Top 10 Biggest Internet Scams in History

The internet has transformed how we connect and do business, but it has also given rise to countless scams preying on people’s trust and greed. Over the decades, some online frauds have grown to staggering size, bilking victims out of millions or even billions of dollars. In this article, we count down ten of the biggest internet scams in history. For each, we’ll cover the background, how the scam worked, its impact on victims, any legal consequences, and the lessons we can learn to stay safe. The tone is informative and authoritative – because understanding these infamous scams is the first step to avoiding the next one.

From the notorious “Nigerian prince” emails to massive Ponzi schemes dressed up as legitimate investments, these cases show how creative and convincing scammers can be. They also highlight common red flags and timeless wisdom: if something sounds too good to be true, it probably is. Let’s dive into the top ten online scams that made history, in no particular order.

1. The Nigerian Prince Scam (Advance-Fee Fraud)

Background: The “Nigerian Prince” scam is perhaps the most iconic internet fraud of all. It’s a type of advance-fee scam – where a fraudster convinces a victim to pay upfront for a promised windfall that never actually materializes. In these emails (often from someone claiming to be a Nigerian royal or official), the scammer offers the victim a huge sum of money or a lucrative opportunity. The catch? The victim must first send a “small” fee to help with paperwork, taxes, or bribes. Of course, once the fee is paid, the scammer vanishes or keeps inventing new fees, stringing the victim along.

How it Worked: This scam pre-dates the internet – it evolved from older cons like the 18th-century “Spanish Prisoner” letter and later fax scams. But email made it global in the 1990s and 2000s. Scammers send mass emails by the millions; even a tiny response rate makes it profitable. The emails often spin elaborate tales: an exiled prince, a corrupt official, or a bank manager needs help transferring a fortune out of Nigeria (or another country). The victim is promised a hefty share (say, 20-30% of tens of millions of dollars) for their assistance. Once the victim is hooked, the requests for money begin – “urgent” processing fees, legal bills, bribes – until the victim either catches on or runs out of money.

Impact on Victims: While many people laugh off these emails as an obvious joke, the Nigerian prince scam has fooled thousands worldwide and continues to find victims even today. Losses are hard to measure since many are too embarrassed to report it. In the mid-2000s heyday of email fraud, Americans lost about $198 million to internet scams in a single year. As of 2019, “Nigerian letter” scams were still raking in roughly $700,000 a year from U.S. victims – not to mention victims in other countries. Individual losses can be devastating: victims have mortgaged homes, emptied retirement accounts, and even committed crimes at the scammer’s behest (thinking they’d be repaid later). Tragically, some victims have suffered extreme emotional distress; there are cases of suicide linked to lottery or inheritance scams that turned out to be fake. In one infamous example, a 72-year-old Czech victim, after losing $600,000, went to a Nigerian embassy and murdered an official in despair – a grim illustration of how destructive this fraud can be.

Legal Consequences: The global and anonymous nature of advance-fee scams makes prosecutions difficult. Many operations have been based in West Africa (hence the “Nigerian scam” moniker), but also in Europe, North America, and Asia. Nigerian authorities were long criticized for doing little, but in 2004 Nigeria did create the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC) to crack down on fraud. There have been some successes: in 2004, a joint operation in Amsterdam arrested 52 people behind 419 scams and temporarily halted a flood of scam emails. U.S. authorities have also prosecuted scammers or their local accomplices – for example, sentencing an Olympia, WA woman in 2008 who helped launder $1 million for Nigerian co-conspirators. However, many perpetrators remain beyond the reach of law enforcement, and new ones constantly emerge. The scam’s longevity is a testament to how lucrative it is and how hard it is to stamp out.

Lessons Learned:

• If someone you’ve never met offers you a huge sum of money out of the blue (whether it’s a “prince” or a lottery win), it’s almost certainly a scam. No real business or royalty will randomly choose a stranger for such favors.
• Legitimate deals don’t require paying fees to receive a prize or inheritance. As the FBI warns, **no honest transaction asks you to pay upfront for a bigger reward later**.
• Never wire money or send gift cards to someone who says it’s needed to release funds. These irreversible payment methods are tools of scammers specifically because they can’t be recovered.
• Keep in mind the old saying: if it sounds too good to be true, it probably is. Our own greed and hope can cloud judgment – scammers exploit that. Stay skeptical and verify any such story independently before ever responding.

2. Romance Scams (Online Dating Scams)

Background: Romance scams take the timeless con of the “love swindler” and supercharge it with the internet. Here, scammers create fake profiles on dating websites or social media, strike up online relationships with victims, and build trust – sometimes over many weeks or months – before orchestrating a financial request. Often the scammer impersonates an attractive single (sometimes stealing photos of real people) and targets those looking for love or companionship. Once the victim is emotionally invested, the scammer manufactures a crisis or opportunity: they need money for a medical emergency, a plane ticket to finally meet, a business investment, or even to help them out of legal trouble. The lovestruck victim, wanting to help their “partner,” sends money, only to find out later their beloved never existed.

How it Works: These scams are often run by organized groups, sometimes called “Yahoo boys” (particularly in West Africa) or other rings, though individuals may operate as well. The scammer typically avoids meeting in person, coming up with excuses (they’re working overseas on an oil rig, deployed in the military, etc.). They may spend hours each day chatting, sharing endearments, even sending small gifts – all to groom the victim. Eventually, a request for money comes: perhaps a tragic story (“I need $2,000 for emergency surgery” or “my wallet was stolen while traveling”) or a lucrative promise (“I know about a great crypto investment, send me funds and I’ll double them for us”). Often, multiple lies are layered to prolong the con. Some scammers string victims along for years, draining their savings bit by bit. It’s not just men targeting women; victims and perpetrators can be of any gender, though many schemes involve scammers in West Africa targeting older single or widowed women and men in Western countries.

Impact on Victims: Romance scams are among the costliest internet scams in recent years. According to the U.S. Federal Trade Commission, in 2023 alone Americans reported losing $1.14 billion to romance scams. That was the highest of any fraud category, with more than 64,000 people affected in that year. The median individual loss was around $2,000, but many people have lost tens or hundreds of thousands of dollars – not to mention the emotional devastation when they realize the person they loved was a fraud. Victims often feel heartbroken and humiliated, which means these crimes are under-reported (shame and embarrassment keep many silent). In some cases, victims have mortgaged homes or embezzled from employers at the scammer’s urging. The damage isn’t just financial; it’s deeply psychological, eroding the victim’s ability to trust others after the betrayal.

