Yesterday morning, the entire admissions scandal hit really close to home, because of this:
See, I actually know these people. I’ve been to parties at their house. (A house, incidentally, which actually has a freakin’ elevator, which I’d never seen in my life before).
How can I put this politely? “Dumber than a box of rocks” would, I suppose, be unkind. Suffice to say that I didn’t have a heart attack from the shock of knowing the kid needed a skosh of extra help.
Listen, people, I’ve got this whole thing figured out. Hear me now, and believe me later.
Rich people want their dumbshit kids to get into an “elite” school. They are willing to do things to get them in, such as buying buildings or making huge donations. Some of things are done in public. Others are done in backroom deals.
This is an economics problem. There is a strong demand for these spots. The schools pretend entrance is based on merit, but that’s only the case for those who are not in the 1%.
So here’s your answer: each year, each elite school gets to auction off a certain number of spots. Maybe it’s ten. Maybe it’s twenty. A small enough number to not really screw up the overall intelligence of the campus, but a large enough number to satisfy the venal desires of the well-to-do.
The bidding is done secretly, and the top 10 (or whatever the number is) get admission for their dumbshit brats.
- The school, because it has raised extra money that can go to more deserving students;
- The parents (those that won the auction, at least), who get the satisfaction that their child is placed somewhere they can brag about;
- The kid, at least until such time as he flames out at school and ultimately goes on to be a drug addict or, failing that, at least piss away the family fortune later in life.
Who loses? Well, I guess you could say that the 10 qualified kids who didn’t get in, but there’s a certain amount of utilitarianism here, considering the money being raised (and, I would remind you, being raised in the open). Or, screw it, just tack on an extra 10 spots to your admissions rolls and make plain that the same quantity of qualified candidates are going to get in.
The only thing I’m not sure about is whether or not the unqualified students would be made known. They could be called Endowment Scholars or something like that. But I’m leaning toward not publicly disclosing these kids for two reasons. First, it would diminish the size of the bids the colleges would get for selling these spots, and second, the peers of the aforementioned boneheads would realize soon enough that there’s not a lot going on upstairs.
There. Problem solved. You’re welcome, academia!