"There are some frauds so well conducted that it would be stupidity not to be deceived by them."
- English cleric and writer Charles Caleb Colton (1780-1832)
"Kind Madam: My name is Prince Oku Banutu and I seek your beloved assistance. My father, the deposed Finance Minister of Nigeria -"
- Text of an email scam "Old age is no place for sissies."
- American actor Bette Davis (1908-1989)
You said a mouthful, Ms. Davis - especially in light of a study to come out of the University of Iowa last month.
Researchers there found that as people grow older, many suffer deterioration in an area of the brain called the ventromedial prefrontal cortex. That's where the human capacity for doubt lives.
"As you normally age, this is the first thing to go," reported neuroscientist Erik Asp, who led the study. "These are vulnerable populations."
Vulnerable populations. That's you and me he's talking about - and that hurts. And there's more bad news. As our ability to be discerning weakens, we're also more likely to be sucked in to buying "legitimate" products, no matter how iffy they are. Think every two-bit K-Tel-type product "as seen on TV." Our "caregivers," Mr. Asp asserts, should be on the lookout every step of the way for scam artists and shady advertisers who target us. He's even calling on the ad industry to develop stricter standards as a means of protecting us.
Not every fraudster is "Nigerian," by the way. There are plenty of the homegrown variety. In fact, as far back as the late 19th century, Canadian Thomas (Doc) Kelley was perfecting techniques for relieving folks of their money. Kelley was a patent-medicine man from Leeds County, Ont., who travelled across North America with his revivalstyle dog-and-pony circus between 1895 and 1931. The show and his medical "expertise" were free; his medicines were not. But he had a talent for self-promotion and a knack for whipping a dour and flinty crowd into a froth of goodwill, blind trust and serotonin.
At any rate, much as we hate to admit it, our sittingduck status shouldn't come as a surprise. The anecdotal evidence has been amassing for some time. The Canadian Anti-fraud Centre reports that people in their 60s are the nation's most susceptible demographic when it comes to "mass marketing fraud."
So the hard data just supports the notion that those of us who are gullible by nature will probably get even more so with age. Eventually, we'll be gleefully dispatching money to Prince Banutu of Nigeria. Or putting up the bread necessary to collect the 640 million pounds we won in that U.K. lottery we never entered. Or sending money to our nephews in Montreal to bail them out of jams. And the slap-chop device, or the blanket with arms that looks like a shroud? Bring out the credit card!
Aren't there enough indignities associated with growing older? Did we really need this added insult? Are even lifelong doubters, who, for years, honed their excrement detectors with pride, likely to become meek and silly chumps for every snake-oil salesman in their midst?
On the other hand, perhaps we ought to approach this new study with healthy skepticism - while we still have the brains to do so. Increasingly, biologists, geneticists and neurologists are finding that our systems are intricate and interconnected - and that it's limiting to look at each of our functions discretely. We are the sum total of our experiences as well as our body parts. Possibly, then, we might just be able to count on wisdom to kick in before we open our wallets.
It pays to be vigilant, of course. No one wants to be a mark or a dupe or a sap.
Regardless of age, it's always wise to read the fine print, demand verification and to check ID. But who wants to add the fear of being burned to all the other limitations those with good intentions seem to want to impose on us?
As for Doc Kelly, it's reassuring to note that he plied his trade when people rarely lived past 50.
Presumably, their ventromedial prefrontal cortices were still intact. And they were conned all the same. What did those whippersnappers know?
