Chapter Twelve - The Bankruptcy Scam

CHAPTER TWELVE

The Bankruptcy Scam

PURDUE DIDN’T GO out of business.

It went to court.

In 2019, with thousands of lawsuits mounting and documents piling up, Purdue filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy. A move designed not to disappear, but to control the collapse.

Bankruptcy court doesn’t work like criminal court.
It doesn’t care about guilt.
It cares about math.

And Purdue knew the math.

By declaring bankruptcy, they could freeze the lawsuits. Force everyone into a single negotiation. Cap their liability. Protect the company’s remaining assets. And most importantly, shield the Sacklers.

That was the real goal.

Because the Sacklers weren’t bankrupt. Far from it.

In the years leading up to the filing, they quietly extracted over $10 billion from Purdue. They moved it through a maze of trusts, shell companies, and offshore accounts. They saw the storm coming and got out first.

When the bankruptcy began, they offered a deal:

We’ll contribute billions to help fight the opioid crisis, but only if you guarantee we’ll never be sued again.

It was bold. Shameless. And backed by an army of lawyers.

They called it a ‘global settlement.’ Victims called it a bribe with immunity attached.

The bankruptcy court didn’t have the authority to grant legal immunity to individuals who hadn’t declared bankruptcy, but that’s what the Sacklers demanded. Legal scholars called it a loophole. Purdue called it justice.

The case dragged on for years. Appeals, reversals, split rulings. Some states accepted the deal, desperate for funds to deal with the addiction crisis. Others held out, unwilling to let the family that built the machine walk away clean.

But in the end?

It looked like the Sacklers would get exactly what they wanted.

Billions paid out from a company that no longer really existed.

A restructured Purdue, reborn as a “public benefit company,” still generating revenue.

And the Sacklers?

As of now, no prison. No trial. No admission of guilt.

Just new homes, new trusts, new galleries, and a reputation washed in court-approved settlement language.

This wasn’t bankruptcy.
It was strategic withdrawal.

A full retreat under the cover of legal fog, designed to preserve the thing that mattered most:

The fortune.

The wreckage was now a matter of record.

But the architects walked out the side door untouched.