Rick Singer was, in the government’s words, “the architect of a massive, decades-long scheme to use fraud and bribery to secure the admission of high school students to elite colleges and universities ...” The scheme, known by its FBI code name, Operation Varsity Blues, – again quoting from the government’s sentencing memorandum – ” was staggering in scope” and “breathtaking in its audacity.”

This past week in federal court Singer appeared in front of Judge Rya Zobel for sentencing. He got three and a half years.

The large menu of bribery and cheating options Singer offered rich parents indeed was breathtaking. It included inventing resumes and fabricating credentials, arranging for imposters to take SATS, paying off test proctors and bribing coaches. Clients paid Singer $25 million. He funneled bribes of more than $7 million and netted about $15 million for himself.

In 2019, Singer pleaded guilty to conspiracies to engage in racketeering, money laundering and defrauding the government, as well as obstruction of justice. He became an informant.

When law enforcement targets a criminal enterprise, it usually starts by flipping low-level participants, in order to work their way up the ladder of culpability. Here the opposite happened. The feds first snared Singer, the king fish, and used him to hook the smaller fry.

Singer’s phone calls with clients and potential clients were secretly recorded by the FBI. In those conversations, as NPR put it, he would “methodically and craftily get (his clients) to incriminate themselves by acknowledging the payments and bribes they had paid.” He made hundreds of calls and wore a wire for in-person meetings. The recordings became the heart of the government’s prosecutions.

But Singer also secretly tipped off at least six clients or prospective clients that future calls with him would be monitored and recorded, and so when speaking with him, they should deny participation in the scheme.

At sentencing, prosecutors agreed that Singer’s cooperation had been “hugely valuable,” “hugely significant” and “singularly valuable,” and indeed was the linchpin for more than 50 guilty pleas and verdicts. They argued however that his cooperation was “plagued with missteps” which should diminish the reduction in his sentence he otherwise would receive for his cooperation and assistance.

Prosecutors wanted the judge to send him away for six years. The defense requested a maximum of six months.

Of the 53 parents and coaches ensnared by Singer, about 25 percent have received no prison time (some of them cooperated as well). Including those who received no time, two-thirds were sentenced to three months or less. Three people have received a sentence of a year or more, the longest, prior to Singer’s, being Gordon Ernst’s, the Georgetown tennis coach, who received $3 million in bribes and got 30 months.

The argument for leniency in these cases? The crimes were non-violent; almost all defendants admitted their culpability and accepted responsibility for their crimes; none had a criminal record; they posed no danger or a risk of recidivism; they had made significant contributions to their communities; the charges themselves caused them reputational harm and financial loss; and unlike, for example, drug charges, pornography or cases with physical injury, the crimes were essentially victimless.

The victimless crime argument is not completely accurate. The victims here include students not admitted because the slots were filled and the colleges that were defrauded of students who would have attended — though it’s really hard to feel sorry for, say, Yale, Georgetown or UCLA.

There’s another consideration. Extended time inside the razor wire fails to serve most of the purposes of a criminal sentence — protection of the public, rehabilitation and deterrence. Any time served behind the razor wire more than fulfills the objective of deterrence. Experts in penology agree that more time does not equal more deterrence. Most time inside is just punishment.

And all time in prison is hard time. How would you feel after spending a day locked in a cage? How about a week or a month? Care to consider what a sleepless night feels like there, or the isolation and repeated searches of a body cavity, for example.

In addition to his 42 months inside, the judge ordered Singer to forfeit his assets and pay the IRS $10 million.

That said, before expending any empathy on Rick Singer, we should consider all the persons caught up in the criminal legal system who are victims of racism and economic inequality, who have had none of the advantages enjoyed by many white-collar criminals like him, who are serving more difficult and years- or-decades-longer sentences.

For Rick Singer, there was a lot to say in mitigation. He suffered significant trauma in his youth. He had been a dedicated coach and counselor. His college-counseling business started out as legitimate but, succumbing to his “win at all costs” obsession, morphed into criminality. When caught, he immediately accepted responsibility and cooperated with the government. And his cooperation was immensely helpful.

Three and a half years is a long time. Of some solace for Rick Singer — his sentence could have been far, far worse. If he had been a poor Black or brown person charged with a street crime, it likely would have been.

Bill Newman, a Northampton-based lawyer and WHMP radio talk-show host, writes a monthly column.]]>