Analysis: when you unpack the colourful history of scammers, does our obsession say more about us than them?
It is believed the word "confidence man" originated from the tale of William Thompson. In the 1840s, Thompson would approach strangers in New York and start a conversation. He would then ask if they had "confidence" in his character before swindling them. Sadly, many people did. His scheme gave birth to the infamous term we still see in our Netflix recommendations today.
While we think this is the golden era of scammer content, with docu series galore - the RTE Documentary On One podcast Finding Samantha has reached over 100 countries in a matter of weeks - and is fast approaching a million streams - it is not a new phenomenon. The trickster narrative has been trending since time began, just ask the ancient Greeks and Romans.
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From RTÉ Doc On One, first episode of Finding Samantha
So why are we so obsessed with these stories? Is it morbid curiosity, collective fear or does capitalist society secretly love a con artist? To get to grips with our fascination, let's unpack the history of scammers and whether our obsession says more about us than them.
In 1817, a beautiful woman appeared in Almondsbury, England speaking in a foreign tongue. Nobody knew where she came from, but word spread that she was a lost princess known as Caraboo. Soon, affluent spectators came from far and wide to take a crack at communicating with this beguiling figure. Her name was Mary Baker, and she grew up 80 miles away.
Professor Margaret Russett from the University of Southern California, is an expert on the Caraboo Hoax. "She came from sort of a desperately dirt poor family in a village in Devonshire", she says of Baker. When her benefactors realised her deception, they didn't disown her but paid for her passage to America.
From Let Me Know, the story of the Caraboo Hoax and how an exotic 19th century woman tricked a town into believing she was a kidnapped princess
"All good cons I think involve appealing to their audiences' own fantasies, you know their own desires. Their sort of aspirational senses of themselves. How would I like to think of myself? I'd like to think of myself as the hostess of a benighted princess," says Russett. Baker's story reached the US before she did it and sparked news articles and a group of spectators ready to meet the princess's ship. "It’s a story of a self-made person who leverages representations in order to achieve actual social mobility".
But what is it that continues to draw us to these twisted tales? Professor David Schmid from the University at Buffalo thinks we might not view fraudsters as regular criminals. "Well, I think part of it is because many people perceive fraud or being conned, as a victimless crime, which, of course, it’s not. But I think that the con artist is a romanticised figure and has been for a long time." He says society's outlook on cons can often lead to a culture of victim blaming. How often do we say: I would never fall for that.
Deception researcher Dr. Timothy Levine from the University of Alabama at Birmingham thinks there's an element of catharsis attached to watching people get duped. Most people radically overestimate their ability to detect deception, so cons become feel-good stories for those not being scammed. "It’s a comparison thing - Oh look at these fools; don’t I get to feel superior. So, that’s I think what the real appeal of them is. This actually kind of cringy superiority we get to feel when we encounter other easy dupes."
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From RTÉ Doc On One, second episode of Finding Samantha
Professor Vanessa Bohns from Cornell University and author of You Have More Influence Than You Think takes a slightly more positive stance. "One reason we're drawn to these stories is that they are so shocking, which I actually think says something reassuring about people and society. Most of the time we can and do believe the things people tell us. We don’t default to assuming other people are lying to us, and most of the time that’s a safe and effective way to go through life." She explains that when that trust is significantly breached, we find it so surprising and unusual that we can’t look away.
Tori Telfer, author of Confident Women: Swindlers, Grifters, and Shapeshifters of the Feminine Persuasion, agrees that society is always drawn to the story of a "female gone wrong", but she was taken aback by the recent media coverage of Elizabeth Holmes and Anna Delvey. "There were plenty of think pieces: Con Women, WHAT! Like what's going on? And it was like, I never saw any historical precedent being referenced, like Cassie Chadwick, like a perfect parallel to Anna Delvey, but there wasn’t a lot of that because they don’t become household names like Bernie Madoff, Charles Ponzi, Frank Abagnale…"
Chadwick was on the front page of every American newspaper in 1904 after she hoodwinked bankers by claiming to be the illegitimate daughter of steel mogul Andrew Carnegie. "They may have been not pretending to be a banker or a surgeon or whatever, instead pretending to be like a rich wife, but that didn’t mean that they weren’t swindling large amounts of money, or you know really wrecking lives just as much as the guys were!" Samantha Azzopardi, the subject of Finding Samantha, managed to adopt 100 different aliases and scam governments out of hundreds of thousands of euros, all by pretending to be a lost child.
From Vanity Fair, how Anna Delvey (allegedly) scammed New York's richest socialites
Technology has come a long way since the 19th century. Social media and dating apps have made it easier than ever to create a faux persona. If you've heard Finding Samantha, you’ll know all about this. Levine mentions radio pioneer Dr John Romulus Brinkley (1885-1942), who built and owned a radio station where he tried to convince impotent men that a goat testicle transplant would cure them. He was one of the first people to use broadcast media to promote and build a personal brand. "The second mass media appears, scammers are jumping into it".
Who amongst us doesn't lie when convenient? You tell your mother you love that dress, your boss you can meet that deadline, your date you like that band. Do con artists just take a universally accepted habit and make it into a career?
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From RTÉ Doc On One, final episode of Finding Samantha
For Schmid, it all comes back to the idea that nobody wants to hear or think about: "This perception that you know, it’s all a con anyway, so why not just be honest about it and go for it?" Bankers before the financial crash gave people mortgages they couldn’t afford; is that so different to Elizabeth Holmes and the Theranos scandal? "So it’s almost like to me the admiration comes partly from well at least they’re honest about it. At least they’re not even pretending to be legitimate."
The views expressed here are those of the author and do not represent or reflect the views of RTÉ
