A fraudster is transactional, disappearing after the scam. A charlatan, however, builds lasting, manipulative relationships, embedding themselves into a victim's social world until the victims become their most fervent defenders.
The absurd plots and bad grammar in phishing emails are a feature, not a bug. They efficiently screen out discerning individuals, ensuring that scammers only waste their time interacting with the recipients most likely to fall for the con from the outset.
Deceivers hijack our trust in precision by attaching specific numbers (e.g., "13.5% of customers") to their claims. This gives a "patina of rigor and understanding," making us less likely to question the source or validity of the information itself, even if the number is arbitrary.
Scammers don't persuade you to believe new things; they exploit your existing, deeply-held beliefs. The intensity of your commitment to an idea makes you vulnerable, as they gain trust simply by championing what you already hold true. This means everyone is a potential target.
We are cognitively wired with a "truth bias," causing us to automatically assume that what we see and hear is true. We only engage in skeptical checking later, if at all. Scammers exploit this default state, ensnaring us before our slower, more deliberate thinking can kick in.
The band's rider demanding M&Ms with the brown ones removed wasn't diva behavior; it was an automatic trustworthiness check. If this simple, low-stakes task was ignored, they knew the venue wasn't detail-oriented enough to handle complex and high-stakes technical and safety requirements.