University of Spoiled Criminals

It was the Tuesday of Spring Break. I was standing in a crowded BART morning commute train barreling towards the Transbay Tube when my friend, fellow Trojan and traveling companion John got my attention.

“Scott,” he said, with a bemused tone. “Did you know that USC is a victim?”

I chuckled at the obvious joke. “Of course,” I responded. “We’re the most victimized college I’ve ever attended.”

John shook his head, grinning to himself. “Check your email, bruh. Shit just got really dumb.”

The admissions scandal had just broke, and all across the Trojan Family, news was spreading about the scheme that had brought dozens of under-qualified students into prestigious universities. I, like thousands of others, stared at my phone with a mixture of disappointment, bitterness cynicism, and amusement as the USC tried their damndest to put a positive spin on blatant academic admissions fraud.

Following the email blast framing USC as the victim, several media outlets confirmed that no, USC was not the victim, and in fact behaved very poorly in overseeing their academic and athletic admissions process. However, the most interesting part of the case wasn’t how parents abused their wealth and influence, which wasn’t surprising to anybody. Neither was USC being at the center of a scandal, which, frankly, wasn’t a new development. Instead, it was the viral nature of the scandal that set it apart and made it memorable.

As I scrolled through my various social media accounts that day, the focus on both my friends and journalistic pundits I followed online was the same. Despite the widespread nature of the scandal, USC specifically, particularly Olivia Jade Giannulli and her mother Lori Laughlin, was the main thread across all outlets. Everybody from the New York Times to Buzzfeed to that guy you kinda knew back in high school was singling out, discussing, and mocking USC for its role.

The story, serious questions about wealth and equality of opportunity aside, was hilarious and seemingly built for online content. Olivia Jade’s instagram added hundreds of thousands of new followers overnight, while her monetized Youtube views skyrocketed. Lori Laughlin and University of Spoiled Children were trending on twitter. Weeks worth of media content would be generated across the country and world, sparking debate and consternation.

Ironically, the actual case information held little water in online debate. Instead, students academic standing, particularly Olivia Jade, were most scrutinized. A clip from her youtube channel mocking class attendance was widely shared across social media. The New York Times published a human interest story about poorer USC Annenberg students living amongst wealthy Trojans. Within a week, the scandal had brought down the most successful Water Polo Coach in NCAA history and several other administrators, while elected officials, school presidents, Secretary of Education Betsy DeVos, and other supposed “thought leaders” couldn’t help but weigh in.

It is safe to say, in terms of actual content and human impact, this story paled in comparison to, for example, the dozens of Americans who die every night and all the war, poverty, and general human suffering worldwide. But combining wealth, scandal, intrigue, and even some sex appeal, the story couldn’t be stopped. News travels fast, and the extreme online interest in the case prompted quick and immediate reactions from practically all involved. The Internet and its massive reach might just have changed the course of USC, resulting in stronger oversight and new leadership at the Athletic Department, including the recently departed Athletic Director’s Swann song.

Whether USC will actively lean towards fairer admissions remains to be seen, but the online energy directed towards the scandal certainly couldn’t have hurt. Maybe the thousands of retweets, news stories, and exasperated comments actually brought change to my university. Then again, maybe not, and the next aggravating USC scandal lies just around the corner. At the very least, more people than ever know about the general shadiness of our operations and the lengths we have to progress to achieve fairness and opportunity for all.

And, if we could just stop admitting people with the initials of OJ, maybe we can finally start avoiding these scandals to begin with.