Kevin Brown: Thnk b4 u txt
FT Your Money; Feb 06, 2004
Trapped on a stranded commuter train one night, I killed some time by
sratching the silver foil from one of those competition scratchcards
that are forever falling out of newspapers. The card promised winners a
prize of �250,000, or a dream home, invitingly pictured in all its
thatched and rose-trellised glory.
With nothing better to do, I scratched off the silver foil from the
two games on the front of one of the cards, and found that I had won
both. "Double congratulations!" said the text under the foil.
"You're definitely entitled to two rewards (see over)." In
addition to the top prize, these were �10,000 in cash, �5,200 in
groceries, a �5,000 kitchen, a �2,000 garden makeover, �1,000 in
travel vouchers, a �750 shopping spree, a �300 trip to Venice, or
�250 cash.
Falling for the promise of something for nothing is a pretty basic
human weakness. And lets face it, I'm as basic as they come. So I'd
already spent at least �250 in my head when I noticed something
strange. Still trapped on my train, I scratched the foil from half a
dozen identical cards and found that they all sported the same six
winning symbols - three hearts and three gift wrapped packages.
Curiosity aroused, I started to collect similar scratchcard
competitions, and found that this is the standard pattern. They all, it
seems, work on the basis that every card is a winner. But if every
entrant wins a valuable prize, how do these competitions pay for
themselves?
There are several answers to this question. The first is that to find
out which prize you've won you have to call a premium rate telephone
number - the ones that begin with 090. These charge at least �1.50 a
minute, and callers are forced to listen to large amounts of marketing
nonsense before they are told which prize they have won. I called seven,
and the bills varied between �3.50 and �10.50. To put it in context,
fewer than 42,000 calls are needed to pay for the top prize in the dream
house competition.
The second answer is that the prizes are sometimes rather less
enticing than the promotions suggest. Travel vouchers rarely pay for a
whole holiday - they have to be used to offset the cost of a package
from a specific provider. Often, there are restrictions on travel dates
and accommodation, extras to pay for, and you probably wont be able to
take your spouse or family. Instead of the dream home, for example, I
won a trip to Venice for one (buy your own lunch and dinner), and
�1,000 of travel vouchers redeemable against holidays I don't want.
The third answer is that hardware prizes will often be outdated or
obsolete models, and there may be hidden conditions. Chasing �125,000
cash in another competition, I won "his and hers mountain
bikes" - subject to �99 plus VAT for compulsory theft insurance,
parts warranty and delivery charge. An acquantaince who rang one of
these numbers won a second-hand desktop computer with a measly four
gigabyte hard disk running at 300Mhz (for technophobes, that's very
slow). To add insult to injury, the computer was offered without an
operating system - outdated Windows 98 software could be bought for an
extra �65 - and the deal was contingent on paying �116 for a warranty.
The really stupid could upgrade to a second hand laptop for �380, or an
outmoded new desktop with a second hand monitor for �500.
This kind of thing is pretty small beer, though, compared with
voicemail or SMS text messages left on mobile telephones. These
encourage recipients to call either an 090 number to collect a cash
prize, usually said to have been won in a random draw of mobile numbers.
The one I called was run by a company calling itself ANG, which may also
use the name ARP. It took seven minutes of prime rate time to tell me
how to claim my �5,000 prize.
You might think that this kind of trick is too transparent to tempt
many punters, but you would be wrong. The website www.grumbletext.co.uk
is full of complaints from people who have responded and received
nothing, not to mention a number of threats to throw bricks through
ANG's windows - if they can be found. These mobile scams are even more
lucrative than the scratchcards, which involve printing and distribution
costs, and do provide prizes, even if they turn out to be less exciting
than they appear. The cost of sending automated SMS texts or voicemail
messages is negligible. And since no prizes are delivered, the revenue
generated from phone calls is pure profit. I dont know what ANG charged
me, but seven minutes at �1.50 would return more than �100,000 if just
10,000 of 47m mobile owners responded.
The only good thing about these mobile cheats is that their
operations are illegal. Icstis, the Independent Committee for the
Supervision of Standards of Telephone Information Services, has powers
to fine or shut down rogue operators, and has done so on several
occasions. This is not enough to satisfy the correspondents of
grumbletext, but Icstis says it takes the confidence tricksters very
seriously, not least because of the scale on which they operate - it is
not unusual for hundreds of thousands, or even millions, of messages to
be distributed. One problem is that Icstis regulates only the 090
service providers, which lease their numbers from 70 network operators.
These are supposed to check on the background of service providers, but
sometimes don't. Icstis says it will report them to Ofcom, their
regulator, if they do not stop dishing out numbers to crooks.
I conclude from all this that mobile competitions are quite clearly
scams, and we should all steer well clear of them. But I have to confess
that I'm tempted by one of the scratchcard competitions, in which I've
apparently won a "Pentium home computer" with a very
respectable specification including 120 gigabyte hard drive and 2.6 Ghz
processor. Even though I will have to pay �99 plus VAT for a compulsory
warranty and delivery charges, it sounds a bargain. But what can they
mean by "further terms may apply"? Is it just another scam?
I've sent off my claim, and I'll let you know in a future column.
[email protected]