Legal Consequences: Because romance scams often overlap with other cybercrimes (like money laundering or business email compromise), law enforcement has pursued some of the larger networks. A notable case in 2019 saw U.S. federal prosecutors indict 80 defendants (mostly Nigerian nationals) in a massive conspiracy that included romance scams and other frauds targeting the elderly. In that case, victims lost at least $6 million (and another $40 million was attempted) before the ring was disrupted. Some members of that ring have since been convicted and sentenced. Another infamous scammer, Ramon Olorunwa Abbas (known as “Hushpuppi”), though more involved in business email scams, also dabbled in romance fraud and was arrested and extradited; he received a hefty prison sentence in the U.S. in 2022. Yet, for each big bust, there are many smaller-scale romance scammers who evade capture, especially if they operate from countries with limited cybercrime enforcement. Social media companies and dating sites have started to cooperate more with authorities and to warn users, but policing millions of interactions is a daunting task.

Lessons Learned:

• Be extremely cautious with anyone you meet online who starts professing strong feelings very quickly, especially if you’ve never met in person. Scammers often move fast to declare love or soul-mate connections – it’s a red flag if it feels too sudden or “too perfect.”
• Never send money or gifts to someone you haven’t met face-to-face. No matter the reason – accident, illness, travel trouble, “investment opportunity” – this is the number one rule to avoid romance scams. Scammers will fabricate very convincing stories (for example, claiming they or a family member are in a medical emergency), but a legitimate new partner will understand your caution and won’t pressure you into financial help.
• Watch out for common excuses scammers use to avoid meeting: “I’m deployed overseas,” “I’m working on an oil rig,” “I’m stuck in a remote area.” These are classic lies. Insistence on only online or phone contact, with zero in-person meeting, is a bad sign.
• Use reverse image search on your suitor’s profile pictures. Many romance scammers steal photos from real people (models, military officers, etc.). If the same photo shows up on other names or suspicious websites, you’re likely dealing with a fraud.
• Tell a friend or family member about your new online interest and be open to their skepticism. Often, outsiders can spot red flags easier than someone emotionally involved. Romance scammers typically try to isolate victims and may even ask you to keep the relationship secret – don’t fall for that. Keeping trusted people in the loop can save you from a scam.

3. Tech Support Scams (Fake Tech Support Calls)

Background: Tech support scams prey on people’s fear of computer viruses and their trust in big tech companies. In this scam, fraudsters contact victims by phone, email, or browser pop-up, pretending to be from Microsoft, Apple, or another reputable tech company’s support team. They falsely claim the victim’s computer is infected with malware or experiencing errors that pose an imminent threat. Panicked at the thought of losing their data or having their financial information stolen, victims are convinced to give the “technician” remote access to their computer or to pay for bogus software and services. In reality, there was nothing wrong with the computer until the scammer gained access.

How it Works: There are a couple of common approaches. One is the cold call: you get an unsolicited call from someone who says, “I’m with Microsoft tech support. We’ve detected a virus on your PC.” They often have some technical-sounding info (which is either made up or publicly available data) to sound legit. The other approach is via internet pop-ups or ads: a message suddenly takes over your screen saying “WARNING: Your computer is infected! Call this toll-free number immediately!”. These pop-ups can be alarming, sometimes using looping audio or flashing screens that mimic a genuine virus alert. If you call the number (or if you stay on the phone with the cold-caller), the scammer will instruct you through steps to “fix” the issue – which usually means granting them remote control of your PC. Once in, they might run fake diagnostics or show normal system logs claiming they are virus evidence. Then comes the sales pitch: you need to pay for a cleaning service, a warranty plan, or special security software. The fee can range from $50 to several hundred dollars. In more malicious cases, the scammer might actually install real malware or steal sensitive data while they have access.

Impact on Victims: Tech support scams typically target less tech-savvy individuals, often seniors. While each victim might “only” lose a few hundred dollars, the volume is huge. Microsoft estimated a few years ago that tech support scammers were bilking about 3.3 million people per year, with an annual total take of around $1.5 billion. That’s an average of about $450 per victim. Beyond the money lost for fake services, victims may also suffer identity theft if they gave the scammer passwords or credit card info, or they might experience real computer compromise if the scammer planted spyware. The psychological impact is significant too – victims often feel violated that a stranger invaded their personal computer and ashamed that they fell for a con. Unfortunately, these scams are so common that many victims never even realize they were scammed; they may just think they paid for a (unnecessary) service. Those who do realize it often have little recourse to get their money back, especially if payment was made via wire transfer or gift cards (methods scammers prefer because they’re hard to reverse).

Legal Consequences: Law enforcement and consumer protection agencies have been fighting tech support scams for years. In the United States, the Federal Trade Commission (FTC) has brought cases against some of these operations. For example, in 2012, the FTC charged several companies running tech support schemes that tricked tens of thousands of people, and a federal court ordered a halt and asset freezes. Microsoft itself has worked with authorities to trace and shut down call centers (many of which operate out of India). There have been raids by Indian police on boiler rooms engaged in tech support fraud, resulting in arrests of dozens of employees. The FTC has also coordinated with foreign law enforcement since victims and scammers are often in different countries. While some key players have been caught and penalized, the problem persists due to the low cost of entry – scammers can start a new call center or website easily under a different name. On a positive note, awareness is growing: many internet browsers and security software now recognize and block the fake pop-ups, and phone companies are working on better spam call filtering. Still, it’s an ongoing battle.

Lessons Learned:

• Unsolicited tech help is a giant red flag. Neither Microsoft, Apple, nor any major company will cold-call you to tell you your computer is infected. Similarly, they won’t send pop-up warnings with a phone number. If you get an unexpected call or on-screen alert urging you to contact support, be almost certain it’s a scam. Real error messages from Windows or macOS do not include phone numbers to call.
• Never grant remote access to someone who contacted you out of the blue. Remote desktop control is powerful – once in, a scammer can do anything you can on your computer. Only use remote support with verified tech professionals that you yourself called (for instance, you initiated a support request with your internet provider or computer manufacturer).
• If a supposed tech support agent asks for payment via wire transfer, prepaid gift cards, or cryptocurrency, it’s a scam. Legitimate companies will bill you normally and never demand gift cards as payment. Scammers use untraceable payment methods; that’s a sure sign of fraud.
• Keep your computer’s security software up to date and run regular scans so you have confidence in your own protection. If you do see a strange pop-up, don’t click it – use Ctrl+Alt+Delete (on Windows) or Force Quit (on Mac) to close the browser. If in doubt, run a scan with your antivirus software or consult a known local technician.
• Finally, spread the word to relatives and friends, especially those less familiar with tech. Many victims fall simply because they didn’t know this scam existed. A little awareness can save a lot of trouble.

