After hearing that Bernard Madoff received one of the highest-ever prison sentences for a white-collar crime, I cynically joked to friends that the judge must've mistaken Madoff for a black man. Madoff's lawyers were hoping Judge Denny Chin of the U.S. District Court would consider their defendant's age–he's 71–and grant him just a 12-year stint. Instead, the judge had little sympathy for the depleted-looking, gray-haired man standing before him in the courtroom on June 29, and slapped Madoff with the 150-year maximum. Naturally, this is no case of judicial bias. Dark humor aside, Madoff had it coming. Under the guise of being a caretaker of people's money–nest eggs, inheritances, and entire financial futures–he pulled off what we've come to know as the largest fraud in history. Madoff's investment firm is responsible for bilking clients of an estimated $13 billion. Though Madoff's victims were largely mega-wealthy investors who traveled in rarefied social circles, they've engendered class-blind sympathy from the larger American public, who themselves have lost large amounts of wealth at the hands of financial calamity. In 2008, as the housing bubble fizzled and took the financial markets with it, Americans lost $11.1 trillion (or 18%) of their household wealth. Half of that falloff came in the final three months of the year, making it the steepest quarterly drop in all the 57 years that the Federal Reserve has kept such records. Madoff's sentencing has deeper meaning for the country. It puts final punctuation on the post-9/11 period in which secretive guardians of all-that-we-hold-dear thrived. In the aftermath of the dot-com bust earlier this decade, hordes of investors turned to hedge funds and other investment vehicles that promised outsized gains. Investors tolerated financial wizards who worked behind a curtain of unorthodox methods and arcane mathematical formulas. They believed their money managers were working magic. Besides, finance professionals told them, "it's all much too complicated to explain.†Indeed, Madoff reportedly told investors that one stipulation of joining his special coterie of clients was that they never press him on how he plied his trade. The phenomenon wasn't only evident in the world of finance. In this now departed era of secrecy, Madoff was to money what Vice President Dick Cheney was to terrorism. Both argued that as sentinels of security (our lives, our money), they should not be questioned about their methods. Even though the former Vice President is on the media circuit making the case that torturing terror suspects and engaging in other more shrouded "intelligence†tactics kept us safe after the attacks of 9/11, the time for such empty justifications has passed. Americans want an explanation. Most observers will argue that President Obama is ushering in this new "transparency.†But Obama is merely a representation of the broader trend. At a time when most Americans have the Internet at their fingertips–on cellphones, handheld devices, and computers–information abounds. Consumers no longer take a local shoe vendor's reasoning for high prices in stride. They research sales on Zappos.com or Shoebuy.com. Homebuyers aren't forced to take a realtor's word on the value of a given house. They can go to Zillow.com and get an impartial estimate. Obama is in the White House precisely because Internet Age Americans demand nothing less in politics. In Obama they see a similar ability to open up–about race, about the economy, and about American's future–with a forthrightness and candor previously missing in public figures. Now, after Madoff and the financial crisis of '08 and ‘09, investors will hopefully demand similar transparency in matters of money. Back when the Madoff scheme was first uncovered, Black Enterprise gave investors tips on avoiding financial scams. The centerpiece of the advice is that you monitor your investments and ask probing questions. Never pour money into an investment your adviser can't intelligibly explain. BE also recommends the following: -- Promises of high investment returns almost always mean high risk. Anything that sounds too good to be true probably is. -- Don't mistake a smart appearance, smooth sales pitch, or flawless manners for integrity. "Con†is short of confidence. Swindlers gain trust by appearing to be paragons of professionalism. -- Before hiring a financial adviser ask to see licenses, and then double-check that information at www.finra.org/brokercheck or www.adviserinfo.sec.gov. -- Get a second opinion. Just like with medical advice, it helps to get another professional's advise on a particular investment or strategy. -- Don't let shame keep you from reporting a scam. If you feel you've been defrauded, file a complaint with the Financial Industry Regulatory Authority of the Securities and Exchange Commission, or your state's securities regulator–which you can find at www.nasaa.org/about_nasaa/2062.cfm. If the administration has its way, the federal government is about to begin imparting the same lessons that BE has been providing for decades. In June, the Obama administration proposed a major overhaul of the financial regulatory system, the biggest since the Great Depression. If "sunlight is the best disinfectant,†as Supreme Court Justice Louis Brandies once famously said, the administration wants to tear down the dark curtain that sits between consumers and those who manage their money. As part of the reform package, the White House wants to set up a Consumer Financial Protection Agency (CFPA) that will help to educate consumers about good personal finance practices in the same way the FDA offers public service education about maintaining a proper diet. The agency, as envisioned by the White House, would also force banking and financial firms to explain their products, like mortgages and credit card agreements, in easy-to-understand detail. In part, consumers have the Madoff scandal to thank for these sweeping proposals. Welcome to the Era of Sunlight.