Nightmare Success In and Out teaser

Nightmare Success In and Out teaser on Nightmare Success

Nightmare Success In and Out teaser shares a first-hand white collar story and practical lessons for people navigating legal pressure, incarceration, or reentry.

Key Takeaways

  • Alec hired unconventional salespeople including ex-felons and strippers, focusing purely on selling ability rather than traditional pharmaceutical industry credentials.
  • The company used fraudulent speaker bureaus to pay doctors up to $200,000 extra annually, specifically targeting primary care physicians making around $150,000 who would be motivated by the additional income.
  • Alec served his federal prison sentence during COVID, which added isolation to an already restrictive environment, and now focuses on speaking engagements rather than chasing corporate success.

When a Guidance Counselor Decided to Play in the Big Leagues

Alec Burlakoff had what most people would call a good life. He was working as a guidance counselor at an affluent private school, driving nice cars, living in a house he’d paid for in cash. He was home every night with his two little girls. But something gnawed at him.

“I was surrounded by people with crazy money,” Alec told me when we talked on the podcast. “Being around the money and getting to an age where I’m no longer like 21 22 23 but I’m starting to be around 30 year olds and I’m seeing all the money they have and the way they talk and where they act the way they dress it all started to mold me.”

The breaking point came in a carpool lane. A parent in a Bentley convertible was smoking a cigar where kids were walking by. When Alec politely asked him to put it out, the man took another puff, blew smoke in his face, and said, “Petty rules from Petty people.”

That moment changed everything. Within months, Alec would leave his stable job and enter the pharmaceutical world, where he’d eventually help generate over three billion dollars in sales. He’d also end up in federal prison.

The Sales DNA He Tried to Escape

Growing up, Alec had watched his father and older brother dominate the car business. At dinner tables, he was the observer while they talked deals and closings. His father had started in printing, moved to Florida on a whim without a job, and worked his way up to GM. His brother followed the same path even faster.

“There’s sales ability in the family of DNA,” Alec explained. But his father didn’t want him in sales. “I loathed it. I thought it sounded like hell.”

So he went the opposite direction. Got his master’s in child psychology. Became a guidance counselor. Tried to build a life away from the hustle his family lived and breathed. But the money around him at that private school kept pulling at something inside.

When a former colleague called about an opportunity at Eli Lilly, Alec was ready to listen. The transition felt natural once he made it. “What made me successful in sales was my ability to speak and get people to listen and follow,” he said.

Building an Empire on Broken Rules

Alec’s approach to pharmaceutical sales was different from day one. While the industry prized college degrees and biochemistry backgrounds, he focused on one thing: who could actually sell.

“I hired salespeople if somebody came across my desk and they happened to have a college degree or a master’s great but if they couldn’t… I started to think back to the people that I went to school with from my childhood from college that are some of the best sales people I’ve ever seen in my life not because I’ve watched them or observed them in Pharmaceuticals but because I’ve seen them in a bar.”

He hired an ex-felon. He hired a stripper he met while entertaining physicians at a club. When HR questioned the lack of degrees, his response was simple: “Who said you need a college degree to sell?”

The founder, John Kapoor, backed these decisions as long as one question had the right answer: “Can he sell?”

Alec’s unconventional team worked. Sales exploded. But the methods they used to drive those numbers would eventually bring down the entire company.

The Speaker Bureau That Wasn’t About Speaking

The real money came through what they called a speakers bureau. Alec and his team researched doctors across the country, looking for specific profiles. They wanted physicians who prescribed high volumes of opioids, often in questionable circumstances.

“We found 20,” Alec said about doctors willing to participate in their scheme. “You kind of knew who that was you know they had they had a profile where the people were standing outside there was a… the thing in the government where you could use their profile of who prescribed what how often all those different things that were red flags for you guys in in a way for sales ways.”

But it wasn’t just about finding pill mills. The targeting was sophisticated. They focused on primary care physicians making around $150,000 a year, doctors who could be enticed by an extra $200,000. They looked for divorced doctors trying to hide money, introverts who rarely socialized.

“Even when we did our extensive research you know and we pre-qualified and so forth before I went out there or one of the directors or managers to have that conversation you know it could still blow up in your face,” Alec explained. “You could be fully prepared for an exam and literally you know in the middle of the dinner he walks out.”

When the Walls Started Closing In

Success bred boldness, and boldness bred carelessness. Alec knew he was feeling the heat when investigative reporters started calling. Articles appeared about doctors getting arrested, patients dying. The connections to their drug, Subsys, were becoming impossible to ignore.

“I felt it and then I read a couple articles where a doctor got in trouble because his patient died not on substance alone but on a plethora of medication substance being one of them you know and I’m like oh this can’t be good,” he said.

When his civil attorney called to say he needed criminal representation, Alec was in California on business. The message was clear: person of interest was moving to subject, and subject meant target.

“Once you’re subject you’re pretty much you are a Target,” he realized. “Target means indicted and once indicted you are you’re cooked tagged and cooked.”

Prison During COVID and What Comes After

Alec served his time during the pandemic, which added another layer of isolation to an already restrictive environment. Now he’s out, off probation, trying to figure out what comes next for someone with his particular set of skills and history.

“When you get out I think there’s somewhat of a liberating feeling as I can do that if I can do that I can pretty much do anything I might be a little bit scared of what you’re presenting me but I know I can do it because I’ve adapted to pretty much anything,” he told me.

He’s done speaking engagements at colleges, finding that the feeling of connecting with an audience gives him something he’s been missing. “A lot of people don’t understand that I’ve tried to explain that to others because even people now are so like again it’s about money and I’m like no it’s not about money it’s about the other things that I’m missing.”

As a convicted felon, the corporate world is closed to him. But he’s not looking back with regret about losing that edge that made him successful. “I want peace and happiness in my life I want moderation I want to make a living well I don’t need to be like successful like that.”

From guidance counselor to pharmaceutical executive to federal prisoner to whatever comes next. Alec’s story shows how quickly things can change when you decide the rules don’t apply to you. The question now is what he builds with the time he has left.

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