4. Fake Antivirus (Scareware) Scams

Background: Closely related to tech support scams is the “fake antivirus” scam – also known as scareware. In this scheme, scammers trick users into believing their computer is infected, then charge them for useless or malicious software to “fix” it. The difference is that fake antivirus scams are usually software or pop-up based (not phone calls). You might recall seeing an alarming message on your screen: “Warning: Your PC is infected with 23 viruses! Click here to remove them now!” These messages often mimic the appearance of legitimate antivirus programs or system alerts. Panicked users click and are prompted to download an “anti-virus tool” or “PC cleaner.” Once installed, it may lock the screen or continuously prompt the user to pay for the full version to clean the (fake) threats.

How it Worked: During the mid-2000s, this scam was rampant. Cybercriminals created bogus security software with names like “WinFixer” or “Antivirus2009” that had slick-looking interfaces. They advertised or spread them via pop-ups and malware. A user might visit a compromised website and suddenly get a very official-looking scan report that their computer is crawling with viruses. Clicking the prompt would download the scareware. The software would then hijack the computer – maybe changing the homepage, popping up nonstop alerts, and even disabling real security measures. When the user tried to use it to remove the viruses, it would demand payment (often $49.99 or similar) for a license key. Even if the user paid, the software either did nothing or installed actual spyware. It was a numbers game for scammers: even a small percentage of the millions of people who saw such alerts would pay, netting huge profits.

Impact on Victims: Fake antivirus scams snared a huge number of victims around the world, including many business and home users who weren’t very tech-savvy. The individual monetary loss per person was typically in the range of $40 to $100 for the fake software. But some users also experienced identity theft if the scareware logged keystrokes or exported personal data. Businesses faced downtime dealing with infestations of scareware across staff computers. In terms of aggregate damage, one infamous scareware operation run by a company called Innovative Marketing, Inc. was estimated to have duped consumers out of over $60 million over about eight years. That operation alone prompted more than 3,000 complaints to the U.S. FTC – and that’s just those who took the time to complain. There were dozens of such outfits globally, so the total haul from fake AV scams likely ran into the hundreds of millions of dollars. Beyond the money, these scams eroded people’s trust in computer warnings. Some victims, after realizing they were conned, became overly suspicious of even legitimate security alerts, potentially putting themselves at risk of real viruses later. It’s a pernicious mix of financial and security harm.

Legal Consequences: Authorities did manage to crack down on some scareware rings. In 2008, the U.S. Federal Trade Commission filed a complaint against Innovative Marketing and affiliates for their massive scareware scam. In 2012, a U.S. court imposed a judgment of $163 million against three of the operation’s principals – essentially the estimated revenues they made from victims. (Collecting that money is another story – many of the ringleaders fled overseas; one notorious figure, Sam Jain, remained a fugitive for years.) Law enforcement around the world, including in Europe and Asia, also arrested individuals tied to scareware distribution, especially as these scams sometimes overlapped with other cybercrimes. By the mid-2010s, the era of fake antivirus started waning, partly due to these crackdowns and partly because browser and OS security got better at blocking pop-ups. Additionally, consumer awareness increased – fewer people are installing random “antivirus” from a pop-up today than 15 years ago. But the scareware model still survives in new forms (for example, fake VPN or system optimizer apps that charge fees without doing anything). The legacy of those big scareware busts set precedents for treating such schemes as serious fraud.

Lessons Learned:

• Be skeptical of any unsolicited security alert in your web browser. If a random website or pop-up claims you have viruses, assume it’s a scam. Only trust messages from security software you deliberately installed, and even then, verify that the program is legitimate.
• Never download software or give payment info based on a pop-up or ad. If you think your computer might really have an issue, go directly to a known antivirus provider’s site or use software you trust. Don’t click on the scare message.
• Keep your operating system and antivirus up to date. Modern browsers and OSes often block known scareware sites or files. Staying updated gives you a layer of protection.
• If you do get tricked and a fake AV program has locked your screen, restart in safe mode and use reputable antivirus/malware removal tools or seek professional help. And of course, cancel any credit cards or accounts you might have given to scammers.
• Remember that real tech companies don’t embed support phone numbers in error messages, and they don’t “find” serious problems on your PC then demand quick payment. That urgency and fear tactic is a hallmark of fraud.

5. Business Email Compromise (CEO Fraud)

Background: Business Email Compromise (BEC), also known as “CEO fraud” or “supplier swindle,” is a sophisticated scam targeting companies rather than individuals – though ultimately it is people within companies who get duped. In a BEC scam, fraudsters impersonate a trusted party via email to trick an organization into sending a large payment to the wrong account. There are a few common scenarios: one is pretending to be a high-ranking executive (CEO, CFO) emailing a subordinate in finance, urgently instructing them to wire money to a certain account (often under the guise of a confidential deal or emergency). Another scenario is spoofing a supplier or business partner: the scammer hacks or mimics a vendor’s email and sends an invoice or payment instructions to the victim company, who then unwittingly pays the fraudster instead of the real supplier. Unlike many scams that cast a wide net, BEC scams are often highly targeted and researched – criminals might spend weeks learning about a company’s employees, vendors, and payment processes to craft a believable con.

How it Works: The key to BEC is deception and timing. Scammers might register look-alike domains (e.g., if your partner is Acme Corp with domain acme.com, the scammer might use acme-co.com or a misspelled version) or compromise an actual email account through phishing. They often strike when the real person they’re impersonating is out of office or when a big transaction is expected. For example, a company’s accountant may receive an email that appears to come from their CEO: “We need to finalize a wire transfer today for a secret acquisition. Please send $200,000 to this account immediately. I’m in a meeting, no calls – just get it done.” The pressure and authority in the message can override the employee’s caution. By the time anyone realizes the CEO never sent that email, the money has been wired to a bank account controlled by the scammer (usually overseas) and quickly withdrawn or laundered away.

Impact: BEC scams have been wildly successful financially – in fact, by many reports, BEC is the single largest source of cybercrime losses worldwide in the past few years. The FBI began tracking BEC around 2013, and by 2017 they had recorded over $3 billion in losses just from reported cases in those four years. Since then, that number has ballooned (estimates exceed $10 billion globally over the last decade). High-profile victims include huge companies: for instance, between 2013 and 2015, Facebook and Google were conned out of over $100 million via BEC. In that case, a Lithuanian man simply sent fake invoices and emails impersonating a large Asian hardware supplier, and the tech giants dutifully paid – $23 million from Google and about $99 million from Facebook. (They eventually recovered some of it when the scam was exposed.) Other cases involve real estate escrow funds, law firm trust accounts, even town governments being tricked into wiring money. Individual transfers often range from tens of thousands up to millions of dollars. Unlike many scams on this list, BEC typically doesn’t involve large numbers of victims losing a little each; it’s usually a smaller number of big victims losing a lot in one go. For the companies hit, the fallout includes financial loss, reputational damage, and sometimes lawsuits or insurance claims. In some tragic instances, employees who fell for BEC scams have lost their jobs or faced severe stress. There have even been reports of suicide in at least one case where an employee felt responsible for a massive loss.

