When information breaks, who pays?

Before I studied markets, I studied molecules. My academic journey began in chemistry at Duke and the University of South Florida, where I learned to think in terms of systems, reactions, and evidence. That scientific training — the insistence on rigor, on letting data lead, on questioning assumptions — became the foundation for everything that followed.

The pivot from science to finance came at NYU Stern, where working in financial services gave me a front-row view of how information moves through markets — and how often it gets distorted along the way. That experience drove me to academia: I wanted to understand these distortions systematically, not just observe them anecdotally.

At Cornell, I found my intellectual home in information economics. My doctoral work, with minors in both econometrics and finance, gave me the methodological toolkit to study the deep structure of price discovery. Since then, my research has followed the information — wherever it gets produced, wherever it's corrupted, wherever it fails to reach the people who need it.

Today, my work spans from documenting racial bias in Wall Street analyst forecasts, to exposing how pharmaceutical companies contractually suppress clinical trial results, to measuring the trillions in intangible assets that modern accounting systems systematically omit. The through-line is always the same question: when information breaks, who pays?