“So, any big plans for after graduation?”
As an English major, this question generally gives me the urge to reach for the nearest object I can use as a weapon. If you know anything about those studying the written word, you know that we don’t have the math skills to balance our checkbook, we lack the organizational prowess to keep a steady supply of clean underwear in the drawer, and we’re usually void of foresight. Otherwise we would’ve majored in something sensible that required no work or skills, and promised a fat paycheck. Like communication.
Even if you are in a “hot” major like bioinformatics, you might be biting your nails over the dismal job market. Take a good look down the hall at the philosophy major with smoke billowing from underneath his door—no matter how hard you study, you’ll be serving coffee with him at Starbucks before you know it.
The fact that I’m not already on my way to making millions means that I’m a colossal failure in this country. Money, besides being the root of all evil, is the ultimate status indicator for Americans. Unfortunately, there are far too many of us who are gunning for a new car rather than searching for happiness.
And that’s why so many students get pulled into companies like ACN, featured in our cover story on page six. These bastards prey on the good intentions and eagerness of youngsters like you and me, using our work and money to fill their own coffers.
It works something like this: you hear about a company that is hiring people like you (!) for what seems like a lot of money. You go to a seminar in some sort of dank motel basement, where the cult leaders—er…managers—wave Rolexes in your face and then subtly ask for an “investment” that will put you on the road to “being your own boss.”
Then you’ll have to sell their worthless product to your friends, since you’re not going to get any help from the company and you don’t know anyone else. Like some sort of reverse commune, you’ll make a miniscule portion of what you sell for the company, while the overlords wax their BMWs with legal tender. By this time, they’re the only friends you have because everyone else hates hearing about the fantastic company that’s sucking the life out of you.
And that’s all these places see you as—a doorway to more customers and workers. By the time you realize writing that check was a bad idea, the chuckleheads in wingtips will have taken all of your earnings. You’ll have sold a bunch of crap (be it knives, phone service, whatever) to your closest relations with nothing to show for it. So perhaps you’ll recruit some other unwitting saps so you can skim their earnings and make some money back off of your “initial investment.” It’s the circle of life, baby.
Does that sound like a pyramid scheme to you? It should, because it basically is. Companies like ACN and Vector Marketing (who are behind Cutco knives) are under a constant barrage of litigation for pulling this scam. That’s alright, though, because if they get shut down in one state or country, they move to the next. The only requirements for their employees are a beating heart and a voice box. A big address book helps, too.
While these pyramid companies are by far the worst of the worst, as you enter The Real World you should be ready to defend your interests no matter where you end up. It’s a sad fact, but the white-collar crimes at the top of Enron, WorldCom, Adelphia, and Tyco all show us that there are people in this world who only see a dollar sign when they look at us. Keep a vigilant watch for them, and be equally careful not to become one yourself.
From just outside the real world,
Charles Wiff - Associate Editor