Legal Consequences: Law enforcement agencies worldwide have made BEC a top priority, since it often involves organized criminal networks. The perpetrator in the Google/Facebook scam, Evaldas Rimasauskas, was tracked down and arrested in Europe, extradited to the U.S., and in 2019 pleaded guilty to fraud – he was sentenced to 5 years in prison and ordered to forfeit $49.7 million. In another example, Nigerian authorities and the FBI collaborated to arrest a notorious BEC scammer named Obinwanne Okeke (“Invictus Obi”), who was sentenced in the U.S. in 2021 to 10 years for stealing approximately $11 million via BEC schemes. Larger crackdowns have also occurred: the 2019 case mentioned earlier with 80 individuals indicted in Los Angeles included BEC schemes among other frauds. Furthermore, Interpol and Europol have coordinated periodic global stings (like Operation “WireWire” and “Rewire”) resulting in dozens of arrests of BEC crews in various countries. While many BEC actors remain elusive – especially those based in nations where cybercrime enforcement is weaker – the heat is on. There’s also an increased emphasis on banking protocols to freeze suspicious wires quickly and recover funds when possible. Some of the stolen money has been clawed back by quick intervention, but prevention is far preferable since once the money’s gone, recovery is never guaranteed.

Lessons Learned:

• Companies must implement strict verification procedures for financial transfers. For example, if a CFO receives an email from the CEO about wiring funds, they should **always double-check via a secondary channel** (call the CEO on a known number, not one provided in email) before acting. No matter how urgent it seems, confirmation is key.
• Train employees about BEC scams. Many companies now conduct phishing simulations and security awareness training so staff can spot telltale signs of a fake email or invoice. Things like slight email address differences, unusual urgency or secrecy, or payment instruction changes should raise immediate concern.
• Use technical safeguards: email filters can flag or block emails with domains that look similar to yours or your partners’. Also, enabling two-factor authentication on email accounts can reduce the risk of account compromise.
• Set up systematic checks for payments. For instance, any wire above a certain amount might require two approvals or a verbal sign-off. This makes it harder for a single spoofed email to authorize a large transfer.
• Keep suppliers and clients in the loop about BEC. Many BEC scams intercept legitimate invoices and alter bank details. By communicating, e.g., “We will never change our bank account without a phone call,” you create a shared defense. Likewise, if a vendor emails saying “our banking info changed,” always verify by a known contact method.

6. Ashley Madison Affair Site Scam

Background: Ashley Madison was (and still is) an online dating service with a controversial twist – it marketed itself to people seeking extramarital affairs. Launched in 2001 with the slogan “Life is short. Have an affair,” the site promised married individuals a discreet platform to find willing partners. By the mid-2010s, Ashley Madison claimed over 37 million users worldwide. However, the “affair guarantee” that the site sold was largely a sham. In 2015, a massive data breach revealed that Ashley Madison’s female user base was overwhelmingly fake. The company had seeded the platform with tens of thousands of dummy female profiles and chatbots to engage paying male customers. In other words, many men on the site weren’t flirting with real women at all – they were essentially paying subscription fees to exchange messages with fictional personas.

How it Worked: Ashley Madison’s business model relied on men purchasing credits to send messages and gifts on the site (women could use it for free). To keep these paying customers interested, the company allegedly created fake female profiles (“engagers”) that would send flirty messages to new male sign-ups, giving the impression of interest. According to analysis by journalists after the breach, out of 5.5 million supposed female profiles, only a tiny fraction ever corresponded with anyone. One report found that just 1 in 10,000 accounts marked “female” showed any signs of being a real, active user – roughly about 12,000 real women versus millions of men. Moreover, internal company documents indicated the use of automated “bots” to send generic first messages like “Hey, I like your profile,” which would prompt hopeful men to spend credits to respond. Essentially, Ashley Madison was populated by legions of phantom lovers. This scheme kept men spending money, chasing an illusion of available partners.

Impact on Victims: The primary “victims” in this scenario were the male customers who were deceived into paying for a chance at an affair that likely never existed. Some individuals spent hundreds or thousands of dollars on credits, drawn in by attention from what turned out to be fake profiles. The emotional impact ranges from disappointment to severe marital or personal consequences if their usage of the site was discovered. And indeed, discovery became a huge factor: in July 2015, a hacker group calling themselves “The Impact Team” hacked Ashley Madison’s parent company (Avid Life Media) and, in August, dumped the entire user database online. This breach exposed the names, emails, and account details of millions of users. The fallout was enormous – not only was the company’s deceptive practice laid bare, but countless real people were outed for seeking affairs. There were reports of divorces, career repercussions, and even at least two suicides that police linked to the fallout of the breach. To make matters worse, scammers seized on the opportunity: once the data was public, some people received extortion emails saying their spouse or boss would be informed of their Ashley Madison membership unless they paid a ransom (a secondary scam piggybacking on the first). The Ashley Madison incident thus combined an internal scam (fake users) with a data breach crisis, making it one of the most infamous examples of a company betraying its customers’ trust.

Legal and Financial Consequences: In the wake of the breach and revelations, Ashley Madison faced intense legal scrutiny. Numerous class-action lawsuits were filed by users (both for the data breach and the fake profiles issue). In July 2017, Avid Life Media agreed to a settlement of about $11.2 million to compensate U.S. customers who had been affected by the breach (a relatively small amount per user, given the number of people) – this was in addition to earlier settlements with regulators. The U.S. Federal Trade Commission and states’ attorneys general investigated the company for deceptive practices. In 2016, Avid Life (rebranded as Ruby Corp) paid a $1.6 million settlement with U.S. regulators over the fake profile allegations and lack of data security (the FTC noted that the company had failed to delete user data even when subscribers paid a “Full Delete” fee). No executives were criminally charged, but the CEO of Avid Life, Noel Biderman, resigned in 2015 under the cloud of the scandal. The site itself did not shut down – after rebranding and purportedly cleaning up its practices, Ashley Madison continues to operate, albeit with a permanently tarnished reputation. Meanwhile, the hackers behind the breach were never definitively identified.

