The Prince is Back
This may be my last column for a while as it seems I’m off to prison. An alarming missive has landed in my in-box from POLICE HEADQUARTERS, headed CRIMINAL POLICE REPORT. Luckily, a detailed explanation is attached, and I’ve been given 48 hours to respond.
Scams have certainly moved on from the infamous Nigerian Prince, the cliché classic foot-in-the-door hoax named for the country it originates from. It began as newspaper ads before the internet, an appeal from a certain Prince Bil Morrison, of noble birth and hailing from the far reaches of Nigeria. All he wanted was some American pen pals. The original ad’s wording was so moving, the papers published his mailing list free of charge, desperate to connect the poor prince with some eager correspondents. Then he made a simple request – could his new buddies send him a mere four dollars and an old pair of pants they no longer needed? In return they were guaranteed ivory, diamonds and emeralds, which were worthless to him compared to his new priceless friendships. The riches never eventuated, to everyone’s surprise, and the scam was traced to a fourteen-year-old boy in the States. No-one was sure why he needed the pants, but they poured in, along with a lot of money.
The digital age is gold for all manner of scams, from phishing to identity theft, investment scams to hacking. Mention of mainstream businesses nearly everyone uses, such as banks or toll payments, lend enough weight to make you look twice. They’re so sophisticated these days, they even replicate the identical message your bank sends you, and – here’s the kicker – from the same no-reply address.
A quick audit of my phone and inbox throws up several more contenders. Evidently I made a payment via PayPal to somewhere for $1789, but if this was not me, I should reach out via this link. This reverse psychology often bears fruit – no, I don’t want to give you money, but wait, if money’s been taken already then I need to check it out. Spare a thought for the poor Sydney couple who were recently robbed of $100,000 in less than two hours, thinking they were rectifying fraudulent payments. The one-time passwords they were sent to cancel the unauthorised transactions were actually sanctioning offshore purchases.
The ACCC’s ‘Scamwatch’ site reveals Australians were scammed out of over five hundred million dollars in 2022 – yes you read that right. Text messages are head and shoulders the highest number of reports. Scam red flags to watch out for include requests for account or personal details via email. If you’re on the phone, any sense of the person rushing you or instilling a sense of urgency (‘you need to fix it now before it gets worse!’) never will happen from a legitimate financial institution.
The most successful are the ones that catch you in an unguarded moment – either tugging at your heart strings and establishing trust, or when you’re rushing to catch a plane with no internet access. The latest wave of text spams is smart. I’ve had several ‘Mum I’ve lost my phone, please send a message to this number.’ I fell for the first one, simply by replying ‘what’s your name?’, to which I was told ‘your oldest child.’ (Bawdy derision from both my children - you DIDN’T reply did you???????) Once the scammers discover an Achilles heel that’s it.
Closer inspection of my Police HQ email reveals the sender’s address to be combinations of the words ‘federal’ and ‘police,’ from a Gmail address. I don’t know what will happen if I open the attachment – maybe there’ll just be simple details where I can settle up and make my criminal report go away quietly. I’m sure actual criminals would jump at the chance to pay a fine and clear their record, though you may not get the Nigerian Prince falling for it any time soon.