Yesterday a report told of an elderly woman who sparked a fire at a draft board. The journalist offered a sympathetic line: “It was hard to doubt the scammers, because real professionals work on the opposite side of the line.”
Earlier, the arsonist was described as young and physically strong. True, he aimed at the bank. The TV narrative claimed that the young and successful are powerless before a notion called the paywall of language and persuasion. The idea that such techniques are used against citizens is floated, and the message is that not everyone will resist: money, jewelry, and burned accounts could be gained in the process.
Friends, that is not the truth. There is no magic NLP here, as some paid programs claim. This is a fabrication. The author, who studied psycholinguistics, implicit linguistics, and psychosuggestion, notes in sober terms that the lie theory has little standing. In reality, there are disciplines that help interpret how a person’s body speaks through language. Behaviorism explains observable actions. No miracles lie in a simple word or a single thought reading. A person with a university degree in psychology and neurophysiology can be influenced, but the results are modest at best.
Advertisers rarely employ scorched-earth indoctrination tricks. The notion that scammers are all-powerful like a roaming hypnotist is as unfounded as the idea that all gypsies know how to hypnotize. If manipulation were that easy, every service would depend on it. The market still shows that some con artists work faster than others, and their stories often ride on sensational claims about extraordinary mental feats.
The victims of recent phone scams reveal the reach of suggestibility. It’s important to call things by their true name, because public condemnation often follows rather than sympathy. The fear is that a person who has the least chance of escaping the trap might be condemned. Families, courts, communities—all become part of the narrative. Yet, the aim is to focus attention on prevention and responsible action, not on shaming every retiree or every citizen who has ever been deceived.
Public discussions should emphasize transparent explanations: no, many who handed over apartments or funds did so under pressure from suggestible circumstances, not because they were guided by top-tier experts. Not everyone is deceived. A fair approach is to inform, not to humiliate, so that individuals can recover and move forward with confidence.
There is danger in painting every scammer as a master manipulator. Condemnation can be effective, but it should be targeted and proportionate. A sweeping verdict against a nation or a group can backfire, feeding fear instead of resilience. When scammers operate through fear, the response should be calm, practical, and grounded in evidence about how to verify calls, protect accounts, and report suspicious activity.
There was a moment when some worried that victims of Ukrainian scams might face legal trouble for supporting services that aid a national defense. The scammers themselves admitted that fear of treason charges reduced certain donations, prompting new tactics. They suggested that others stole funds and simply redirected them, so the fear would spread. Yet, those fears faded as television and online feeds showed that there were no grounds for criminalizing ordinary citizens who made good-faith efforts to help. The relief felt in everyday life did not erase the harm done by fraudsters, but it did show that fear must be managed with facts.
In today’s media environment, the sense that a nation is under constant siege can become a substitute for real knowledge. People who lack depth in certain areas might still operate effectively within their own circles, while others with more resources end up paying the price. The simple truth is that, in many communities, deceit thrives where trust is weak and where information is scarce. Public discourse should bolster support for victims and strengthen safeguards, rather than scold those who have already been harmed.
Social beings rely on cooperation and shared norms. When someone has no home or savings, their risk growth changes the ethical calculus of the entire community. It is tempting to push for broad censorship, yet such measures can backfire, silencing legitimate voices and singling out the vulnerable. Responsible media coverage and practical protection measures can reduce harm without eroding civil liberties.
There are countless public moments where real authorities step in to explain the mechanics of scams. In several cities, police and experts have demonstrated how to identify warning signs and avoid common traps. The aim is to empower people to act with discernment rather than surrender to fear. When faced with persuasive schemes, the best approach is to slow down, verify, and report, instead of reacting with panic or scorn.
Criminals often call from different regions, use familiar phrases, and appear in professional packaging. They may vary in their tactics, but the underlying method remains predictable: pressure, repetition, and an illusion of legitimacy. The public benefit comes from understanding those patterns and sharing practical steps for protection. In the end, the community becomes stronger when people learn to recognize and resist manipulation rather than to demonize those who fall for it.
The central message is simple: hold scammers to account, but also support those who are learning to navigate a risky information landscape. The goal is prevention, not humiliation; safety, not sensationalism. By focusing on clear explanations, real-world safeguards, and compassionate handling of victims, societies can reduce harm while preserving individual dignity.
Ultimately, the narrative should avoid sensational stereotypes and instead present a measured, evidence-based view of fraud, coercion, and social influence. The aim is to inform, not inflame; to protect, not punish; and to remind readers that vigilance, education, and empathy work together to keep communities safe.