Con Men

The very first con artist

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On July 8, 1849, The New York Daily Herald published a fateful Sunday issue.

It started rather unpatriotically, with a front page full of news from across the Atlantic.

The French had just invaded Italy and were attacking Rome.

But the “effeminate,” “emasculate,”” and “degenerate” Italians, “upon whom it is the fashion to heap every stigma,” managed to repel the attack of the mighty French.

Further down the page, there was a revolution quashed in Paris.

The Berlin correspondent reported on military action against an uprising in Prussia.

In Ireland, things were quiet, and the Dublin correspondent simply wrote, “I have not any news of importance to communicate.”

With the grand European news covered, the Herald moved to smaller, more local matters.

First, there was an attack by Spanish pirates. Then a steamboat accident. Then theater news (“more dull than ever”).

Turning to page two, the Herald advised its readers of the arrival of the steamship Tennessee to town. Then it tallied up the progress of the cholera epidemic (67 new cases, 22 deaths). Next came sporting news (“the great trotting contest” at the Union Course race track).

And then, finally, deep in the middle of page 2, after several notices of curious deaths (an Irish woman had suffered “death by intemperance”), readers got to the “Police Intelligence” section.

That’s where our story starts. Because it was there that a small, insignificant, 351-word article appeared under the headline,

“Arrest of the Confidence Man”

This tiny article was the first known use of the term “confidence man” in English, which later gave us such terms as con man, con artist, and con game.

The Herald article told of a certain William Thompson, a “graduate of the college of Sing Sing.” Thompson had made a habit of stealing watches from wealthy New Yorkers, on the street, in broad daylight.

What was newsworthy was that Thompson didn’t steal through threats and violence, or through stealth and speed.

​​Instead, he stole in full view of his marks, calmly, with a big smile on his face, using just words.

Thompson’s con involved approaching a stranger on the street and starting a conversation. Then, after a few moments, Thompson would ask if the stranger had the confidence to lend him his watch for a day.

The crazy thing is it worked.

Contrary to all logic and reason, many marks did as Thompson asked. Thompson walked away, laughing, with the stranger’s watch in his pocket. One gold lever watch stolen in this way was worth $110 in 1849 money — about $4,300 today.

The story is so bizarre that it doesn’t quite sound real.

​​Sure, 1849 New York was a very different place from today. But strangers were still strangers, and valuables were still valuables.

Why would Thompson’s marks be so gullible? Why would they just do what they were asked to do? Why would they give their confidence to a complete stranger on the street after just a few moments of talking?

I’m hoping you can help me figure this mystery out.

​​I’m asking you because, if you’re interested in direct marketing and copywriting, I imagine you’re smart and well-read.

​​If you have any clues, hints, or ideas for me, write in and let me know. It will help me prepare a new book I’m working on. Thanks in advance.

The final bit of Jim Camp gossip

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This past Tuesday, I wrote a behind-the-curtain email about negotiation coach Jim Camp.

​​Camp is widely respected and cited as a negotiation authority. His ideas are quoted in books and on TV and by dudes like me.

But if you dig a bit, it seems most of Camp’s advice about negotiation was swiped, often verbatim, from sales trainer David Sandler.

Problem:

The claim that Camp swiped Sandler’s ideas is based on textual analysis, by looking at Camp’s book side by side with Sandler’s book. It could be just one hell of a coincidence, or maybe there’s some kind of other explanation than plagiarism.

Solution:

I got a reply to my email on Tuesday from a reader named Ron, with some first-hand experience. ​​I’m reprinting it here in full because it’s juicy, and because there’s an interesting bit of human psychology hiding on the surface of it.

​​Take it away Ron:

===

Thank you John, I’ve tried to tell the same stories to the IM crowd for years and no one seemed to notice.

For a backstory, I took his Camp Negotiation coaching program back in 2009 and it was pretty silly, just a guided text followed by a quiz website (basically rereading the book to you), and my “advisor” was Jim’s oldest son.

At the end of the course, ironically, the module was “no closing” and it was on how closing sales was so 1950’s and you should just ask what do we do next and the prospect should tell you they’re in.

Well after finishing the course, his son called me to show me their new software (which was just a clunky CRM and with little negotiating tips pop-ups to remind you of the techniques) and after the demo, he tried to get me to buy it and I said no thanks.

He goes all weird and tells how I’m going to miss out on all these profitable deals and blah blah blah, and he’s getting pretty aggressive. I chuckled and said “so, no closing right?” He got all butthurt and hung up.

