What do you get when you cross a get-rich-quick scheme with a for-profit college, while adding a healthy dose of reality TV megalomania? The answer is Trump University–a series of “classes” designed to teach aspiring young entrepreneurs the secrets of real estate passed on from the Donald himself.

Trump University, which Marco Rubio used as fodder for his attacks on Trump during last night’s Republican primary debate, did indeed exist, and many people are mad about it. Rubio was correct when he told the debate audience that there are pending lawsuits against Trump for his involvement with the organization.

There are currently two active class action lawsuits against either Trump or his company. The first is Cohen v. Donald J Trump, a lawsuit against Mr. Trump specifically which cites a violation of the Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organizations Act. This lawsuit highlights that the New York State Education Department warned Trump that it was unlawful to call the unlicensed ‘school’ a university. There’s also a national lawsuit named Makaeff et al. v Trump University LLC, which cites a violation of state consumer protection false advertising and elder financial abuse laws. Some people who paid for an education with Trump University are dually covered by these class actions.

Some of the failures of Trump University can be attributed to mismanagement. But many of the complaints against it allege deception and fraudulent practices. The university promised to reveal Trump’s real estate secrets. This was done through video advertising featuring Donald himself as well as flyers mailed out with Donald Trump’s signature. When interested would-be students attended these free seminars they found a marketing pitch for a three-day conference that would cost about $1,500.

Naturally a portion of these free attendees decided to pay for the three day conference–after all who wouldn’t pay less than $2,000 to receive “the last real estate education you will ever need for the rest of your life?” But these attendees were disappointed yet again when they arrived at the three day conference only to find that they were able to take a picture with a cardboard cutout of Donald Trump, and then encouraged to sign up for a Gold Elite program. At this point, the students who hadn’t realized how similarly this program structure reflected Scientology and had never heard of a scam, agreed to charge $35,000 to their credit cards for this special program.

The lawsuits claim that Trump University even provided scripts for the students to use when calling their credit card companies to explain how they could afford such a large charge. Students were allegedly told to include potential future earnings in their income reports to allow the credit card companies to provide such a sizable sum.

In typical Trump fashion, almost every detail of the lawsuit has been denied. The executive vice president of the Trump Organization Allen Garten said that “there’s no merit to these allegations whatsoever” and that the suits came forward “completely out of a financial motivation.” Garten points to a “98 percent approval rating,” but many claimants have argued they felt pressured to fill out good ratings, with some claiming they were given the survey before the program began.

There are some participants who say that the Trump University experience was beneficial for them, including one customer who paid for the Gold Elite Package, who claims that calling the education helpful “would be an understatement.” This is in stark contrast to one of the claimants in the lawsuit saying that after her $35,000 payment she was unable to reach any of the instructors for further tutelage.

As Donald J. Trump continues to totally dominate in the polls, in the primaries, and in delegates, his opponents are scrambling to cut down his support. The scandal of Trump University may prove to be a useful tool for eroding Trump’s success, but so far, nothing seems to stick to the candidate.

Sean Simon

Sean Simon is an Editorial News Senior Fellow at Law Street, and a senior at The George Washington University, studying Communications and Psychology. In his spare time, he loves exploring D.C. restaurants, solving crossword puzzles, and watching sad foreign films. Contact Sean at SSimon@LawStreetMedia.com.

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Charleston Law School has had a tough few years. It was established in 2003–right when that big law school boom was starting– and its first class graduated in 2007. The school began as a way to fill a gap in legal education that existed in Charleston; despite the fact that it’s the second largest city in South Carolina, there was not a law school there when Charleston Law began operating.

In 2013, the school began dealing with a company called InfiLaw, which eventually purchased the school pending approval by the American Bar Association (ABA) and South Carolina’s commission on higher education.

InfiLaw is part of Sterling Enterprises, a private equity company from Chicago, and it operates for-profit law schools. Currently there are three in InfiLaw’s collection–Florida Coastal School of Law, Arizona Summit Law School, and the Charlotte School of Law. Charleston Law would be the fourth. The company’s reputation within the law school field isn’t particularly stellar. There are concerns that InfiLaw is a scam, and predatory–after all, it takes students who can’t get into other law schools, puts them into massive debt, and then those students have a very difficult time finding jobs that can pay off said debt. In an in-depth piece on for-profit law schools that focused heavily on InfiLaw, the Atlantic attempted to pinpoint the company’s motivation:

A Florida Coastal faculty member who is familiar with the business strategies of private-equity firms told me that, in his view, the entire InfiLaw venture was quite possibly based on a very-short-term investment perspective: the idea was to make as much money as the company could as fast as possible, and then dump the whole operation onto someone else when managing it became less profitable.

