The Online University Hustle

Where have all the mortage brokers gone, long time passing?

If the husband's recent experience offers any evidence, they've gone to online universities every one and become admissions advisers. Why do I say this? Because enrolling in a college training course these days is a lot like getting hustled to sign up for one of those nothing-down, no-doc, variable rate mortgages of yesteryear.

Here's what happened. The husband read about the Supreme Court's recent decision to require lab analysts to testify at all trials where scientific evidence is introduced. He figured forensics would be a growth field. Instead of sitting around the house looking like a retired copywriter (or an unemployed one) why not retrain as a crime scene investigator and start a new career?

Despite worries about him wading through gallons of germ-laden gore, I jumped up and down for joy. Heaven knows we need the dough, and if I got lucky, maybe the husband would start dressing like David Caruso instead of Seth Rogen. So he was off to the computer to research.

In no time at all, he was deep in conversation with a representative of Kaplan University. Kaplan, which is owned by the Washington Post Company, has so many ads online that if you so much as walk by your computer, somebody gives you a call. Anyway, the "admissions advisor" -- they spell it with an "o" -- wanted to know everything about the husband, including his high school G.P.A. from 200 years ago. She prodded him to sign up for a Kaplan bachelors degree program in criminal justice, but he pointed out that he already had a B.A. She countered that, in that case, he could do the degree in two years. That would cost him $14,000. The husband, a tightwad of the first order, said that he was looking into other options including a certificate course at a local community college which would take just two semesters and $3,500. "Well!" she said as though insulted, adding something to the effect that if he was even thinking about a low-down community college, he clearly was not qualified to attend Kaplan. "I'm discarding your folder," she said huffily and hung up.

Now it's true that the husband is not a mover and shaker. But on his SATs, he scored above the 98th percentile of all the kids taking the test. So I think he could qualify for admission to Kaplan University, especially considering that the school offers a lot of its courses online, allowing it to enroll the entire population of Bangladesh without any danger of overcrowding.

But pushiness is Kaplan's M.O. Put "Kaplan University" and "complaints" into any search engine, and you'll be able to spend hours, maybe even days, reading enrollees' gripes. A few things pop out: Many of the students, although assured otherwise by the school's bossy admissions advisers, wind up with huge student loans. Most drop out; Kaplan has a graduation rate of only 38%, according to the Online Education Database, which says it gets the stats directly from the school websites. Those who do graduate complain that their diploma doesn't qualify them to get the jobs they trained for. Talk about broken dreams. They end up without better prospects but saddled with debt that they don't have the income to pay.

The same picture emerges in a False Claims lawsuit filed against Kaplan by three former employees who charge that the school is little more than a chain of call centers. According to Tampa attorney John W. Andrews, "advisors." are merely "high-pressure, hard-core salespeople." (A False Claims suit allows "insiders" to sue on behalf of the government. If they win, they are entitled to a share of what the government recoups.) In violation of education law, says the first amended complaint, "Kaplan rewards the enrollment counselors by providing trips to exotic resorts, free membership in certain clubs, and...other contest rewards." No wonder the husband's "admissions advisor" was so snippy. He was not going to be her trip to Cancun. Enrolling thousands of students, many of whom are not qualified for college, says Andrews, yields Kaplan about $500 million a year in revenues that come directly from the U.S. Treasury either as grants or loan guarantees, if students default.

Kaplan told the Chronicle of Higher Education that the allegations are not true. Time--and maybe a trial--will tell. In the meantime, if you're thinking of going out for re-education, caveat pushy admissions counselors.