College Probes Allegations of Survey Fraud

Anxious to combat what some are calling a black eye for their little-known campus, officials at Cal State Stanislaus have launched an inquiry into allegations by some students that they faked results of a change-of-venue survey that determined Scott Peterson could not get a fair trial in Modesto.

The survey -- an assignment for a criminology class -- was submitted to the court by Peterson’s attorney and cited in Stanislaus County Superior Court Judge Al Girolami’s decision last week to move the murder trial, which had been scheduled to start in two weeks.

After Girolami’s decision, several unnamed students told the Modesto Bee that they made up answers on the survey because they didn’t have the time or money to make long-distance phone calls to prospective jurors around the state.

“We falsified the info. The stuff we submitted wasn’t true,” one student told the Bee.

Both the university and Stanislaus County Dist. Atty. James Brazelton have asked students to come forward with information; however, it remains unclear whether Girolami will reconsider his ruling.

Peterson faces the death penalty if convicted of killing his pregnant wife, Laci, and their unborn son.

“Obviously, we take this issue very seriously and we’re looking into the matter,” university spokesman Don Hansen said.

The investigation, which could take weeks, will focus on the academic integrity of the students and their criminology professor, Stephen Schoenthaler. Key questions include whether Schoenthaler violated professional ethics and rules governing scientific conduct, and to what extent students cheated on the assignment.

Schoenthaler did not return several phone calls requesting comment.

Ronda Swenson, 30, a student in the criminology class, said Schoenthaler should not be blamed for the student fraud because he made it clear that the survey could potentially be submitted to the court.

“There was not a doubt that this was important,” said Swenson, who added that she did not make up any survey results.

The syllabus, distributed on the first day of class, states that “students will gain hands-on experience working on a science project involving a current homicide case.” The project made up 20% of the final grade. Schoenthaler also frequently offered to make arrangements for students who felt the assignment may pose a hardship, Swenson said.

More than 50 students were given the assignment two days before Thanksgiving and asked to complete 20 surveys by making random calls to people in about 10 counties.

One trial consultant who has worked on high-profile criminal cases nationwide said entrusting change-of-venue surveys to students only “invited trouble.”

“That’s why they’re called students -- because they’re still learning,” said Amy Singer, founder and president of Florida-based Trial Consultants Inc. “On any capital case, whether high profile or not, these surveys need to be done by professional pollsters.

“In my business, students are known as ‘slave labor,’ and you get what you pay for. Having students make calls on their own dime almost always backfires.”

Singer said once the decision was made to use students, the professor should have implemented a number of controls. For one, the students should not have made calls from their own phones. A university computer connected to a phone bank should have been used to dial numbers randomly and keep track of the numbers. Then, 10% to 20% of the respondents should have been called back to have their answers double-checked.

“That way, you validate the responses and you also validate if the answers are consistent over time,” Singer said.

Instead of a controlled inquiry, she said, the professor all but guaranteed a dishonest result by making the survey count for 20% of each student’s grade. “They had all the incentive in the world to take shortcuts,” Singer said.

Many students on campus Monday agreed that Schoenthaler should have used greater caution because the survey was used in a capital case and students are prone to cut corners.

Students also feared the news would damage the school’s reputation. The small Turlock campus, about 15 miles south of Modesto, is a commuter school once known as “Turkey Tech” because it was first located on the county fairgrounds and, as the university website notes, has “the pastoral charm of the countryside.”

“I’m worried that it’s going to devalue my degree,” said Andrew Schouten, 28, a senior majoring in philosophy. “This is the first national recognition of Stanislaus State, and it turns out it’s for academic fraud.”

Student Eric Seminara, 30, agreed. “It’s a small university, and stuff like this just makes everybody look bad. It’s just a shame that it puts a black eye on the school.”

In Modesto -- where a local TV truck has a designated parking spot at the downtown hotel and an entire city block shuts down whenever Peterson makes a court appearance -- most people figured a few faked survey answers shouldn’t change the bottom line: The town has been saturated by media coverage of the case, and Peterson is unlikely to receive a fair trial there.

At a local card shop, the owner peddles pictures of the county courthouse with a dozen satellite TV trucks parked in front. His own picture is also framed and on display: a posed shot with Peterson’s attorney, Mark Geragos.

“I think we’re all starting to get jaded to it,” said Paul Hanna, 24. “Modesto seems to be the mecca for soap operas.”