians and other members of Mr. Manafort’s team presented themselves as independent experts, disguising their true client.
“This deliberate effort to obscure the facts undermines our political discourse,” Judge Jackson said.
Judge Jackson tends to be relatively lenient on convicted criminals who appear before her. In the five years that ended in 2017, she handed down an average prison sentence of 32 months, below the Washington district’s average of 46 months and the nationwide average of 47 months, according to court data maintained by Syracuse University’s Transactional Records Access Clearinghouse.
But she also has gone out of her way to make clear that being well connected earns no chits in her court. “She knows who commits white-collar crime,” said Heather Shaner, a Washington lawyer who represented an embezzler in her court. “And she thinks it’s perfectly fine to punish them if they commit a crime and hold them to a higher standard because they have the education, and because they have the wealth.”
The prospect that Mr. Trump could pardon Mr. Manafort has hung over the proceedings for many months. Late last year, Mr. Trump said that he “wouldn’t take it off the table.” More recently, he said, “I don’t even discuss it.”
Asked again after Wednesday’s sentencing, Mr. Trump said: “I have not even given it a thought, as of this moment. It’s not something that’s right now on my mind.” He added, “I feel very badly for Paul Manafort,” saying “certainly, on a human basis, it’s a very sad thing.”
He said again that the special counsel’s investigation was “a hoax.” In remarks that appeared aimed at the president, Mr. Downing said outside the courthouse that “two courts have ruled no evidence of any collusion with the Russians.”
In fact, Judge Jackson and Judge Ellis simply noted that the evidence against Mr. Manafort was not related to Russia’s election meddling.
The new charges filed in New York, in an indictment secured by the Manhattan district attorney, Cyrus R. Vance Jr., were apparently meant to ensure that Mr. Manafort would be punished even if he was pardoned. They were rooted in the same financial fraud that led to Mr. Manafort’s downfall in federal courthouses. He is charged with falsifying business records to obtain millions of dollars in loans from two banks.
“No one is beyond the law in New York,” Mr. Vance said. He said his investigation had “yielded serious criminal charges for which the defendant has not been held accountable.”
While a spokesman for Mr. Manafort said he had no comment, some legal experts predicted that Mr. Manafort would challenge the new charges on the grounds of double jeopardy.
Facebook is under criminal investigation over data-sharing deals it signed with Apple, Amazon, and other major tech companies, reports the New York Times.
The partnerships, first reported in June, gave those outside companies to data including friends lists, contact information, and even private messages — and not always with the user’s consent.
Most of those partnerships have ended over the last two years.
Facebook tells the Times that it is cooperating with investigators.
Federal prosecutors have opened a criminal investigation into data-sharing deals struck between Facebook and makers of mobile computing devices like smartphones and tablets, reports the New York Times.
Under the terms of those deals, which the Times reported about in June, Facebook allowed device makers including Apple, Amazon, and Microsoft to access personal user data, including friend lists, contact information, and sometimes even private messages — and not always with the user’s consent, the report alleged.
According to the New York Times report, a grand jury in New York has already subpoenaed information on these types of deals from at least two smartphone and other device manufacturers involved.
“We are cooperating with investigators and take those probes seriously,” a Facebook spokesperson told Business Insider. “We’ve provided public testimony, answered questions and pledged that we will continue to do so.”
News of the criminal investigation is the latest in a series of controversies surrounding the 2-billion member social networking giant. Facebook has been struggling to rehabilitate its public image amid revelations that it allowed Cambridge Analytica to improperly access the personal data of many of its users and the growing evidence of how its social network has been used to spread misinformation during the 2016 US Presidential elections.
Facebook’s stock declined 1.5% in after hours trading on Wednesday.
Wednesday’s Times report, which cited anonymous sources, said it was not clear what exactly the grand jury inquiry overseen by federal prosecutors is focused on, or when it began.
In December, following the Times report, Facebook said in a blog entry that these partnerships were necessary to enable certain social features in outside apps, like logging into a Facebook account from a Windows phone, or sharing what Spotify song you were listening to via Facebook Messenger.
“To be clear: none of these partnerships or features gave companies access to information without people’s permission, nor did they violate our 2012 settlement with the FTC,” wrote Facebook in that blog post.
Most of those partnerships have ended over the last several years.
The United States Department of Justice declined to comment on the report.