Practicing Restraint

by Rebecca Crichton

When I was young, I believed that I could trust much of what came into my life from my friends, my family, and the media in general.

Somewhere in the indoctrination process of becoming hooked on my phone and feeds, I began to question the motivation of the invitations to share my personal opinions and information. It took me time to recognize that some of those were, in fact, designed on the part of marketers, at the very least, and bad actors at the most. Their aim was to find out as much about me as possible.

My earliest memory of distrusting what I heard and saw on the then-new medium of TV was thanks to Ted Mack’s Original Amateur Hour, which aired between 1948 and 1970. The show featured acts that ranged from brilliant and hilarious to downright weird. The format urged the audience to call in with votes for who they thought should win.

When I was ten, I decided to register votes from my own household. I reported the choices of my sister, our babysitter, and myself. We liked different acts, and I felt proud that we could help those particular performers build their careers. Then it occurred to me that whoever took our call didn’t actually know how many people were in the room or how many people had actually voted for each contestant. I understood that the potential for lying was not just obvious but almost encouraged.

I’m pretty sure I didn’t experiment by reporting a party of twelve sharing their opinions, but I recognized that truth might not be the real goal. I felt unsettled by that realization and even more distressed by the recognition that I did not really know if the winner, as “voted on by the phone-in public and our live audience,” was really the winner.

My young mind grappled with the disturbing thought that perhaps I shouldn’t trust everything I saw or heard. I knew from the day-to-day experience in my personal life that truth was about convenience as much as about morality. But that didn’t upset me nearly as much as distrusting the oracle that TV had become during viewing hours. At the time, it wasn’t 24/7. Back in those days, the medium sent us to bed by midnight with the national anthem and its iconic test pattern.

That was then, as they say. Now, we are constantly bombarded from every platform you can think of. There is no end to it.

I don’t remember when I first heard about some of the current scams that are happening on social media and in our lives. The leap from unsolicited calls that are simply trying to sell us things to actively scamming and scheming to get our money and our data feels recent. AARP and other sources document how our older population is being actively targeted.

Gone are the days when I could open an invitation from a friend and be sure it wouldn’t turn into a virus. I no longer answer my phone if I don’t recognize the number.

In the past two weeks, I’ve fielded — and avoided — three different active scams. A “phone call” from BECU, my trusted bank, which I know doesn’t make phone calls. Of course, no voicemail was left. An alleged call from the Washington State Department of Licensing saying I had outstanding tickets and might be arrested proved to be a scam. Their official website warns consumers of the multitude of new scams purportedly from them. Then I got a text from the US Post Office about a package that required clicking on a link. I checked with the post office. Another scam.

More than ever before, I am learning to restrain myself from responding to anything that feels potentially questionable. It means truly acknowledging that there’s nothing I can do to confront whatever and whoever is phishing at that moment.

There are, of course, places to report scams. Banks have fraud lines. AARP has resources on how to avoid being scammed. All our computers have malware protection with multiple levels to protect us.

In the aging field, we encourage people to have as much agency as possible in the decisions they make in their lives. Often, that means being open to new experiences, welcoming new ideas, people, and information so that we stay engaged and continue to learn.

When it comes to scams, the new learning we need to incorporate and practice is the acknowledgement that we are not smart enough to outsmart them. Don’t think you can engage with what is a giant global business and come away unscathed. I’m redefining what it means to just say no. Accept the limits of what you can do. Don’t take the bait. Manage the uncomfortable feelings.

I almost called this essay A Scam a Day Keeps the Peace Away… During these times when we know we are targets for fraud, a healthy slice of paranoia might well be what’s needed. I hope this article from The New York Times, which a friend shared with me, will be illuminating and helpful.

There is a way to get relief from the barrage that comes at us all the time. Turn off our devices.