The most successful scams are those that promise unimaginable riches that are imaginable by the vulnerable, and it may well be that this applies to all successful scams. Some are so primitive and comically unlikely that they succeed despite themselves, and that is the case with what is probably the most lucrative international scam ever, the Nigerian advance fee scam. Every Australian, surely, is aware of this extraordinary scam yet Australians still send money to Nigeria as bank fees for the transfer of mega millions of dishonest money into their bank account here.

It's as simple as wanting to believe that we're going to be rich, and because we want to believe some of us will believe. Much like, I suppose, the offer of everlasting and blissful life if you pay a tithe to the church. That's our vulnerability, a desperation to believe what we want to believe.

In my column in The Herald today I argue that the scammers' deception is not so far removed from retailers' deception, in that retailers too usually offer something that can't be delivered. For a car that might be success, respect, sex appeal and youthfulness, for a stove it might be adoring children and happy family. Even breakfast cereal offers a euphoria that won't be delivered. Maybe scams are better value than many of the offers of so-called respectable retail because they are often cheaper and usually produce an excitement and anticipation that last longer. I mean, it doesn't take an old man who's bought a Harley-Davidson more than an hour to realise that he's still just a silly old man on a Harley, but someone who's sent off $US39.95 to claim an overseas lottery win can be on top of the world for months.

Tell us of the scammers' and retailers' false promises that have convinced you to part with your money. Was it worth it? And if you're a Harley owner, how long did it take you to realise you'd been taken for a ride?