Lessons Learned:

• When using online services, especially those involving personal relationships or sensitive matters, maintain a healthy skepticism. If it feels like you’re getting a little too much attention (e.g., lots of unsolicited messages from attractive profiles), consider that it may be a ploy. On Ashley Madison, virtually **all the “women” initiating conversations were fake**. The lesson: high user counts and engagement metrics can be rigged; quality matters more than quantity in online connections.
• Be extremely cautious about sharing personal information on sites that promise anonymity or discretion. Ashley Madison promised secrecy, but ultimately couldn’t deliver – and the exposure of user data had devastating effects. Assume that anything you do online might become public, and weigh that risk carefully, especially for sensitive activities.
• For companies operating online platforms: transparency and security are paramount. Ashley Madison’s downfall was hastened by its dishonesty with users and failure to secure their data. The trust of your user base is hard to earn and easy to destroy. Short-term profits from deceitful practices lead to long-term ruin.
• If you were a user affected by a breach like this, remember that scammers may target you again (as happened post-breach with extortion emails). Official channels (law enforcement, credit monitoring) can help, but never pay new scammers – they often bluff and have no intention of keeping any “promise” of silence.

7. The MMM Ponzi Scheme (Mavrodi’s Moneybox)

Background: Decades before Bitcoin or “high-yield investment programs,” there was MMM – one of the world’s most notorious Ponzi schemes, born in the early years of post-Soviet Russia. MMM was a company founded by Sergey Mavrodi in 1989, initially as a legitimate business, but by 1994 it turned into a gigantic pyramid investment scam. MMM promised investors incredible returns – up to 3,000% annual interest – at a time when Russians were facing economic chaos and craved ways to safeguard and grow their money. Mavrodi advertised heavily on TV, showing ordinary people striking it rich by investing with MMM. The operation was simple: investors would buy tickets or shares of MMM and were told their money was being invested profitably, yielding huge monthly dividends. In reality, MMM had no real profits; early investors were paid off with funds from later investors. It was a classic Ponzi structure, but on a scale the world hadn’t quite seen before.

Scale and Impact: The MMM scheme in 1994 swept through Russia like wildfire. By some estimates, between five and ten million people invested in MMM at its peak – that’s millions of families, many of whom lost their life savings when MMM inevitably collapsed. The exact financial losses are hard to pin down, especially because some people made money if they cashed out early. Contemporary estimates suggested gross losses of around $1.5 billion (in mid-90s dollars), though others believe the broader economic damage was even higher once you include indirect effects. The collapse in August 1994 was chaotic: MMM’s offices in Moscow were besieged by angry investors when payouts stopped. Some investors reportedly even committed suicide out of ruin and despair. The Russian government, which had little experience with such frauds and initially no law explicitly against Ponzi schemes, was caught flat-footed. Mavrodi’s fraud rocked public confidence during an already fragile economic transition. Unbelievably, Mavrodi used the public’s anger to his advantage – he claimed the government caused MMM’s collapse and even got himself elected to the Russian Duma (parliament) in late 1994, presumably to gain immunity from prosecution. (It didn’t last; he was stripped of immunity and went into hiding.)

Mavrodi’s Comeback and Global Spread: Sergey Mavrodi was eventually arrested in 2003 and convicted of fraud in Russia, serving a few years in prison. One might think that would be the end of MMM – but not so. After his release, Mavrodi launched what he called “MMM Global” around 2011, using the internet and social media to tap into new markets in Asia, Africa, and Latin America. He openly described it as a “financial social network” and even admitted there was no real business model (in some statements, he practically said “this is a Ponzi, but if we all play along, we all benefit” – a bold pitch). Astonishingly, people still joined. In countries like South Africa, Nigeria, India, China, and Indonesia, MMM resurfaced and drew in thousands of new victims in the 2010s. For example, in Nigeria, MMM gained huge popularity in 2016 via Facebook and WhatsApp groups, until it crashed in December of that year – the Nigerian government estimates that Nigerians put ₦28.7 billion into MMM and lost about ₦11.9 billion of it when it collapsed (roughly $40 million USD). Similar stories played out elsewhere. Mavrodi died of a heart attack in 2018, effectively ending MMM Global, but by then the scheme had left a trail of financial wreckage on multiple continents.

Legal Consequences: As mentioned, Russia eventually nailed Mavrodi on fraud and tax evasion charges from the 90s scheme. He got a relatively light sentence (released around 2007) considering the scope of damage. Part of the challenge was that Ponzi schemes were a new phenomenon there, and laws had to catch up. In other countries, authorities were quicker to warn and act during MMM’s second coming. China, for instance, arrested nearly two dozen people connected to MMM in 2016. In India and South Africa, regulators issued public alerts to stay away. Nigeria’s Central Bank and EFCC likewise warned citizens, but enforcement was tough because MMM Global was more of a decentralized “mutual aid” concept (people were literally told they’re donating money to help others and would get help in return). After Mavrodi’s death, there wasn’t much recourse for victims; he had claimed there was no central entity to hold accountable. The MMM saga is a cautionary tale of how a charismatic schemer can repeatedly exploit the same basic human hopes and fears – and how Ponzi schemes can thrive even in the internet age, mutating and spreading swiftly online.

Lessons Learned:

• Ponzi schemes often lure people with promises of extraordinary returns (“get rich quick”). Always ask: where is the profit actually coming from? In MMM’s case, promises of 20% or 30% per month returns were completely unrealistic and a huge red flag. No legitimate investment consistently pays such rates.
• Understand the classic pyramid structure: when payouts to existing investors rely solely on bringing in new investors, collapse is inevitable. If you’re told your earnings depend on recruiting others, or if the “investment” has no product or revenue other than membership fees, run the other way.
• Don’t be swayed by herd mentality or social buzz. MMM’s revival succeeded by creating online communities where many people trumpeted their (short-term) earnings, which pressured others to join. Just because friends or neighbors jump in (or you see testimonials on social media) doesn’t make it safe or real. Scammers often pay out a few early users to generate positive word-of-mouth – a strategy Mavrodi used effectively.
• Heed official warnings. Government and financial regulators worldwide frequently issue advisories about schemes like MMM. Before investing your money, do a quick search: if a scheme has been flagged by central banks or regulatory agencies as a scam, believe those warnings. Skeptical investors who checked would have found many alerts about MMM.
• Finally, remember that lightning doesn’t strike twice – the fact that MMM reappeared and still found victims shows that memory can be short. Educate yourself and others on past scams (like through articles such as this!). Knowledge of history’s biggest scams can inoculate us against falling for similar tricks re-packaged in the future.

