It has been a bad news year for the college admissions industry.

In March, the federal government unveiled its Varsity Blues investigation, which by now hardly needs an introduction. The affidavit in the case reads like a crime thriller crossed with a comedy of manners. Rich parents staged photos of their children to make them look like water polo players. They had their children’s SAT bubble sheets corrected by a corrupt proctor. And they conspired with the consultant at the center of the case, William Singer, to evade the efforts of school counselors to fact-check applications.

The ludicrous details set off a race among reporters to do what we in the journalism business call “folos,” or analytical pieces that illuminate the trends behind big news events. (The word “folo” is a deliberate misspelling of “follow.”)

Our latest folo, published earlier this week, was about one of the more sensitive processes exploited by Mr. Singer and his clients: the one in which students with disabilities are allowed extended time to take tests like the ACT and SAT, often after psychologists diagnose conditions like anxiety and attention-deficit hyperactivity disorder.

I am an education reporter on the National desk, and I began the reporting several months ago by speaking to high school counselors who were eager to vent about what they called “diagnosis shopping.” A growing number of affluent parents, they said, were paying up to $10,000 for disability evaluations not covered by insurance. Often, their children were enrolled in advanced classes but were not earning high grades.