Bernard Madoff confessed his guilt in a Manhattan courtroom yesterday. Even so, his remorse contained echoes of the uniquely American hubris that got him into trouble in the first place.

Vaguely resembling George Washington in profile, Bernie Madoff commanded the attention of the 100 people who crammed into the 24th floor of federal courthouse to witness his historic plea.

Ever since his arrest last fall, he has been anointed the very soul of white-collar criminality in America. Yesterday Bernie Madoff pleaded guilty to 11 felony counts in what authorities say was a $65 billion pyramid scheme.

"I am actually grateful for this opportunity to publicly comment about my crimes, for which I am deeply sorry and ashamed," he said. No one seriously believes he was "grateful" for the opportunity to be sentenced to 150 years in jail eventually. Still, he knew he was expected to express some sort of public remorse. Banality was better than silence.

Most of us heard Bernie Madoff's name for the first time last fall just as the global economy began its short march to the precipice. He was one of several horses of the financial apocalypse at the time and we could hardly get our heads around what he had done. The scale of his theft seemed unimaginable.

We have since learned that the American business community had produced many Bernie Madoffs over the years. Lacking his ambition, they bilked investors on a much smaller scale, but with the same zeal.

"I operated a Ponzi scheme," Bernie Madoff said in response to U.S. District Judge Denny Chin's instruction that he speak loud enough to be heard in the courtroom.

His words rolled from his tongue like thunder. How can a simple admission of guilt be both anticlimactic and full of unbearable drama? Somehow, Bernie Madoff stumbled upon the perfect formula for saying what was shockingly obvious. It was a "duh!" moment that deserved repeating to every investor he robbed.

The former Nasdaq chairman was composed according to media reports. He didn't shed a tear as he laid claim to masterminding what could be the biggest investment swindle of all time.

"I thought it would end quickly, but it proved impossible," he said. It was as if he believed that his own greed was somehow out of his hands. Instead of making a quick score that would have shattered the faith of only a few investors who trusted him back in the 1990s, he continued the scam for years.

Who knew that his once law-abiding heart was capable of such deviltry? "I am ashamed for these criminal acts," the 70-year-old told the judge. "I always knew this day would come."

Two dozen victims were on hand to bear witness about the effect his crime had on their lives. Life savings had been stolen. Philanthropies had been decimated. Fortunes had been looted. Trust had been eviscerated. Lives had been destroyed.

But Bernie Madoff was not interested in making eye contact with his "marks." Like Raskolnikov in "Crime and Punishment," he had come to confess. Telling the truth would be good for his soul even if it didn't do anyone else any good.

"How do you now plead to the information -- guilty or not guilty?" Judge Chin asked. "Guilty," Bernie Madoff said.

At that moment, he knew that he would never see his $7 million penthouse again. He took responsibility for lying to the Securities and Exchange Commission, but it isn't likely that the sacrificial nature of his confession will move the spotlight of suspicion away from his family. Why should his family escape financial ruin when so many of his victims' lives were destroyed?

"The other businesses were legitimate, profitable," he insisted, adding "those businesses were run by my brother and my sons." Given the enormity of the crimes he's confessed to, the $67 million his wife Ruth claims as "legitimate" family assets won't escape scrutiny -- nor should it. Even Raskolnikov committed two murders partly to advance his family's interests.

Authorities have only been able to recover $1 billion in assets, far short of what he is accused of stealing. Judge Chin denied Madoff's lawyer's motion for bail pending his sentencing in June.

When they threw the cuffs on Bernie Madoff, the courtroom erupted with applause. There was hope that he would finally feel pain as he was escorted to jail. But Bernie Madoff didn't flinch. He'd lived a long, good life -- most of it in luxury. Now, he was ready to pay.

Going to jail is Bernie Madoff's way of picking up the tab.