8. TelexFree Pyramid Scheme

Background: TelexFree was a massive global pyramid/Ponzi scheme that operated in 2012–2014 under the guise of an MLM (multi-level marketing) telecom company. Founded by James Merrill and Carlos Wanzeler and initially based in Massachusetts, USA, TelexFree advertised an internet telephone service (VoIP) similar to Skype. In reality, almost nobody was buying their product; the real business was signing up “promoters” who paid a fee and were promised big weekly earnings for posting online ads and recruiting others. TelexFree’s pitch combined elements of MLM and Ponzi promises – you could earn money by doing a simple task (posting ads) and by bringing in new members, with an implicit guarantee of returns over 200% per year. The simplicity and “work from home” angle attracted a huge number of participants across the U.S., Brazil, and many other countries.

Scale of the Scam: By the time TelexFree collapsed in 2014, it had drawn in over 1 million people worldwide as promoters. Prosecutors later described TelexFree as possibly the largest pyramid scheme ever in terms of number of victims, given its reach across multiple continents. In monetary terms, it handled on the order of $1 billion in funds during its operation, and further investigation showed the total money stolen globally was higher. When U.S. authorities charged the founders, they stated TelexFree had defrauded investors of approximately $3 billion. Much of this growth was fueled in Brazil – TelexFree became a household name there around 2013, particularly in poorer communities where the promise of easy income was very appealing. It was so pervasive that “TelexFree” was among Brazil’s top Google search terms in 2013.

How it Worked: A person joining TelexFree would pay for a membership plan (often around $1,400 for the premium “Ad Central Family” package). In return, they were told they could earn about $100 per week by posting certain ads online daily – ads that promoted TelexFree itself. They were also incentivized to recruit others; bringing new people in could earn bonuses. Crucially, if you couldn’t find customers for the VoIP product, TelexFree said it would “buy back” your unsold inventory at the end of the year – effectively guaranteeing your investment return. This structure meant participants were essentially paying in money and getting paid from new participants’ money, with the ad-posting being a charade (it created lots of spam on the internet, but no real product revenue). Eventually, Brazilian regulators cracked down on TelexFree in mid-2013, freezing its accounts there after seeing the classic signs of a pyramid. TelexFree then shifted focus to other markets, but by April 2014 it filed for bankruptcy protection in the U.S., which quickly turned into a fraud investigation. By then, the scheme had burned countless victims – some had even re-mortgaged homes or taken out loans to buy multiple TelexFree accounts.

Impact on Victims: The human toll of TelexFree was severe, especially in immigrant communities. In Massachusetts (home to a large Brazilian diaspora), many Brazilians poured their savings into TelexFree and also got friends and family to join. When the music stopped, life savings were gone and personal relationships were strained by recriminations. In Brazil, where over a million people were involved, TelexFree’s collapse led to protests and anguish; it was reportedly one of the largest financial frauds in Brazilian history. Unlike some Ponzi schemes that target the wealthy, TelexFree drew heavily from working-class folks who could least afford the losses. There were stories of families ruined and people unable to pay debts because they were counting on TelexFree payouts that never came. The broader impact was a lesson to regulators about the rapid cross-border nature of modern pyramid schemes, which can proliferate via social media and YouTube at lightning speed.

Legal Consequences: TelexFree’s founders faced justice, at least in the U.S. James Merrill was arrested in 2014 and later pleaded guilty to fraud charges. In 2017, he was sentenced to 6 years in prison and ordered to forfeit around $140 million in assets. A Homeland Security investigator noted that Merrill and co. had effectively stolen over $3 billion from innocents around the world. Carlos Wanzeler, the co-founder, fled to Brazil (Brazil does not extradite its citizens), but interestingly, in 2020 he was arrested by Brazilian authorities on separate charges – and just in 2023, he was extradited back to the U.S. (Brazil made an exception once he lost his citizenship by naturalizing in the U.S.). Several top promoters in the U.S. and abroad were also charged by the SEC for securities fraud in connection with TelexFree. In terms of restitution, a court-appointed bankruptcy trustee went through the painful process of liquidating what remained of TelexFree’s assets to repay victims. By 2021, the trustee had begun distributing some money to approved claimants, but as usual in these cases, victims recover only pennies on the dollar of what they put in. Brazil pursued its own court cases against TelexFree’s Brazilian operations and associates, though those processes have been lengthy. TelexFree serves as a landmark case that prompted stronger enforcement and awareness around MLM-related fraud.

Lessons Learned:

• If an MLM or “work-from-home” program guarantees income for minimal work (like just posting ads) and especially if it requires an upfront fee, be very skeptical. Real businesses don’t pay hundreds of dollars a week to random people for tasks that generate no revenue. In TelexFree’s case, the ad-posting job was essentially a smokescreen.
• Always ask: where does the money come from? In a legitimate direct-selling company, most revenue comes from selling products to real customers. In TelexFree, 98% of revenue came from recruiting new promoters (not from selling VoIP service)}. That imbalance – money mostly from new recruits – is a telltale sign of a pyramid scheme.
• Check with regulators if you’re unsure. By the time TelexFree approached you, chances are your country’s consumer protection or financial authority might have issued warnings. For example, the U.S. SEC and the Brazilian government both signaled concerns early on. A quick search or call could reveal a lot.
• Be wary of any investment that leans on community or affinity trust. TelexFree spread through church groups, immigrant communities, and close-knit networks. Scammers exploit our trust in people we know. It’s often not enough to rely on a friend’s word that something is safe – they might be unknowingly swept up in the hype or desperate to recoup their own investment by recruiting you.
• Don’t fall for “loss-proof” guarantees. TelexFree promised to buy back unsold product, effectively saying “you can’t lose money.” Any time you hear that, especially in an unregulated scheme, it’s almost certainly false. There are always risks in business – anyone claiming no risk while offering high returns is not being honest.

9. OneCoin Cryptocurrency Scam

Background: OneCoin was a fraudulent cryptocurrency scheme that ran from 2014 into 2017, drawing in billions of dollars from investors worldwide before it was exposed as a Ponzi scheme. It was founded by a Bulgarian woman named Dr. Ruja Ignatova, who styled herself as the glamorous “CryptoQueen.” She and her co-founders claimed OneCoin would be the next Bitcoin, urging people to invest in educational packages that included OneCoin tokens. Unlike genuine cryptocurrencies, OneCoin had no public blockchain, no way to trade outside their ecosystem, and the coin’s “price” was set arbitrarily by the company rather than by market supply and demand. In essence, OneCoin operated like a multi-level marketing network (members got commissions for recruiting new investors) combined with a classic Ponzi promise (invest now and your coins’ value will multiply several-fold).

