Scam
I love a good scam. Well, reading about or viewing them on the big screen anyway. Rather than participating certainly--either as perpetrator of victim. James M. Cain, Raymond Chandler, Elmore Leonard, Carl Hiaasen. From noir to wacky. My dad and I would swap paperbacks and movie recommendations.
“You can’t cheat an honest man” suggests W. C. Fields as Larson E. Whipsnade. (Whipsnade! What a name!) Fred MacMurray should have paid attention in the film adaptation of Double Indemnity. As an insurance man himself, he should have known you can’t get away with killing your mistress’s husband. Not even to win Barbara Stanwyck--whose character is so thoroughly liquidly seductive as to make the screen sirens of today seem to be in black-and-white by comparison.
The Sting from 1973 is also worth rewatching. Would it be going to far to suggest that the moral order of the universe is restored when the loathsome Robert Shaw loses all that money to Paul Newman and Robert Redford? Such a great scene!
King Solomon knew that “pride goeth before a fall.” Readers and audiences rejoice the hardest when the fall is the longest. The person who gets scammed should have a high enough net worth so that they don’t need more money. The person who gets scammed should be oblivious to the plight of the less favored. The person who gets scammed should only be about themselves, not looking out for—in the following example--their children.
So what are we to make of parents who fall for the following con? Do they deserve to get caught? Do they warrant public humiliation? Do they merit losing a hundred thousand dollars? The rapacious, unethical scammers don’t earn our sympathy certainly. I’ll leave to my gentle readers to determine if the culprits and the duped are equally culpable.
Does the following pitch sound at all familiar? Does it remind you of recent headlines? Do you know any parent of a high school student applying to college who would fall for this nonsense? The scam would be laughable were it not so effective.
“I know someone in the admissions office” the pitch begins. “I can’t tell you who exactly. Someone high up, someone who makes decisions, someone who can green light an application, someone whose decision cannot be questioned.”
“I’m not at liberty to disclose the connection. Let’s just say that the head of the admissions department at Harvard (or Duke or Stanford or wherever) owes me a favor, owes me big time. Again, I can’t discuss it. But if the story ever got out, the head of admissions would have a problem. The head of admissions had a family member who was in trouble with the law. That’s why I have a favor coming. The head will do anything to keep this legal issue a secret. And I’m calling in that favor for your child. I guarantee that your child will be admitted to this highly selective school.”
“I am completely positive that your child will be admitted. Your child’s senior year course schedule includes AP English, AP Calculus, AP Physics, AP French, AP Government and Economics. Your child is captain of the swim team, a bronze medalist in the backstroke in the State Meet, and president of the student body. But Harvard, Duke, and Stanford all have single-digit admissions ratios. Everyone who applies has a similar résumé. The competition also has five advanced placement courses and is captain of a sports team. Your child needs a boost. I’ve seen students with six AP courses get rejected; I’ve seen students who were silver medalists be denied; I’ve seen students who were fluent in four languages be turned down.”
“That’s why you need me. Again, I guarantee that your child will be admitted. My fee is $100,000.”
“But I am so certain I have the inside track that you don’t even have to pay me unless and until your child is admitted. That’s right. I trust you. Put away your check book. We have an agreement. In April, when your child gets in, you can pay me then. That’s how certain I am that I can get them in.”
Okay, that’s it. That’s the narrative. That’s the pitch. Can you spot the scam?
I’ll give you a hint. It doesn’t take long to communicate the above balderdash to a parent. A few brief conversations will do it. Here’s some more information to help you figure out how this scam which has been bamboozling weathy but misinformed folks since the 1930s, continues to fool well-intentioned parents today. Note that the sleaze ball doesn’t know anyone in admissions. An admissions officer wouldn’t return his call anyway. Recommendations of this type are routinely disregarded. How does the scammer make money? How does he get $100,000 when the student is admitted?
Ready for the answer? The morally reprehensible person doesn’t really know anyone in admissions, has no influence. But if he makes this “offer” to a hundred different families, he clears a cool half million dollars a year.
Remember the student’s resume? Solid course work, strong athletics, meaningful extra-curriculars? Yes, highly competitive colleges have minuscule admit ratios. Five percent is tiny. But five percent of a hundred is five. Five of the kids get admitted—no thanks to the do-nothing scam artist. Five times a hundred thousand dollars is $500,000. Not a bad yearly income for telling a story about being connected but not actually doing anything.
Do you feel sorry for parents who believe that where their child attends is more important than how the child performs? Are you sympathetic to these folks who have more money than sense? Do you believe they got what they deserved? Join the discussions by leaving a comment on our community board—or write me privately if you prefer. I promise to answer every email. And should you hire me to guide your family through the transition process, I promise not to pretend I have a connection with any admission professional anywhere.