Anyways, I later found out Jim Camp was a franchisee for Sandler (the sales training business was sold city to city as a franchise model) and when his contract was up, Jim just rewrote the book and made up his own terms and sold his programs that way.

===

So there you go. That’s the gossip. I can’t confirm or deny the franchisee part of it. All I can say is it makes sense to me personally. And with that, I’ll leave off this Sandler/Camp drama.

But what about that interesting bit of psychology I promised you? It’s there in Ron’s first sentence:

“I’ve tried to tell the same stories to the IM crowd for years and no one seemed to notice.”

This is a curious human quirk that I’ve noticed a few times before.

For example, back in the 1970s, a man named Uri Geller seemed to be blessed with the supernatural powers of telekineses and telepathy. Geller was making the rounds of TV talk shows, bending spoons and reading the insides of sealed envelopes.

Audiences watched with their mouths agape, certain that Geller was living proof that there’s more to life than we see, and that there are enormous untapped powers latent in all of us.

Then Geller was exposed as a fraud by a magician named James Randi.

Randi replicated Geller’s act completely. He also worked with TV producers of the Tonight Show to devise a scenario where Geller couldn’t do of his supposed telekinesis or telepathy.

Geller came on the show, unaware of what was going on. And for 20 awkward minutes, while Johhny Carson patiently smoked his cigarette and waited, Geller tried and failed to do his usual routine.

And the result?

Nothing. Geller’s fame, and people’s belief in his supernatural powers, remained untarnished.

You can draw your own conclusions from this, in particular about how it relates to marketing and money-making and persuasion.

I’ve drawn my own conclusions. And the most important and valuable one is the one I wrote about in the inaugural issue of my Most Valuable Postcard, two years ago. If you’d like to find out what that is:

https://bejakovic.com/mvp1/

How to hide secrets in plain sight using an ordinary razor

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Sleight-of-hand artist Ricky Jay studied card cheats, because cheating at cards is a sister discipline to close-up magic.

Jay once did an entire evening for a few friends, showing various card-cheating techniques. At the end of it, he also told a story.

The story involved a poker player who, when it was his turn to deal, reached into his coat and took out a straight razor.

He opened up the razor, made it glint in the light to show how sharp it is, and put it down in front of him on the poker table.

He then slowly looked around the table at every other player. And he said, with menace in his voice, “There will be no cheating in this game.”

Newsflash:
​​
I don’t like playing poker. I’m also not a magician. I can’t do even do a single basic card trick.

I got interested in magic, and by extension card cheating, because I felt there was something about a magician’s misdirection that’s common to copywriting and effective communication in general.

When most people think misdirection, they think somebody waving a red scarf somewhere in the corner of your eye so you look away, and so you don’t see the secret action.

And that is one kind of misdirection. But there are many more kinds.

A good card cheat, magician, or just effective communicator, can do his secret trick right in front of you, without ever diverting your gaze. In fact, he can even make a big deal of the mechanism behind the secret trick, drawing your attention to it.

Which brings us back to the razor on the table. It’s an old card cheater’s trick known as “the shiner.”

The shiner can be a razor, like in the story above, or a large flat ring on the hand, or even a smart phone in more modern times, lying on the poker table.

The key is simply that the it’s an object that makes sense in that given context. It also has to be shiny, so the cheater can use it to get a quick glimpse of the underside of each card as he deals.

So now you know how to hide secrets in plain sight using an ordinary razor… or hairbrush (Parris Lampropoulos)… or gold necklace (Gary Bencivenga).

In other news, voting for the Best Daily Email Awards continues furiously. Today’s email will be the last email I send out before the deadline to cast your vote, tomorrow at 8:31pm CET.

If you know what I’m talking about, get voting so you don’t miss the deadline. And if you don’t know what I’m talking about, here are the details from my email yesterday:

===

I would like to announce the formation of the Best Daily Email Awards.

This is a new yearly award for merit in the daily email format.

Each year, the Best Daily Email Awards are selected by the prestigious and exclusive Daily Email Academy, which you are a member of by virtue of being a reader of this newsletter.

If you would like to nominate a particular daily email for a Best Daily Email Award, simply forward it to me before this Sunday, July 28, at 8:31pm CET.

Any daily email by any brand or person, in any market or niche, is eligible. You don’t need to explain your reasoning for nominating this particular email. The only restriction is you may only submit one entry, and that it’s actually a daily email.

