The 1990s Sotheby’s and Christie’s price-fixing scandal

Imagine the two most glamorous rivals at the gala—Sotheby’s and Christie’s—pretending to claw each other's eyes out for your business while secretly holding hands under the table.

In the 90s, these icons of 'old money' got caught in a very tacky price-fixing scheme. Instead of competing to give sellers a better deal, they whispered in backrooms and agreed to charge the exact same non-negotiable fees.

It was a total social faux pas that cost them 500 million dollars and a few prison sentences. Turns out, even the elite can’t resist a cheap shortcut to a profit.

Wait, so which one of these 'besties' eventually stabbed the other in the back?

In the world of high-society scandals, there is no such thing as a blood pact. When the authorities started sniffing around, Christie’s pulled the ultimate 'it wasn't me' move. They ratted out their partner-in-crime to the Department of Justice to secure total immunity.

They handed over a mountain of incriminating memos, leaving Sotheby’s chairman to take the fall. He traded his bespoke suits for a prison uniform while Christie's walked away with a mere slap on the wrist and a very awkward reputation.

What exactly did those 'incriminating memos' say to get someone locked up?

It wasn't done over formal tea. The CEOs met like star-crossed lovers in the back of chauffeured cars and airport lounges, far from the prying eyes of their own boards.

They literally swapped physical lists of clients and agreed-upon commission rates. The memos were the ultimate 'burn book,' documenting every secret meeting and handshake deal they made to stop the price war.

When Christie’s handed those over, it was like leaking the group chat. Sotheby's couldn't claim it was a misunderstanding when their handwriting was all over the 'let's rob the guests' plan.

Who were the actual people hiding in those chauffeured cars?

It was a classic case of the 'help' getting too comfortable. The main players were Dede Brooks, the fierce 'Queen of Sotheby's,' and her Christie's counterpart, Christopher Davidge.

Dede was the ultimate corporate social climber, doing the dirty work for her billionaire chairman. She thought she was untouchable, orchestrating these back-seat rendezvous like a clandestine affair.

But in high society, once the music stops, the knives come out. When Davidge was pushed out of Christie's, he used those memos as a survival kit, trading them to save his own skin.

But which billionaire was actually the mastermind behind this backroom deal?

That would be A. Alfred Taubman, a shopping mall tycoon who bought Sotheby’s as the ultimate social accessory. He allegedly ordered the 'price-fixing' menu during those private meetings.

While Dede did the heavy lifting, Taubman played the aloof aristocrat. He claimed he was 'out of the loop,' but the jury decided his fingerprints were all over the bill.

He eventually traded his velvet slippers for prison boots, serving ten months. It was the ultimate social suicide—going from the boardroom to the bunk bed.