How this 'Truman Show' moment may unravel NAR's settlement
- Summer Goralik
- 5 days ago
- 7 min read
Updated: 7 hours ago
By Summer Goralik
This article was originally published by Inman News on May 28, 2025 and can be read here.

I’d been waiting for it — refreshing the docket more often than I care to admit. When Professor Tanya Monestier’s appeal brief finally dropped, challenging the court’s approval of the National Association of Realtors’ $418 million settlement, I opened it immediately.
Despite being exhausted and juggling more deadlines than I’d like to admit, I started reading this monster of a brief after 10 p.m. I didn’t even need coffee to stay focused. That’s a rarity when diving into dense legal writing after hours. Once I got going, I couldn’t put it down.
This wasn’t legal commentary. It read like a novel, with the kind of twist that changes everything. One moment, I was in a world where the biggest real estate settlement in modern history had been finalized. The next, I was staring at a legal reality that might not exist at all.
Reading Monestier’s argument felt like watching The Truman Show’s final scene, when Truman sails to the edge of the horizon, crashes into a wall and realizes everything around him has been a carefully controlled illusion.
“We accept the reality of the world with which we’re presented,” says Christof, the show’s omnipotent director.
That’s exactly what the real estate industry did and even many of its critics. We accepted the reality of the NAR settlement, believing it was valid, final and fair. But Monestier handed us a legal hammer and said: Tap that wall. And when you do, you’ll see the foundation might not just be cracked. It might be imaginary.
Optimist or idiot?
OK, I’ll admit it. Last November, I thought the court might actually reject the settlement or at least send it back for serious modification.
Not just because of the Department of Justice’s last-minute Statement of Interest, which flagged clear antitrust concerns, but because of the objections. Monestier’s, in particular, cut to the heart of class action fairness: The lack of meaningful injunctive relief, the workarounds already underway by some Realtors, the disproportionate attorney fees and the insultingly low payouts to harmed sellers.
Her filing was detailed, methodical and meticulously cited, supported by evidence showing how the supposed reforms were being undermined even before they took effect. I truly thought her objection might make a difference.
I was one of the optimists, one of the people who thought: Maybe this is the moment the system will actually pause and take a harder look. Between the objections and the DOJ’s Statement of Interest, it felt like there were serious issues worth addressing.
Was this finally one of those rare instances where the outcome might reflect reality? A moment when the court would pause, take a harder look and demand real changes before ushering in a new era of rules.
But that hope gave way to acceptance. The settlement was approved. The story moved on. And I, like so many others, moved on with it.
That is, until I read Monestier’s appeal.
Suddenly, the question of justice wasn’t settled. It was unsettled all over again. Her account didn’t just challenge the terms of the deal. It challenged the process itself.
Roll credits? Not quite. Turns out we were only halfway through the movie
Notably, Monestier describes how objectors were sidelined — and how the court instructed plaintiffs to ghostwrite the final approval order before the fairness hearing even occurred. (I’m still shaking my head at this one.)
She also explains how objections were struck not on the merits, but because most objectors, including Monestier herself, couldn’t travel across the country just to be heard, despite a court notice that said showing up wasn’t required.
If her account is accurate, justice wasn’t served. It almost feels staged.
And perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised. After all, I’ve spent years watching real estate fraud cases unfold. I’ve seen bad actors slip through the cracks while their victims are left picking up the pieces. I’ve had my belief in the system tested and defeated before.
But this one exposed something deeper: how quickly procedure can overpower principle when no one slows down to ask the right questions.
The legal foundation nobody checked
Although I’m not an attorney, here’s the legal crux that floored me: Monestier argues the entire settlement rests on injunctive relief that the plaintiffs didn’t even have standing to seek.
In plain terms, these were past sellers. They’re not at risk of being harmed again. There’s no concrete allegation that they’ll sell another home anytime soon, let alone use a broker — or more specifically, a Realtor.
What Monestier’s brief makes crystal clear is this: You can’t settle a claim for future harm unless the plaintiffs are actually likely to face that harm. That’s basic constitutional law. Article III requires it.
So how did this get approved?
How did millions of dollars change hands, how did sweeping headlines declare victory, and how did no one stop to ask the one question that could unravel the whole thing?
Pennies for pain
And then there’s the money.
According to Monestier’s analysis, the average payout for harmed sellers is roughly $16 to $17. Not enough to buy a pizza, as she memorably puts it. Maybe enough for a mediocre sandwich.
Meanwhile, plaintiffs’ counsel received $333 million in fees. That’s not a typo.