And then, I, as the current acting Director of the Daily Email Academy, will collect the results, and announce the winners at the inaugural prize ceremony next week.

And yes, I’m 100% serious about this. So start forwarding now.

How to buy the jury in the courtroom

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Legend says the greatest con man ever done lived was Joseph Weil, aka The Yellow Kid.

Starting at age 14 and up to his death at age 100, The Yellow Kid conned thousands of people and stole millions of dollars.

​​Fine, so did lots of other con men.

But even among con men, who are known for their understanding of human nature, the Yellow Kid was unique.

For example, The Yellow Kid spent very little of his 100 years in jail. That’s because he could buy a jury like he was buying a Snickers bar.

Most of the time, the Yellow Kid would bribe a juror outside the courtroom — at dinner, during lunch, in the bathroom.

But the Kid could even buy the jury right in the courtroom, during the trial, right under the judge’s nose.

How?​

​​​From the mouth of one of the Kid’s colleagues:

“The Kid would pick out a soft guy in the jury and smile at him. If he smiled back, he’d be the guy. Then Yellow would wink at the juror and pass some money to another grifter so that the juror could see it. Then he’d wink again, and if the juror winked or nodded, the fix would be in.”

I’m not a grifter or a con man.

I’m also nowhere near as quick on my feet The Yellow Kid was.

But I have used the same strategy he used.

I’ve used it safely, legally, and you might even say ethically. ​​

I’ve used the Yellow Kid’s technique in my emails, to figure out which offers to create and promote.

A smile… rubbing some money together in my hand… a wink.

The fix would be in — an offer that’s almost guaranteed to succeed.

If you want to know the details of what I done, I’ll talk about it on Thursday during Daily Email Fastlane.

This is a workshop all about sending daily emails for your personal brand.

Daily Email Fastlane is built around the common elements I’ve seen in three very successful daily emailers I’ve coached. Plus, I’ll also include some of the best advice I gave them, the above courtroom “smile and wink” technique being one of them.

If you wanna sign up for Daily Email Fastlane, the deadline is this Wednesday at 8:31pm CET, less than 48 hours from. To get in before the deadline:

https://bejakovic.com/daily-email-fastlane

I stand accused of pulling the prat-out on a reader

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A few months ago, I wrote an email about the “prat out,” a technique used by con men to get their marks salivating and eager for larceny.

​​I sent that email out and then also put it on my bare-bones, zero-images, black-and-white website. And I forgot all about it.

Until this morning that is, when I got the following message from a new reader, who wrote:

===

Im now about six years into designing and developing websites.

Your website just fucked my mind.

I was reading a book by Iceberg Slim, he talked about the prat out.

I had no idea wtf that was and found your article.

After reading, i realized that you just pulled the prat-out on me and I’m now much more ready to give you my money. You sneaky fucker.

But i forgive you because you just taught me how much can be done with just words.

I haven’t left your website for an hour. I’m fascinated by what you do with just words. Nothing else is needed. The words create the colors, images and shapes in my head.

As a designer, its blowing my mind how much can be done with words alone and it has opened my mind to all kinds of new possibilities.

Thank you man.

===

No, thank you, kind anonymous reader who wrote in with a testimonial.

I bring this up 1) to feature a flattering testimonial and to encourage more of the same from other readers, and 2) to explain why I have not really been selling much of anything over the past couple weeks.

There are multiple reasons actually.

One is that I made enough money for my modest standards very early this month, thanks to the affiliate promo that Kieran Drew did of my Simple Money Emails course, and the new readers who came in the wake of that promo.

Another reason is that I have found that most of my sales do come via promotion events, whether that be a new launch, or me promoting an affiliate offer for a limited time, or somebody else promoting my offers for a limited time.

So one lesson I’ve learned is to regularly have such events if I hope to keep paying for rent and my daily supply of lentils and canned sardines.

At the same time, I’ve learned to cut myself some slack, and not force myself to shoehorn every daily email into a promotion of one of my existing offers.

​​Linking to something like an Amazon book (yesterday) or simply inviting a response (Sunday) keeps more of my readers reading to the end, and makes it more interesting for me since I can write about a broader set of stuff.

So in case you were curious why I’m linking to random stuff recently, now you know.

That said, it is important to remind readers of my offers from time to time so they can’t use the excuse, “Oh I didn’t even know!” to not buy.

And today, following a testimonial in which a reader says I pulled the prat-out on him, is a particularly good time to remind you of my best selling course, in terms of copies sold at least.

