Narrator: It’s Sunday morning, and a manager named Frank is in a state of rising panic. The crucial presentation he’s due to give to the executive board tomorrow is built on a lie. The data, charts, and analysis provided by his promising new hire, Dave, have been plagiarized, lifted directly from an industry magazine. As Frank frantically tries to salvage his career by creating a new presentation from scratch, Dave, under the guise of being helpful, emails the plagiarized version directly to Frank’s boss, who loves the "fresh ideas." Frank is trapped. This scenario, a meticulously crafted web of deceit, isn't just a workplace drama; it's a calculated act of sabotage by a predator hiding in plain sight.

This chilling dynamic is the central focus of Snakes in Suits: Revised Edition by industrial-organizational psychologist Dr. Paul Babiak and Dr. Robert D. Hare, the creator of the standard tool for diagnosing psychopathy. The book provides a critical field guide to understanding the corporate psychopath, a social predator who charms, manipulates, and ruthlessly plows their way through the professional world, leaving a trail of shattered careers and empty wallets in their wake.

Narrator: Before one can defend against a corporate psychopath, one must understand that they are not simply difficult or ambitious colleagues. They are clinical predators operating with a distinct playbook. Unlike the stereotypical axe-wielding villain, the corporate psychopath’s weapons are charm, manipulation, and a profound lack of empathy. Their behavior follows a predictable three-phase process: assessment, manipulation, and abandonment.

In the assessment phase, they size up individuals, categorizing them by their usefulness. In the manipulation phase, they forge a "psychopathic bond" by mirroring their target's values, desires, and insecurities, creating a powerful illusion of being a soulmate or perfect partner. They are masters of impression management, pathological liars who can tell a story with complete conviction, even when it’s a total fabrication. This is illustrated in the case of Ted, a man who was the beloved chairperson of his neighborhood block association, a churchgoer, and a seemingly devoted husband. His neighbors were stunned when police arrived one day and arrested him. It turned out Ted had been embezzling from his company for years, and "Ted" wasn't even his real name; he had another wife and family in another state. He had constructed a perfect, trustworthy persona—a psychopathic fiction—to mask his parasitic life. Finally, in the abandonment phase, once a victim has been drained of all value, whether it's their ideas, their connections, or their reputation, the psychopath discards them without a shred of guilt or remorse.

Narrator: Psychopaths don't just appear in organizations; they are often hired with enthusiasm. Their success in the hiring process stems from their ability to exploit the very systems designed to vet candidates. They excel in interviews, where their superficial charm, confidence, and ability to tell compelling stories are often mistaken for leadership potential.

The case of Dave at Garrideb Technologies is a textbook example. The company was growing rapidly and desperate to hire talent. Dave arrived looking the part, with a polished appearance and an expensive suit. He radiated enthusiasm and an uncanny understanding of the company's strategic plan. He told the interviewers exactly what they wanted to hear, so much so that one manager remarked, "One could not ask for a better candidate." Eager to secure this "perfect" hire, Frank, a manager, bypassed standard protocol. He ignored the HR director's suggestion to convene all interviewers for a final review and instead offered Dave the job over lunch, even sweetening the deal with a sign-on bonus. Dave, in turn, skillfully negotiated an even higher salary. The company’s urgency and Frank’s reliance on a positive first impression allowed a master manipulator to walk right through the front door, celebrated as a star employee before he had even started.

Narrator: Once inside an organization, the psychopath views the workplace as a chessboard and the employees as pieces to be moved. Babiak and Hare identify three key roles people play in the psychopath’s drama: pawns, patrons, and patsies. Pawns are individuals with influence or access to resources whom the psychopath manipulates to do their bidding. Patrons are powerful figures, often senior executives, who are charmed by the psychopath and unwittingly provide protection and support, defending them against detractors. Patsies are those who are ultimately set up to take the fall for the psychopath's mistakes or are discarded after their usefulness has expired.

Consider the case of Ron, a manipulative salesperson. His old boss, Joe, was a lax manager nearing retirement. Ron used Joe as a patron, supplying him with gifts of single-malt scotch in exchange for signing off on questionable expense reports. When a new, by-the-book manager named Jack arrived, Ron immediately began assessing him, attempting to turn him into a pawn through flattery and feigned admiration. When Jack enforced stricter rules, Ron shifted tactics, using veiled threats and emotional appeals, even revealing his former boss's drinking problem to gain sympathy. Ron’s entire strategy was based on identifying and exploiting the weaknesses of his superiors to maintain his privileged position.

Narrator: While traditional, rule-bound bureaucracies can be inhospitable to psychopaths, the modern business world—characterized by constant change, restructuring, and downsizing—is their ideal hunting ground. In environments of chaos and uncertainty, the lines between good and bad leadership become blurred. A psychopath’s risk-taking can be mistaken for vision, their impulsivity for high energy, and their lack of emotion for the ability to make tough decisions.

These individuals often fall into one of three styles. The "Con" uses charm and deceit to get by. The "Bully," like Helen "The Pit Bull," uses coercion, fear, and aggression to control others and achieve results through intimidation and unethical means. The "Puppetmaster" is the most sophisticated, combining conning and bullying to manipulate others from a distance, using pawns to abuse those lower in the organization while they remain safely insulated from the fallout. As the character Littlefinger famously stated in Game of Thrones, "Chaos isn't a pit. Chaos is a ladder." For the corporate psychopath, organizational turmoil is an opportunity to climb over the bodies of others to the top.

Narrator: Protecting oneself and an organization from a corporate psychopath is incredibly difficult, especially since they are masters at discrediting anyone who threatens them. The book emphasizes that awareness is the first and most critical line of defense. On a personal level, this means meticulously documenting interactions, goals, and performance reviews. It means actively managing one’s reputation by building strong relationships with colleagues and upper management, creating a network of allies that can vouch for one's competence and loyalty.

However, the sobering reality is that the psychopath often wins. In the final act of Dave's story, Frank and his boss John finally piece together the full extent of Dave's deceit—the fake degree, the negative references, the manipulation of his colleagues. They resolve to go to the CEO, Jack Garrideb, and have Dave terminated. As they wait outside the CEO's office, the door opens, and Dave walks out, smiling. He has just been promoted to Frank's job. Frank is fired. This outcome underscores the most chilling lesson of the book: corporate psychopaths are so effective at manipulating patrons in power that even when the evidence is clear, the organization may choose to eliminate the truth-teller rather than the charismatic liar.

Narrator: The single most important takeaway from Snakes in Suits is that corporate psychopaths are not a myth, nor are they just "bad bosses." They are predators who operate with a specific, identifiable, and destructive methodology. Their success is not a reflection of their talent or value, but of their ability to exploit the systems and human decency of the people around them. They succeed because we are not trained to see them for what they are, often mistaking their manipulative traits for leadership qualities.

The book's ultimate challenge is to force us to look beyond the polished exterior. It asks us to question our own judgment and to be vigilant against the charm that feels too good to be true. After reading this, you are left with a critical question: are you equipped to see the snake, even when it’s wearing a very, very nice suit?