Three-Card Monte: How Regulators Hide the Red Queen
Three-Card Monte: How Regulators Hide the Red Queen
By F’nAround Media
When three different regulators in three different jurisdictions all line up and start playing games with public records…
If you’ve ever watched three-card monte on a sidewalk, you already understand modern regulation.
There’s a dealer.
There’s a table.
There’s a crowd.
And there’s always one card you’re never supposed to see.
The Red Queen.
You don’t win by guessing faster.
You don’t win by yelling louder.
You win by watching hands, not cards.
Over the last year, I’ve been watching three different tables. Different accents. Same game.
Table One: “Oops, Our Bad”
At the first table, the dealer was confident. Flashy. Loud.
Lots of shuffling. Lots of talk about how everything was handled “appropriately.”
So I did the boring thing.
I asked for the rules.
Not the players.
Not the rumors.
The process.
At first, the cards moved fast.
Then slower.
Then suddenly thud one slipped off the table.
An admission.
Not a scandal.
Not a headline.
Just a quiet acknowledgment that a required step… wasn’t taken.
A report that should’ve been made… wasn’t.
The dealer froze.
That’s when you know you saw the Red Queen.
They didn’t flip the table.
They didn’t run.
They just stopped playing.
“Nothing more to see here,” they said.
And the table went quiet.
And I prep for the noise…
Table Two: “Let’s Take This Offline”
The second table was smoother. Corporate.
This dealer wore a headset.
Before I even asked for the rules, I got a phone call.
Then another.
“Hey, just wanted to chat.”
“Let’s clear this up real quick.”
“Probably easier off the record.”
Classic monte move.
When you ask for rules and the response is conversation, it’s not customer service it’s containment.
Then came the shuffle.
Eight hours of work.
Sixty business days to find it.
That’s not delay.
That’s padding the felt so the cards disappear into it.
Nothing denied.
Nothing refused.
Just… time.
The Red Queen stays hidden when the crowd gets bored and walks away.
I never forget….
Table Three: “There Are No Cards”
This one was my favorite.
I asked for: rules, manuals, guidance, training, checklists, and anything explaining how decisions are made.
The dealer didn’t even shuffle.
They looked me dead in the eye and said:“Those don’t exist.”
Not exempt.
Not confidential.
Not redacted.
Nonexistent.
No manuals.
No policies.
No guidance.
No training.
Just pure law, descending magically from the heavens, perfectly executed by humans who apparently require no instruction whatsoever.
And then chef’s kiss they emailed me outside the official table and said:
“Feel free to email the deputy director if you have questions.”
Buddy…
If there are no cards, why is there a dealer?
That’s not three-card monte anymore.
That’s pretending the sidewalk doesn’t exist.
Where’s the Red Queen?
Here’s the thing about three-card monte:
The Red Queen never disappears.
She’s just palmed.
At one table, she slipped out accidentally.
At another, they tried to talk while shuffling.
At the third, they claimed the deck was imaginary.
Different tactics.
Same goal.
Because the Red Queen isn’t a scandal.
She’s process.
She’s the boring stuff: Who checks what, When disclosures matter, How problems get flagged, And why some never do.
You don’t hide her by denying wrongdoing.
You hide her by denying rules.
Why This Matters (Without Yelling)
This isn’t about villains.
It’s about games.
When regulators play monte:
Accountability becomes optional
Consistency becomes a rumor
And “trust us” replaces “show us”
I didn’t chase the cards.
I watched the hands.
And once you see the move, you can’t unsee it.
So I’ll just sit here.
Hands in pockets.
Eyes up.
The Red Queen always shows eventually.
She hates being hidden.
And patience is the key because patterns don’t rush, they finish.