The women behind the Tinder Swindler case showed us the risks, but we’re still not listening

Cecilie Fjellhøy stopped me in my tracks. I was listening to one of my favourite podcasts, where Fjellhøy, who was defrauded by one of the most notorious romance scammers was talking about how this happened. Fjellhøy has since become a well-known public speaker, frequently sharing her story, and campaigning to prevent this from happening to others.

On a crisp morning in January 2018, Fjellhøy met a man who went by the name Simon Leviev for a coffee in London.

Four years later, her and Pernilla Sjöholm had the cruelty they faced broadcasted to the world.

The man, who’s real name is Shimon Hayut, has defrauded women all over the globe. To the tune of ten million. $250,000 of those loans were applied for in Fjellhøy’s name.

The story of The Tinder Swindler had me in a chokehold from the first second of that famous Netflix documentary. It essentially sparked an obsession with the types of fraud people do. Mostly in the one that is as old as time: romance fraud. In the age of AI, social media and data apps, romance fraud is a “multi-billion dollar cybercrime”.

“I applied for it, it was way too easy, two days later I got it. I didn’t need any documentation to get that platinum card. I wish it wasn’t that easy”

Fraud is always personal, even when it isn’t. Anyone can be a victim; anyone can fall for it. The things I find so academically fascinating about romance fraud is that people are chosen as victims because of qualities like empathy and generousity.

Fjellhøy and Sjöholm have recieved horrid backlash from strangers on the internet, being trolled for being “gold diggers” and for “falling for” the romantic gestures and attention Hayut put their way. But Hayut didn’t give them loads of luxurious gifts.

Although he lived a lavish lifestyle, the main thing that kept him believable and attractive was that he was texting back, he was interested, and he was consistent. And the chaos of his personal life made him even more believable. The actual private jet he flew them in made them feel he would pay them back.

There are many things that go through my mind when I think about this specific romance fraud. Quite frankly, the first thing is that the admin involved in pretending to be in love with multiple people sounds completely exhausting. Fjellhøy said that Hayut had a pen and paper notebook which never left his side; and this was the notebook where he kept notes on every woman he was talking to and how much money he had coerced them into giving him.

But the main thing is that surely someone, somewhere, across the 9 banks and American Express, noticed a red flag somewhere?

“I applied for nine loans in fifty four days”

Two hundred thousand dollars of loans. In fifty four days. From nine different credit providers. And this behaviour was extremely out of character.

So why did no one spot it? Out of character behaviour. Nine applications in a short period of time. All of the loans moving through one bank account. If the FCA’s new Consumer Duty is for anything, it’s for moments like this. Good outcomes for customers. Real care for people who might be vulnerable, including those under coercion. In this case, the forms were complete and the boxes were ticked, but the outcome was not good. Nine loans in fifty four days is is not a green light. That is a hand on the brake and needs a person who can say, “tell me what is going on”.

Romance scams are the most common because of what they do well. They turn love, fear and urgency into a to-do list. You ring the bank. You increase the limit. You apply for the next card. You tell yourself it is temporary. You borrow credibility from little signals that feel safe. A photo. A ticket. A video call from an airport. You patch the gaps in the story because you want it to be true. That is not stupidity. That is human.

But there were so, so many touchpoints between Fjellhøy and the financial services she used. So, so many chances.

Tech companies cannot prevent romance fraud from happening. It is an incredibly human thing to fall in love. But we can spot the signs. Many applications or rapid limit changes in a tight window should not be a green light to speed someone through.

For me, in my service design brain, as a business that verifies identity so that identity can be used to access finance, work, or a home, the velocity of verifications would be a major red flag.

That velocity, combined with the unusual travel narratives, and daily calls to raise limits, and repeated contact about limit increases and account changes should have been enough.

But hindsight is 20/20, and I believe that, as an industry, we have a responsibility to be using the reflections of people like Fjellhøy and Sjöholm to do better.

These patterns aren’t invisible. If you’re thinking about how your fraud controls could do more, I’d love to hear from you: chloe@vouchafe.id.