Have you ever had a nightmare where you tried to convince everyone you were you, but nobody believed you? Well, William Woods lived that nightmare for fourteen months while an identity thief was living his best suburban life as a fancy IT administrator, complete with a wife, kid, and probably a golden retriever named Spot.
As reported in the New York Times, when Woods — who was homeless and therefore obviously must be lying according to every single authority figure he came in contact with — tried to set the record record straight, he was:
• Thrown in jail for 428 days
• Forcibly medicated, because how dare he insist he was himself
• Shipped off to a psych ward for five months
• Told by a judge that he wasn't allowed to use his own name
Meanwhile, the actual identity thief, Matthew "I'll Just Take This Man's Whole Life" Keirans, was living large as an IT administrator in Milwaukee, probably writing passive-aggressive notes about proper break room etiquette and telling dad jokes at staff meetings.
The best part? When Woods tried to prove his identity, the system was like "Sir, this is a Wendy's, and also you're crazy." Yet when Pod Person Woods in Wisconsin flashed his stolen ID, everyone was like "Seems legit!" He had to be the real Woods because he was the middle-class white guy in khakis. Case closed!
It took one decent detective at the University of Iowa to do what apparently no one else could be bothered to do: actually investigate. Detective Ian Mallory did this crazy thing called "DNA testing" and — surprise — the homeless guy was telling the truth the whole time. Keirans eventually got sentenced to 12 years in federal prison, where he's probably explaining to his cellmate how he's actually William Woods and demanding the return of his prized Star Wars bobblehead collection from his old IT department desk, right next to where his "World's Best Identity Thief" coffee mug used to sit.
And I don't even need to tell you what happened to all those prosecutors, judges, cops, bank executives, and credit bureau bureaucrats who helped destroy Woods' life through their special blend of smugness and incompetence. But I will, because rage-typing is therapeutic: They're probably getting promotions and teaching seminars on "Advanced Techniques in Willful Ignorance." The judge who ordered Woods not to use his own name? Probably receiving an award for "judicial wisdom" at some $500-a-plate rubber chicken dinner. The prosecutors who couldn't be bothered to run basic identity checks? Likely applying for cushy private sector jobs where they'll make partner by Christmas. The bank managers who ignored his desperate pleas? Still collecting bonuses for their "attention to customer service." And those credit monitoring agencies that couldn't be bothered to investigate his claims? They're probably selling new "premium identity protection packages" for $29.99 a month. Because in America's overlapping systems of justice and finance, being catastrophically wrong about someone's basic human rights isn't a career-ending disgrace — it's just another bullet point on your resume, as long as the person whose life you ruined was poor enough that nobody who matters had to notice.
Previously:
• Identity theft's newest target: your face
• Anti-identity-theft huckster has had identity stolen at least 13 times
• Lifelock anti-identity theft service helped man stalk his ex-wife
• Experian sold consumer data to identity thieves' service
• Lauren Boebert's son Tyler pleads guilty, dodges jail time
• Equifax lets identity thieves raid 'frozen' credit reports through its shady, obscure secondary credit bureau