Hype and How It Worked: OneCoin targeted people in over 175 countries, often those with little prior knowledge of crypto. They ran flashy events – Ruja Ignatova spoke at extravaganzas in London’s Wembley Arena and other venues, always in expensive dresses and jewelry, to lend an air of credibility. Investors were told OneCoin’s blockchain was private but revolutionary, and that the coin was sure to skyrocket in value. Early packages cost a few hundred euros, but later “Super Combo” packages cost tens of thousands. On the back end, OneCoin was simply allocating database entries to people’s accounts – there was no real mining or blockchain. Meanwhile, they encouraged members to recruit friends and family, paying out bonuses in cash and OneCoins for bringing others in. For a while, members saw their OneCoin balances growing (on paper, the coin’s value kept increasing on the internal exchange), which fueled the frenzy. But withdrawals were limited and eventually halted. By late 2016, regulators and journalists were raising serious questions about OneCoin, and the scheme started to unravel.

Impact on Victims: The OneCoin scam is believed to have defrauded investors of roughly $4 billion in total. It’s been called one of the biggest scams in all of cryptocurrency’s history, if not the biggest. Victims ranged from big spenders who put in six-figure sums to ordinary folks who might have invested a few thousand thinking it was their ticket out of poverty. Many people were affected in countries like China, Germany, the UK, Canada, and various African nations – truly a global reach. The damage wasn’t just monetary; OneCoin believers were very loyal (some thought Ruja Ignatova was a genius changing the world) and when it collapsed, it left a trail of broken trust. Particularly heartbreaking were stories of people in impoverished areas who pooled money to buy into OneCoin, only to lose it all. There were also some instances of violence – for example, in India, some local promoters were allegedly kidnapped by disgruntled investors demanding their money back. In the end, OneCoin’s coin was worthless and untradeable outside the system. It’s a stark reminder that not all that glitters is gold, and not every “cryptocurrency” is real.

Legal Consequences: OneCoin’s downfall became a high-profile criminal case spanning multiple countries. The founder, Ruja Ignatova, disappeared in October 2017 – she boarded a flight to Greece and hasn’t been seen since. In 2019, the U.S. FBI put her on their Top Ten Most Wanted list, a rare honor for a fraudster, with a $100,000 reward for information on her whereabouts. She remains at large as of this writing (earning the moniker “the missing CryptoQueen”). However, other key players have been brought to justice. Ruja’s younger brother, Konstantin Ignatov, who took over after she vanished, was arrested in 2019 in the U.S.; he pleaded guilty to fraud and is awaiting sentencing while cooperating with authorities. OneCoin’s co-founder, Karl Sebastian Greenwood, was arrested in 2018 – he pled guilty and in 2023 was sentenced to 20 years in prison in the U.S. for his role in the scheme. Another significant conviction was that of Mark Scott, a former attorney who helped launder around $400 million of OneCoin’s proceeds; he was found guilty in 2019 and later sentenced to 10 years in prison. Additionally, in countries like China, dozens of OneCoin promoters were prosecuted (China reportedly recovered over $250 million and assets like luxury cars from OneCoin agents there). The OneCoin organization itself, which was based in Bulgaria, was raided and shut down by European law enforcement. The legal saga has been complex, and efforts to recover funds for victims are ongoing but challenging, given that a lot of the money is still unaccounted for or tied up in properties, hidden accounts, and Ruja’s unknown stash. OneCoin stands as a stark example to regulators of how fast and far a fraud can spread under the banner of the latest technology buzzword.

Lessons Learned:

• Not every “cryptocurrency” is real. OneCoin took advantage of the crypto hype but lacked basic features of a true cryptocurrency (no public ledger, no transparency). Before investing in any crypto project, do due diligence: Who is behind it? Is there a real, functioning blockchain? Can you freely trade it on open exchanges? If the project says “trust us, it’s all proprietary,” that’s a big warning sign.
• Beware of investments that rely on recruitment or come with “packages” and MLM-style commissions. Legitimate cryptocurrencies do not require you to recruit others to profit. If you see a crypto offering referral bonuses or multi-tiered membership levels, it’s likely a scam borrowing Ponzi/MLM tactics.
• High-pressure sales and FOMO (fear of missing out) are common in scams. OneCoin hosts told people that this was a one-time opportunity and that skeptics just didn’t understand the brilliance. Don’t let anyone guilt or pressure you into an investment. If you’re being told to act fast, that’s a clue to slow down.
• Regulatory warnings matter. OneCoin was flagged by numerous financial authorities (from the Bank of Bulgaria to the U.K. FCA to the Singapore MAS) by 2016. These were publicly available warnings that, unfortunately, many investors ignored, often at the urging of OneCoin leaders who dismissed regulators as biased. If multiple countries’ watchdogs are shouting “scam,” take heed.
• Diversify and be cautious. Many OneCoin victims put all their savings into the scheme. Never invest money you cannot afford to lose, and be especially wary of putting everything into a single unproven venture. The bigger the promised reward, the bigger the risk.

10. Bitconnect Ponzi Scheme

Background: Bitconnect was a cryptocurrency lending platform that became one of the most infamous scams in the crypto world, collapsing in early 2018. Launched in 2016, Bitconnect issued its own token called BCC (Bitconnect Coin) and touted a “Lending Program.” The idea sold to investors was: you deposit your Bitcoin on the Bitconnect platform, and their proprietary trading bot will use it to generate profits by trading crypto volatility. In return, Bitconnect will pay you extremely high interest – up to 1% per day (which, compounding, would be astronomically high annual returns). Users had to lock in their funds for a period (e.g., 120 days) and could earn more if they referred others to join. Bitconnect’s website showed a chart of consistent returns, and for a while, it actually did pay out as promised. This was all funded by new investments – a classic Ponzi structure, though many investors were blinded by the spectacular returns and the rising value of the BCC token.

The Rise: Bitconnect gained a large following in 2017, especially as cryptocurrency as a whole was booming. Its token, BCC, soared in value – at one point it was among the top 10 cryptocurrencies by market capitalization, reaching about $3.4 billion in market cap. The project’s promoters were very active on YouTube and social media, creating a frenzy of interest. Perhaps the most memorable moment was the Bitconnect event in late 2017 where an excitable promoter, Carlos Matos, yelled the meme-worthy “Bitcoooonnect!” on stage, symbolizing the almost cult-like enthusiasm of its community. However, skeptics (and there were many in the crypto community) pointed out that the guaranteed interest was mathematically unsustainable and suspected no real trading bot existed. By late 2017, regulators in Texas and North Carolina issued cease-and-desist orders against Bitconnect for selling unregistered securities and possible fraud. These moves foreshadowed trouble for the platform.

