Columbia Fires Two Over Epstein-Linked Dental-College Gatekeeping
In academia's root canal of prestige, favors pass as prerequisites and ethics get a plaque.
Gentrification Symptoms & Pretend-Creative Economy Reporter
On Monday morning, as headlines about US university administrators allegedly greasing a path into dental school for a well-connected applicant ricocheted through Berlin group chats, Dr. Levent Öztürk—a dentist with a small practice just off Müllerstraße—stood behind his reception desk and watched his waiting room turn into a morality tribunal.
Levent wanted one thing: a new dental assistant. His current assistant had quit after being asked to “smile more” by a man whose entire personality was a whitening strip. Levent put up a simple ad in the window: Training available. German preferred. No drama. In Wedding, that counts as performance art.
The triggering incident came around late morning, when Saskia Mertens, a freshly arrived expat with a tote bag full of ethical certainty, marched in and asked if Levent would “commit to transparent admissions standards” for the assistant role—because she’d read about the American dental-school scandal and “couldn’t unsee the systemic rot.”
“Ma’am,” Levent said, gripping his pen like it owed him money, “this is a clinic, not a TED Talk.”
By early afternoon, the situation escalated. A self-appointed neighborhood academic, Jonas Klee, proposed a “community oversight panel” in the café nearby—because nothing says public accountability like six people who’ve never brushed after espresso deciding who deserves proximity to power.
The panel’s first demand: applicants submit not just a CV, but a “character portfolio” including volunteer work, references, and a short essay on dentistry as social justice. Someone invoked Foucault, as if a molar ever consented to being surveilled.
Then the turning point: Jonas produced a rumor—delivered with the smug delicacy of someone sliding an envelope under a door—that Levent’s cousin “might know someone” at a training program. Suddenly the room got very quiet, the way it does right before people pretend they’ve always believed in backdoor arrangements.
By evening, Levent did what any weary professional does in a city that confuses virtue with branding: he posted a second sign.
Hiring is first-come, first-served. No committees. No essays. If you want to probe my integrity, book an appointment.
Saskia called it “problematic.” Jonas called it “anti-democratic.” The longtime Turkish regulars just nodded, paid in cash, and left with clean teeth—proof that in Wedding, the only meritocracy anyone truly trusts is the one that hurts a little and still works.