In case you’re curious, you can find out all about it here:

https://bejakovic.com/mve/

Can you identify this persuasion strategy?

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Yesterday afternoon, in a breakdown of all discipline and order, I decided to skip the gym, eat whatever sweets I could find around the house, and instead of working, download a movie to watch.

After all, Daniel Throssell was sending out emails to sell my Copy Riddles course. Money was coming in without me doing anything. So why not take a rare day off to loaf about?

The movie I downloaded was one of my favorites — The Sting.

​​I’d seen it 3-4 times already. But yesterday, I saw something new in it, something I want to share with you because it’s very relevant to persuasion and influence.

What I want to tell you requires a spoiler.

​​So if you’ve never seen The Sting before, it might be worth stopping this email right now, and coming back to it only when you’ve watched the movie yourself.

It’s worth it.

Not only does The Sting have Paul Newman and Robert Redford in the lead roles… not only did it win an Oscar for best film and best director… but it also has a sparkling script (which also won an Oscar) by a guy named David Ward, who was well-read in the techniques of conmen, and who also seems to have had an intuitive understanding of human psychology.

Are you still reading? Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Here goes:

The relevant scene is when Johnny Hooker, a lonely conman on the run played by Robert Redford, tries to pick up Loretta, a gruff waitress at the local diner.

Hooker has already talked to Loretta before. He knows she is as alone as he is, and that she’s only passing through town, another tramp like him.

He’s tried asking her out before. She shot him down cold. But Hooker gives it one more try.

He knows where Loretta lives. And one night, at 2am, when Loretta finishes her shift at the diner and goes home and turns on the light in her room, Hooker takes a deep breath, walks up to her building, climbs up the stairs to her door, and knocks.

Loretta cracks open the door. The following dialogue follows:

HOOKER: I was wondering if you might wanna come out for a while, have a drink or something.

LORETTA [indignant]: You move right along, don’t you?

HOOKER: Hey I don’t mean nothin’ by it. I just don’t know many regular girls is all.

LORETTA [still angry]: You expect me to come out, just like that…

HOOKER: If I expected something, I wouldn’t still be standing here in the hall.

LORETTA: I don’t even know you!

HOOKER: You know me. I’m just like you. It’s two in the morning and I don’t know nobody.

Loretta pauses at this. She gives Hooker a sad smile. She opens the door a bit wider, and moves aside to let him in.

So that’s the scene. Now here’s the spoiler:

Loretta is not actually a waitress at a diner. She’s actually a top level hitman, or hitwoman, working for a mob boss that Hooker fleeced by accident. She’s been hired to take Hooker out. She’s playacting her indignation, just trying to reel Hooker in so she can kill him.

In many ways, this is the essence of a confidence game. And sure enough, the pattern above repeats in different situations in the movie, with different characters, as they try to influence and con each other.

Now, since Daniel’s Copy Riddles promo is over, I have to get back to work. And I do have something to sell today. But it’s not something I want to sell to just anyone.

​​F​​or one thing, this thing I have to sell is too valuable to make available to anyone who wants it. For another, it requires more than money to profit from.

This thing I have for sale is probably not for you. But I’ll make you a deal:

Hit reply right now. Tell me the name of the persuasion pattern or strategy that the scene above illustrates. If you don’t know the name for it, then tell me in a sentence what you think is going on, on the level of persuasion.

​​I’ll give you a hint:

This pattern is also used regularly by pick up artists, salesmen, even by legendary copywriters.

So write in and tell me what you think it is.

If you get it right, it will tell me you might have it. In other words, you might actually profit from this thing I have for sale, so I’ll tell you more about that.

And if you don’t get it right, well, at least I’ll tell you what’s really going on throughout The Sting, and how it works in the real, non-con world as well. And maybe you can profit from that in some way.

The shutout or prat-out

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I’m now reading the Big Con, written in 1940. It’s all about con men playing the big con — not just street hustlers nickle and diming, but elaborate operations involving dozens of men, which took in $25k or $30k or even $50k at a time from a well-heeled mark.

​(​That’s the equivalent to $549k or $659k or $1.1M in today’s money.)

The Big Con is filled with quirky and unfamiliar lingo that describes techniques based on deep and familiar human psychology. One such term is the “shutout” or “prat-out.” From the book:

“He doesn’t know it, but he has been given the ‘shutout’ or the ‘prat-out,’ a clever method of stepping up the larceny in the veins of a mark when the manager feels that he is not entering into the play enthusiastically enough. It may be repeated several times so that the mark is fully impressed with what he has missed.”