The Fall: In January 2018, under increasing scrutiny and banking issues, Bitconnect abruptly announced it was shutting down the lending platform. Overnight, the value of BCC plummeted by over 90%, as users scrambled to sell but found there were no buyers. Essentially, the Ponzi engine had stopped, and panic ensued. People who had reinvested their interest (compound earnings) saw their wealth evaporate. All told, an estimated $2.4 billion of investor funds had gone into Bitconnect by the time of its collapse. Many participants around the world – from the U.S. to India to Vietnam – lost significant money. The Bitconnect crash became a cautionary tale in crypto circles, often cited alongside a popular meme of the screaming Carlos Matos as a reminder of irrational exuberance.

Legal Consequences: After Bitconnect’s collapse, investigations kicked off in multiple countries. In the U.S., a flurry of class-action lawsuits were filed by aggrieved investors. Eventually, the Department of Justice and FBI got involved. In 2021, the SEC charged Bitconnect’s top U.S. promoter (Glenn Arcaro) and several affiliates with fraud. Arcaro pleaded guilty to conspiracy to commit wire fraud; in 2022, he was sentenced to 38 months in prison and ordered to pay back $24 million to investors. The big fish, Bitconnect’s founder Satish Kumbhani, was indicted by a U.S. grand jury in February 2022 on charges of orchestrating this global Ponzi. The indictment alleges he and conspirators siphoned investors’ money into wallets they controlled and that he evaded financial regulations. However, Kumbhani’s case is tricky – as of the last update, he had left his home country of India and his whereabouts were unknown (some reports suggest he may be in hiding). The FBI is working with international partners to locate him. Meanwhile, authorities in countries like India also conducted their own probes; Indian police froze some assets and made a few arrests of local Bitconnect franchise heads in 2018. As for recovering funds, in November 2021 the U.S. Justice Department said it had obtained court approval to liquidate about $56 million in cryptocurrency seized from Arcaro to refund victims. This is a start, but relative to $2.4 billion, most Bitconnect victims will still end up with a fraction of their losses at best.

Bitconnect’s swift rise and fall and the ensuing legal actions helped send a clear message: just because an investment uses the buzzwords “cryptocurrency” or “blockchain” doesn’t mean it’s legitimate. It also highlighted how transnational these scams can be, requiring cross-border law enforcement cooperation. The case is ongoing, especially in the pursuit of Kumbhani.

Lessons Learned:

• Guaranteed high returns = red flag. Bitconnect’s promise of ~1% daily returns was outrageous. Any legitimate investment has risk and variability. If someone promises you steady, high income with no risk (especially in something as volatile as crypto), it’s almost surely a fraud.
• Transparency is essential in crypto. Real cryptocurrencies are transparent – you can examine the code, see transactions on the blockchain, and there’s often decentralization. Bitconnect was a black box “trading bot” operation. Investors weren’t shown evidence of the trading strategy or how returns were generated. Never trust a secretive “magic algorithm” that you can’t verify, especially if it asks for your money upfront.
• Take note of regulatory warnings or actions. When Texas and North Carolina regulators acted in early 2018, it was a huge warning sign. If a platform gets cease-and-desist letters, that’s your cue to get out (if not already out by then). Similarly, by late 2017 many credible figures in crypto were openly calling Bitconnect a Ponzi – pay attention to experts or journalists raising alarms.
• Diversify and don’t reinvest everything. Some Bitconnect users compounded their returns and kept their funds locked in the system to maximize gains – which meant when it collapsed, they lost all. It’s a reminder to periodically take profits in any speculative investment and not let greed keep you all-in until the very end.
• If you do fall victim to a scam, cooperate with authorities in investigations and claims. In cases like Bitconnect, the DOJ and SEC set up processes for victims to get some money back from recovered assets. It might not be a lot, but every bit helps. And your information could aid in prosecuting the perpetrators.

Conclusion: Staying Safe from Online Scams

The above scams – from bogus princes to crypto Ponzi kings – may differ in their specifics, but they share common themes. Scammers exploit basic human tendencies: greed, fear, loneliness, trust. They often present a sense of urgency or exclusivity (a “limited-time offer” or a “secret deal just for you”) to short-circuit our skepticism. They impersonate what we find authoritative or alluring, whether it’s a bank officer, a tech support agent, a prospective lover, or a visionary entrepreneur. By recognizing these patterns, we can better protect ourselves.

Key takeaways to protect yourself:

• If it sounds too good to be true, it probably is: This adage survives because it’s true. Unrealistic investment returns, windfall inheritances from strangers, perfect romantic partners who never want to meet – step back and scrutinize anything that seems improbably fortunate or lucrative.
• Verify independently: Don’t trust communications at face value, especially those involving money. Verify through a second channel. If your “boss” emails you a weird request, call them. If “tech support” contacts you, call the official company number yourself. If an online love asks for money, talk to a friend or do a video call (scammers will usually refuse).
• Educate yourself continuously: Scams evolve with technology. Stay informed about common fraud tactics (the FBI’s Internet Crime Complaint Center and the FTC regularly publish alerts). Awareness is your best defense – knowing about a scam makes you far less likely to fall for it.
• Secure your online life: Use strong, unique passwords and enable two-factor authentication on email and financial accounts. Many scams (like BEC or account takeovers) start with compromised emails. Good cyber hygiene can prevent criminals from exploiting you.
• Trust your instincts and take your time: High-pressure tactics are a red flag. Scammers want you to act first and think later. Whenever you feel rushed or uneasy, slow down. Scams often collapse under a bit of scrutiny – a quick Google search can reveal, “Is XYZ a scam?” with others’ warnings, or you might notice inconsistencies in the story when you ask questions.
• Report scams and share your experiences: If you’ve been targeted or victimized, you’re not alone. Report it to authorities – it helps build cases against scammers. And consider warning others in your community so the scam doesn’t spread. There should be no shame in being a victim; these fraudsters are professionals. By speaking up, you make it harder for them to strike again.

In the digital age, internet scams will continue to evolve, but the core lessons from the “top 10” biggest scams in history remain constant. Stay skeptical, stay informed, and remember that while technology changes, the fundamentals of fraud do not. An informed public is the greatest threat to scammers, and by learning from the past, we can secure a safer future online.

Sources: Many of the facts and figures in this article are drawn from law enforcement press releases, court documents, and investigative journalism. For example, the U.S. Department of Justice noted that OneCoin victims invested over $4 billion worldwide, and a Reuters report confirmed the figure and Ruja Ignatova’s FBI most-wanted status. The FTC’s data on romance scams reaching $1.14 billion in losses in 2023 highlights the growing scale of that issue. Meanwhile, the Wikipedia entry on advance-fee scams provides historical context and tragic victim stories for the Nigerian Prince scam. Each scam listed here has been widely reported; readers are encouraged to consult the cited references for more detailed information on each case.