It's been called a culture of puffery and winking.
And what's now crystal clear in the wake of the Enron fiasco is that it isn't unique to Houston.
All too often, it's the way Wall Street works when things are going well. There's way too much bull in a bull market.
Companies cleverly play down the negative. Analysts don't ask the tough questions because they might not like the answers. Directors look the other way because they don't want to mess up a good thing. Accountants are too hooked on their client's cash to do the thorough audits they should.
Investors quite rightly don't know what -- or who -- to believe anymore.
Enronitis, as this loss of investor faith has been called, has hit dozens of once-respected U.S. companies, including Tyco, VeriSign, WorldCom, Global Crossing, Kmart and Reliant Energy.
In spite of the protestations of U.S. President George W. Bush, Enron is not just a business scandal. It's also a political scandal. And it wasn't just Wall Street that fell under the spell of the culture of puffery and winking.
As the economy surged, the politicians who ought to have been protecting investors and the integrity of the markets may have inadvertently planted the seeds of this scandal.
In 1995, the Republican-controlled Congress passed sweeping legislation to shield Corporate America from legal liability. Lawyers, accountants, directors and executives won broad new protection from lawsuits, which companies complained were being filed in waves by lawyers looking for easy settlements.
The result is that the chances of shareholders and investors successfully suing Enron -- and perhaps other companies down the road -- have been substantially diminished.
Likewise, when former U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission chairman Arthur Levitt begged Congress to pass legislation to separate accountants' lucrative business consulting work from their primary audit work, the politicians said no.
As a parade of ex-Enron and Arthur Andersen officials make the trek to Capitol Hill this week, members of Congress gleefully jabbed their fingers at the scoundrels they blame for disgracing Corporate America.
Yes, they're disgusted at not getting straight answers.
But perhaps they ought to look more closely at themselves. For years, unrestricted campaign cash has flowed from U.S. companies and interests seeking favours to those with political power. In return, the givers get access and influence.
Seventy members of the 100-member U.S. Senate and nearly half of the 435-member House of Representatives pocketed campaign contributions from Enron. Andersen and the other four Big Five accounting firms poured millions of dollars into the political system.
Lawyers, who also benefited from enhanced liability protection, have been among the top givers to both Democrats and Republicans for years.
The Bush administration was closer to one company -- Enron -- than any U.S. administration in recent memory, perhaps ever. Enron was a major and early donor to his presidential campaign -- the most expensive on record. Several of the company's advisers later joined the administration.
Mr. Bush then arrived in Washington aggressively pushing for expanded deregulation of energy markets -- the fundamental business that Enron was engaged in before its collapse.
Among the few positive outcomes of the Enron demise is that campaign finance reform -- repeatedly torpedoed by Congress -- has won a new lease on life. There is a renewed push on to pass significant new limits on unregulated so-called soft-money donations that companies, special interest groups and individuals give to political parties.
The Enron saga has provided a unique window of opportunity for the United States to bring its political rules in line with those of its key economic allies, including Canada and the Europeans.
But House speaker Dennis Hastert, the top Republican in the House and a key Bush ally, has vowed to oppose any bid to ban soft money and limit political ads, reportedly likening the fight to "Armageddon" at a closed-door meeting this week.
Quite rightly, the Republicans worry that the new spending rules could seriously hamper their ability to retain control of the House of Representatives in this fall's congressional elections.
Mr. Bush has said he's for some campaign finance reform. But he clearly doesn't want to sign a bill that would alienate Republicans, or jeopardize their hold on Congress.
So there it is: The Enron end-game.
Mr. Bush has a rare chance to limit some of the campaign finance abuses that have tainted the work of Congress for decades. Or, he can give a wink, and perhaps open the floodgates to a wave of future Enrons.