Rick Singer, man behind 'Varsity Blues' college admissions scandal, is again advising students
Rick Singer, the man convicted of orchestrating the so-called "Varsity Blues" college admissions scandal, has continued to advise prospective undergraduates on their college applications while serving his sentence in federal prison in Florida, and now from a California halfway house.
Singer, 64, a one-time college admissions consultant who pleaded guilty in 2019 to facilitating bribes between wealthy parents and elite universities in exchange for their children's enrollment, told ABC News that he began to counsel students — pro bono — after he was sentenced last year.
Then, this past admissions season, while he was at a federal prison camp in Pensacola, Florida, Singer said, "The coolest thing ever happened."
"I had a young man send me an email saying, 'Could you help me with my applications and tell me if I could get into these schools?'" Singer told ABC News during a sit-down interview.
The applicant sent Singer his high school transcript and a list of his credentials. Singer, whose advice was once sought by higher-powered executives and Hollywood actors, wrote back, offering a few pointers. The student was accepted to his top school in March, Singer said.
This summer, Singer launched a new venture called ID Future Stars, a consulting business that boasts an 80% to 96% acceptance rate into first-choice schools. According to the site, "Our success speaks for itself."
But his return to the college admissions world could be a challenge. Singer's reputation unraveled after he pleaded guilty to racketeering conspiracy, money laundering and obstruction of justice charges in the decades-long scheme that federal investigators dubbed "Operation Varsity Blues."
Federal prosecutors in Boston said Singer facilitated $25 million changing hands from families to college administrators and athletic coaches, who would dole out spots on their rosters to fulfill their fundraising goals. Singer transferred, spent or otherwise used more than $15 million for his own benefit, they said.
"Everything that the U.S. attorney said, and the FBI said, and everybody else said that I did do, I did it," Singer told ABC.
Yet even four years later, Singer said the conspiracy amounted to a "victimless crime."
News of the admissions scandal broke in 2019, when Andrew Lelling, the U.S. Attorney for the District of Massachusetts, announced the charges against Singer and over 50 others, including college coaches, testing administrators and actors Lori Loughlin and Felicity Huffman.
The charges led to about 50 convictions and became the subject of at least four books, a Lifetime movie and a Netflix documentary.
In January 2023, a judge sentenced Singer to 42 months in federal prison. This August, he was released to a halfway house near Los Angeles.
For years, Singer said, he had operated a lucrative and legitimate college consulting business. But that changed around 2011, when he realized he could not push some clients through what he called the "front door." He had become close with the students and their families, and wanted to do whatever he could to help them, so he developed a new admissions scheme: the "side door."
While Singer said that a majority of his consulting has always been legitimate, he explained that the new scheme began with one student and soon expanded.
"There was a young man who was super talented, worked his tail off," Singer said. But the student would always perform poorly on practice SAT or ACT exams.
So he found a way to get the student's application to the top of the pile: He began to bribe standardized testing proctors to turn a blind eye to permit cheating on the exams, prosecutors said.
I knew "it was wrong, and I did it anyways," Singer said. "What's 10, 12, 13 kids who are good students, quality people, and this one score may screw them out of an opportunity to go to a decent school? I rationalized that to myself."
Soon after, the stakes grew. Singer was well-known in the world of higher education, and he said presidents of several prestigious universities had contacted him, hoping his clients would donate millions of dollars to their schools.
He said that he began to set up meetings between the presidents and parents to discuss their children enrolling in the university. "The negotiations would go from whether the school was a good fit for the student to, 'What does the president need? What does the family need? Would there be a chit involved?'" he said, referring to a monetary favor.
Singer, a former basketball coach, said he was sympathetic to coaches and the pressure they faced to fundraise ahead of their sports seasons. So he said that he began to set up similar meetings between them and his clients. At times, he faked the students' athletic credentials to push their applications through.
"First I went to three, four coaches. Then the word got out to all the coaches, and coaches started calling me every year," Singer said.
"If they needed to raise $250,000 or $500,000 for the program, they would call me and say, 'Hey, I have a spot. Do you have a family that would like to come here?'" he said.
When asked if he thought his scheme may have prevented legitimate recruits from earning their way on a collegiate team, Singer said: "All I'm doing is being the facilitator and providing the coach this choice."
On March 12, 2019, the day he was charged, Singer said he left John Joseph Moakley Courthouse in Boston and looked down at his phone.
He said he had received 93 text messages in less than an hour. Most, Singer said, were from clients looking for above-board advice and wondering whether he would still be able to meet with them for a consultation.
