I mean I don't think it's that tricky of a concept. Every piece of writing, or art for that matter, is generally supposed to elicit some sort of feeling. The only one this piece made me want to feel was anger or indignation toward the serial killer expert, which I thought was pretty unfair and one-dimensional way of presenting the man. He was well respected in the crime community and by law enforcement, and because he made up a relatively harmless lie the New Yorker kind of eviscerated him in the last paragraph...all to drive home the point you shouldn't lie I guess? Life's more complicated than that.