A retired banker in Delhi, a man who had once been the gatekeeper of other people’s money, was held hostage without chains, without a cell. His phone was his prison. His jailers were faces and voices who had perfected the art of impersonating authority. For a month, he obeyed orders, sold his shares, transferred his savings, believing that he was under 'digital arrest'. By the time the spell broke, he was poorer by ₹23 crore. Robbed, not by someone holding a gun to his head. But by words, fake RBI letterheads, ‘arrest orders’ sent via WhatsApp, threats, and the invocation of unquestionable authority.
This is the new theatre of crime. The battleground is not the street, but the screen. And the casualties are quite often men and women who once taught us how to solve complex equations, balance cheque books, and make the right career choices. Over the past few years, the elderly have become an easy target because many of them have an ingrained respect for, and fear of, authority, especially the police uniform which they have always trusted and obeyed.
The recent move to an online world has also added to their vulnerability. Many of the elderly in urban areas now live alone. Their children have left for the US, Bangalore, or Gurgaon’s gated communities. Their homes are filled with the noise of the mobile phone that’s constantly selling them something, from plots of land in NOIDA to water purification services. So, when the dreaded call comes saying “this is the police, your Aadhaar card has been used for opening bank accounts that purchased arms for the Pulwama terrorist attack” — there is no one to laugh it off, no grandchild rolling their eyes saying, “Nani, it’s a scam.” Instead, there is panic. A potent drug, that demands obedience.
What happened to the retired banker is not unique. His case unfortunately just happens to be the largest elder cyber-scam in the city. In the US, seniors have lost $3.4 billion to scams last year. In Japan, criminals perfected the “It’s me” scam, preying on the elderly who rushed to rescue grandchildren they thought were in trouble. Scammers are finding the fault lines in societies around the world. In India, the deepest fault line is deference – the uniform's authority cannot be doubted. The state must be obeyed.
The government's digital drive, and the many private apps that address peoples fundamental need to stay in touch, or informed, has meant that many of the elderly have also become a part of this online universe – be it banking, paying bills and taxes or the ‘good morning’ WhatsApp messages to wish the family! While it is no one’s case that we need to clamp down on the ubiquitous apps and the digital universe, what we are missing is a risk mitigation plan to reduce the vulnerability of our elderly.
In the UK, the “Take Five” campaign tells people to stop, think, breathe before parting with money. In Japan, bank clerks have been trained to question elderly customers making unusual transfers. These campaigns have been so successful that they’ve almost become a part of people’s muscle memory. We need a comprehensive plan that covers a gamut of activities -- from creating awareness about the modus operandi of scammers, to educating people on the right response if they believe they’ve been scammed. What stops us from carpet-bombing the country with a simple campaign that says the police or investigative agencies will never call you on the phone to accuse you of such serious crimes? They will never ask about your savings and assets or ask you to transfer funds to some strange accounts. If you hear those words, just hang up. Or remember the ‘golden hour’ here too – report cyber-fraud cases within an hour so that the police have a better chance of recovering your stolen money.
The law too must help create stronger guardrails. Cyber fraud targeting elders should be treated as an aggravated offence, carrying stricter penalties than ordinary online scams. Just as we created special protections for children and women against certain crimes, we must now do so for our elderly. Only then will predators think twice before dialling their next victim.
India is on the cusp of a demographic transition that has largely escaped our attention. By 2030, more than 200 million Indians will be above 60, growing to 347 million by 2050. What kind of India do we want to create for this section of our society? Should they spend the rest of their lives terrified of technology? Or happily engage in the digital world, secure in the knowledge that the state will stand between them and the vultures out there? Surely, they deserve the ability to maintain their dignity in the digital world too.
Else how long will it be before your parent, your neighbour, or you become the next Mr Malhotra?
(The author was the Associate Director at the Rajiv Gandhi Institute for Contemporary Studies and is now an independent policy consultant.)
