(Odd) On-Campus Posters

Pyramid Scheme or Opportunity?

By: Alex Hadlock

At the top is a headline, cheaply edited with a Sharpie, and near the bottom, what looks like the photocopied image of a driver's license. These identical pieces of yellow cardstock have appeared again and again across bulletin boards at the University of Minnesota. While difficult to read from afar, up close they seem to present a money-making opportunity to students.

After finding these posters, my research led to a broader issue that has become an almost expected part of the college experience. Students being strapped for cash is nothing new nor is the search for ways to solve their monetary problems. One of the most reputable places for finding opportunities on campus, monetarily or not, are bulletin boards. Job postings, bodily fluid donations, and searching for test subjects are just some of the posters providing opportunities to make money. There is, however, content on these boards that appears to have the aim of swindling students rather than providing them legitimate opportunities.

One of these illegitimate opportunities that is synonymous with preying on individuals in need of money is called a pyramid scheme. This type of system relies on recruitment and new members to pay money with the promise that they will be paid a larger return. Pyramid schemes are illegal, but the line of legality is often easily abused by companies that allow them to retain the pyramid framework with minor changes.

While each person may suffer different degrees of financial stress and how they deal with it may also differ, the frequency of this issue has left many vulnerable and exploitable. Students in need of money are especially at risk of falling victim to forms of financial exploitation, in the form of pyramid schemes, as their desperation is only compounded by the number of other stress factors inherent to college life. Desperation and mounting pressure lead anyone, not just students, in that position to ignore many of the red flags of a financial scheme. Considering this, the true nature behind these peculiar yellow posters, and content posted on bulletin boards, is called into question.

None of the posters were stapled to bulletin boards. To remain up, they acted as parasites wedged under other posters. Enough of the posters remain exposed to ensure they’re visible to anyone walking by. The boards occupied by these unusual pieces of paper are all outdoors, and extend from the edge of the West Bank well into the East Bank campus. After passing by them for weeks, I picked up a copy of the poster from the floor of the Washington Avenue Bridge to read it.  

Up close, there is an enticing nature about it. The phrase, “first come—first serve” and promises of large sums of money. After analyzing the poster, my copy is now a patchwork of notes, arrows, and question marks, all attempting to deduce its source.

The headline is an oddity all on its own. It reads “GOPHER TEAM BUILD,” but the word “GOPHER” is written in Sharpie over another word. The word that was originally printed there appears to be “LATINO.” The reasoning behind this choice is not clear.

At the bottom of the poster, there is a photocopy of a Florida man's driver’s license. All of the man's personal information is visible, but Sharpie was used over part of his face. A beard and sunglasses were drawn onto the man’s ID photo.

The name of the man is Jerome Frisco, but although his license is on the poster, it wasn’t clear if he was responsible for them. It would be odd for someone to spread this much personal information across a college campus.

Amongst the text on the front side is a simple instruction for readers to “email [their] name & number [to] machomanteam@.” Presuming that the source of the email address would also be the source of the poster, I decided it would be best to reach out and see who replied. Within a day I received a response that was signed “Jerome Frisco.” 

There’s no denying Frisco is behind the publication of the posters, but it’s not clear why he’d choose to post his licences all over campus. The back of the poster is more densely packed with text and possible explanations. A headline that promises “TOGETHER WE CAN BUILD A EMPIRE” leads right into “the start-up cost is $70” for an opportunity that hasn’t been made entirely clear. 

In the body of text below is, finally, an explanation of the poster’s money making opportunity. The opportunity is described as three “cycles” which, while there is little information on what they consist of, it is clear that they offer a handsome pay. “GenEntry,” “GenStart,” and “GenCycler” hold no information on what is required from the individual in their descriptions; however, the claim of getting “paid $10,000 over and over again” would be enough to attract anyone. There are similar figures appearing repeatedly in reference to the cycles and how much they can make an individual who engages in them. Unfortunately, what is required to get paid these amounts is absent from the poster.

A URL in small print leads to the company, not just the person, behind the posters… “Genusity.” Their member, Joe Frisco, may be behind the direct publication, but a look into Genusity’s website reveals they are more than a one man operation, they are a company. Questionable-looking products bombard their home screen making it difficult to look at anything without skepticism. The claims that go along with these products range from “helps with detoxification” to giving “your body 225% more energy.” 

Almost all of the products are supplements or other personal health products, but not one of their claims is certified to be true by the FDA. One product, the GenSilver Sea Moss capsules, claims to be “certified organic by the UDAF,” but this is the Utah Department of Agriculture and Food, making the certification invalid outside of Utah. 

Among the never-ending list of miracle claims, I made my way to the tab titled “Opportunity.” This is Genusity’s business model. The products touted on their website are indeed for sale, but mostly from the houses of members who have paid their “start-up cost.” Extensive levels of compensation are laid out for potential members on the page, with the amounts littered with asterisks and largely devoid of much explanation. A chance at a “One Million Dollar Bonus” is even up for grabs, and through recruiting new members, an existing member can increase their odds of receiving that astronomical bonus. The heavy incentives to recruit new members is a flagrant tactic heavily used by pyramid schemes.

The term may be familiar but the definition of a pyramid scheme may not be clear. South Dakota's Office of Attorney General states that pyramid schemes consist of members strictly recruiting new members to make money.

From their posters to their website, Genusity shows more than one thing in common with the business model known as a pyramid scheme. The company’s website, specifically the profile of co-founder Randy Thomas, rejects the term, and refers to Genusity as “one of the largest Network Marketing downline organizations in history.”

Network marketing, also known as multi-level marketing (MLM), often offers unrealistically high profits for returns and relies heavily on the recruitment of new members. Again referring to South Dakota’s Office of Attorney General, “The difference between a pyramid scheme and a lawful MLM program is that there is no real product that is sold in a pyramid scheme.” The presence of a product line, no matter how off-putting, is the legal distinction that allows companies, such as Genusity, to steer clear of being labeled a “pyramid scheme.”  

Treading water to meet the legal line would not make the opportunities that Genusity peddles legitimate. Thomas and his co-founder, Tim Sebert, have each had over twenty years of experience in this field, and they know how to use the laws and technicalities to their advantage. Their use of network marketing is one of many to evolve from an industry consisting of legally tiptoeing around the term pyramid schemes. A visit to Serbert’s social media page shows hundreds of Facebook videos in which he puts on his sales pitch. His used car salesman personality not only promotes products, but also recruits for Genusity. The heavy focus on recruiting new members, thrown into product promotional videos, is telling of the entire business model. 

All of this, though, leads back to a seemingly mundane poster, and its appearance on a college campus. The Genusity posters occupying these bulletin boards aren’t just the creation of Frisco; rather, they are a masked attempt to exploit a desperate student’s financial struggles. It appears that Sebert and Thomas have extended their business network to target desperate students. However, fear over Genusity’s appearance on campus should pale in comparison to the shocking reality that their business practices continue to be legal.