I’d seen this disparity before. The math has been floating around for months. I remember nearly choking on my cannoli (for real) while crunching the numbers the first time. And Monestier’s brief once again puts the whole picture into perspective. The class members, the actual sellers whose transactions gave rise to this case, received barely a fraction of what they lost. In some instances, as little as a 10th of a penny on the dollar.
What’s more, the core conduct at the center of the litigation wasn’t even prohibited. Sellers can still pay buyer-broker compensation. In fact, brokers can still engage in broker-to-broker compensation. These practices weren’t banned. They were simply moved off the MLS and into the shadows, where — let’s be honest — enforcement is murky.
2 truths and a shaky foundation
I won’t pretend the settlement didn’t bring some progress. The decoupling of commissions? That’s a step toward a more consumer-centric model, and one I support. But I’d be lying if I said the outcome was perfect or that it fully addressed the underlying issues that can’t be denied.
Sellers are still footing the bill for buyer-broker compensation, just through different channels. Buyers, meanwhile, are being handed agreements to sign, sometimes within seconds of meeting their agents. The incentives may be rearranged, but the power dynamics haven’t exactly been reset. There’s good and bad here, just like in any solution that tries to resolve two different sides of a lawsuit or a deeply divided story.
And I’ll be honest: The idea of unwinding the settlement scares me a little. The industry is already struggling to adapt. Reopening everything could create more chaos, more uncertainty. And it’s not just this case. There are other related settlements that still haven’t received final court approval. If Monestier’s appeal gains traction, it will have ripple effects far beyond Sitzer | Burnett.
But listen, fear of disruption isn’t a valid reason to ignore an appeal that raises serious questions. It’s not just about fairness. It’s about legality itself. What Monestier’s appeal forces us to confront is a deeper, more uncomfortable truth: What if this wasn’t just an imperfect deal? What if it never had a solid legal foundation in the first place?
If her arguments are correct, the settlement doesn’t just deserve criticism. It may not survive scrutiny. That’s not a technicality. That’s a collapse.
We can’t afford to build trust on top of shortcuts. Justice isn’t a speed run. And landmark settlements — especially the kind that promise reform across an entire industry — can’t rely on shaky standing, procedural sleight of hand or ghostwritten rulings. Not if we expect them to hold real value.
So, where do we go from here?
Don’t look at me. I have no clue. Perhaps you’ll turn to Rob Hahn, who — right on schedule — just delivered a lengthy post breaking it all down. The title says it all: “It Ain’t Over Till It’s Over: Analysis of Monestier’s 8th Circuit Brief.” Among many, one particularly memorable takeaway is worth quoting: “Tanya Monestier, an individual law prof, not a giant law firm with hundreds of lawyers, might singlehandedly plunge the industry back into chaos with this appeal.”
That said, I do know this: If you felt something was off, if you sensed the objections raised by Monestier or the concerns flagged by the DOJ were treated more like noise than legal red flags, you’re not alone.
Oh, and if you haven’t read Monestier’s appeal yet? You should.
Just don’t be surprised when you hit the wall and realize the horizon was never real. Because once you see the construct for what it truly is, the only thing left to do is step through the door.
And, as Truman says with a smile before leaving the illusion behind: “In case I don’t see ya, good afternoon, good evening and good night.”
Editor’s note: This story was updated with a quote from Rob Hahn.
NOTE: The opinions, suggestions, and recommendations contained in this discussion are based on Summer Goralik’s experience working for the California Department of Real Estate and as a real estate compliance consultant. They should not be considered legal advice or relied upon as such. You should consult with your brokerage and/or appropriate legal counsel in your jurisdiction for further clarification.
About the Author

Summer Goralik is a Real Estate Compliance Consultant and licensed Real Estate Broker (#02022805). Summer offers real estate brokers a variety of consulting services including assistance with California Department of Real Estate investigations and audit preparation, mock audits, brokerage compliance guidance, advertising review, and training. She helps licensees evaluate their regulatory compliance and correct any non-compliant activities. Summer has an extensive background in real estate which includes private sector, regulatory and law enforcement experience. Prior to opening her consulting business in 2016, she worked for the Orange County District Attorney's Office as a Civilian Economic Crimes Investigator in their Real Estate Fraud Unit. Before that, Summer was employed as a Special Investigator for the DRE for six years. Among many achievements, she wrote several articles for the DRE, four of which were co-authored with former Real Estate Commissioner Wayne Bell. Prior to her career in government and law enforcement, Summer also worked in the escrow industry for nearly five years. For more information about Summer's background and services, please visit her website.