Regardless of whether or not those are actually InfiLaw’s practices, actually taking over Charleston Law could lead to serious changes at the school.

That’s where this all gets very, very messy. Those two entities that have to approve the sale–the ABA, and the South Carolina Commission on Higher Education (CHE)–have a few different moving parts. It’s a confusing mess, but essentially what’s happened is that one committee of the ABA, the accreditation committee, has approved the sale; however, another part that needs to give its approval, the Council of the Section of Legal Education and Admissions to the Bar, has deferred making a decision. They’re waiting on the CHE, who have their own set of problems with which to contend.

Now CHE is caught in the middle. One of Charleston Law’s founders, a man named Ed Westbrook, doesn’t want the school sold to InfiLaw. He’s in the minority, as the other two founders want to see it go to InfiLaw. Westbrook claims that he can successfully operate it as a non-profit, without taking any money from the state. He’s made vague statements about using his own money to do so. Now, both Westbrook and his lawyers, and InfiLaw and its lawyers are reaching out to the CHE with conflicting proposals and information. Westbrook’s optimism is admirable, I guess, but Charleston Law as it stands seems a bit like a sinking ship. For example, the school’s new President, Maryann Jones stepped down in November. She lasted in the job for a grand total of eight days. Her reasoning was described in an email she sent when she resigned:

The level of vitriol, with all sides making me a lightning rod for an unfortunate situation that was not of my making, makes this truly a situation that I am unwilling at this stage of my life to undertake.

Back to the CHE approval though, which appears to be the lynchpin to this deal. Want to be even more confused? There are 15 seats on the CHE. Four are vacant, and eight are being held by people whose terms have technically expired. Governor Nicki Haley is trying to fill those seats–but that would be in January at the earliest.

So, will InfiLaw succeed in its takeover of the Charleston School of Law? I have absolutely no clue. This tangled web of players, committees, and arguments is a mess–perhaps symbolic of the messy relationship between the ABA, for-profit law schools, and students. Whatever happens, it’s now in the CHE’s hands…and I for one do not envy them.

Anneliese Mahoney

Anneliese Mahoney is Managing Editor at Law Street and a Connecticut transplant to Washington D.C. She has a Bachelor’s degree in International Affairs from the George Washington University, and a passion for law, politics, and social issues. Contact Anneliese at amahoney@LawStreetMedia.com.

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With a name like FastTrain College, you probably expect a top-notch education system along the lines of Harvard or Yale; however, what you apparently get is a different type of top entirely. When FastTrain wants you (so basically if you are a man), it will send out its top admissions officer. And by top officer, I of course mean an exotic dancer dressed provocatively in an effort to lure you into the school. Because every life decision should be made by the size of the breasts and attractiveness of the faces you will see when you get there. (Though since I chose my college strictly on the size of its dorm rooms, I suppose I cannot really judge.)

Courtesy of Giphy.

Strippers aside, the school was not as morally motivated as you might expect from an organization that got you to attend by showing you sexy women. The school had a few questionable practices, too. For example, it would apparently give you a high school diploma if you didn’t have one so that you could attend college, which really is very nice even if it is not legal. Let’s all pretend that the real reason isn’t so that the new high school “graduate” can now apply for student loans that will go to the school to pay for their higher “education.” The school also asked students to lie on their government forms. All in all, it stole a whole lot of government money–meaning millions–which led to an FBI raid, criminal charges against the owner, and an ongoing civil suit.

Courtesy of Giphy.

This is a pretty titillating subject don’t you think? (Yes that pun was intended.) More than 100 students from this now-defunct school (only open a few years) are in default on their loans; however, the students going there during the raid will not have to pay. Because of a closed door provision, the government will do the following to a loan from this time: drop it like it’s hot.

I have a feeling this school will not win its lawsuit and will have to repay the money it took. Lucky for FastTrain, it has a real clear way to collect those fees: strip show on campus!

Here is my advice to prospective college students: do not go to a school that is run by strippers unless you are going to school to become a stripper or a stripper-voyeur. I promise you will not regret this advice as ludicrous as it might seem now.

Ashley Shaw

Ashley Shaw is an Alabama native and current New Jersey resident. A graduate of both Kennesaw State University and Thomas Goode Jones School of Law, she spends her free time reading, writing, boxing, horseback riding, playing trivia, flying helicopters, playing sports, and a whole lot else. So maybe she has too much spare time. Contact Ashley at staff@LawStreetMedia.com.

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