The shutout or prat-out works like this:

The mark — let’s call him James Markham — gets acquainted with an affable, attractive man. Let’s call this second man John Conway, for he is a con artist.

Through various loops and intrigues, Conway convinces Markham that he has access to inside information on horse betting.

Conway gives Markham a tip on a sure-thing pony.

Markham bets.

And Markham wins. His excitement and greed flare up.

Conway feeds Markham another sure-thing tip. Let’s say Challedon to win in race 4.

Markham stands in line at the betting parlor to put down that bet before the race starts.

But there are a few people ahead of him in line. Unknown to Markham, all of them are part of the big con.

Each one is placing very large bets. It’s taking a long time. They finish one by one while Markham hops nervously from foot to foot, dreaming of the score he will surely make once he bets on Challedon in race 4.

Finally it’s his turn to place his bet. But right before he can hand over his money and tell the bookie which horse he wants to bet on, the announcer for race 4 says:

“And they’re off!”

It’s too late. Betting on race 4 is closed.

Markham listens to the race results as they come in. Challedon lags at the rear.

​​Markham listens with attention.

​​Challedon starts to move up. As the horses enter the home stretch, Challedon is in fourth place. But Challedon presses forward. Neck and neck through the finish line. Challedon wins!

​​And Mr. Markham sits there, stars in front of his eyes, calculating the small fortune he would have made had those bastards in line ahead of him been just a little faster with their bets.

Mr. Markham has been given the shutout or prat-out. He is now much more ready to be set up for the sting — to be separated from his $25k or $30k or $50k. That’s the equivalent to $549k or $659k or $1.1M in today’s money, in case you forgot.

But what’s really going on here?

And how can you use shutout or the prat-out in other, less larcenous fields of influence?

Perhaps it’s obvious to you.

Or perhaps I’ve given away too much in this email.

But if not, if there are valuable details you are unsure of or are still curious to learn, then you can find a full treatment of the underlying psychological principle in my Most Valuable Postcard #2, informatively titled the Ferrari Monster.

As I explained yesterday, I will retire MVP #2 tomorrow at 8:31pm CET.

The reason why, in case you’re curious:

As the name of it suggests, MVP #2 is really just the remains of my short-lived subscription offer, the Most Valuable Postcard, which I ran last summer.

MVP #2 should be a standalone course, with clearer positioning, with its own sexy name, with a bit more bulk, and with an extra zero or two in the price.

So I will retire it. Maybe I will bring the content back in the future, changed slightly and priced much higher.

But if you would like to get it before it disappears, at the current very affordable price, you can buy it today, of your own choosing, at the link below:

https://bejakovic.com/mvp2/

The Big Store

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I’m reading a book about con men. Ben Marks was one of them. His specialty was three-card monte, hustling cattlemen and miners and soldiers in the streets of Cheyenne.

Marks was good. He’d regularly make $5, $10, sometimes $25 by fleecing some greedy passerby on the street.

Marks made a living. But it was hardly a business. The streets of Cheyenne were too busy and too crowded and there was too much competition. Saloons offering booze. Hotels offering gambling. Brothels offering love.

So Marks hit upon a novel idea.

Why not open his own establishment? Get people to come to him? Do away with the competition?

It’s a concept that became known as the Big Store.

The Big Store became a key part of the big con. A fancy gambling club, or a brokerage house, or in Marks’s case, The Dollar Store — everything for a dollar, including some very attractive and expensive goods, displayed colorfully in the store windows.

But when a prospect stepped inside The Dollar Store, he’d see several lively monte games already in play, with Marks’s shills and “sticks” in place of real gamblers.

The new prospect forgot about the attractive merchandise.

He left The Dollar Store some time later, not having bought anything for $1. But he did leave behind a wad of cash nonetheless.

I’m not encouraging you to grift, conning, or crime of any sort. But I do tell you the above because:

1. The basic idea is usable in non-criminal ways also. Think, how can I get them to come to me? How do I do away with the competition and other distractions?

2. “Get them to come to you, instead of going to them” might sound like a simple, familiar, or even trivial idea. But it’s not one you should dismiss. Marks’s Big Store was the innovation that created the big-money confidence games that netted $75,000 or $100,000, instead of $25 hustles in back alleys and on train cars and street corners.

Do you wanna see a Big Store in action? Here’s a clip (no spoilers) from The Sting, one of my favorite films:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VYjyFQS3DWM