by Rob Perez
Columnist

Regular readers know I dislike cryptocurrency. I’m not alone. Warren Buffett dislikes cryptocurrency. Which means that on matters of finance, I stand shoulder to shoulder with one of the greatest investors in history.

Granted, Buffett arrived at his conclusion after decades of studying markets and businesses. I arrived at mine because the people I know trying to convince me to buy crypto lack what I would call judgment.

I knew people could lose their shirt buying crypto. I did not know they could lose their life savings trying to buy crypto.

Last week I learned about something called pig butchering. If you’ve never heard of it, don’t worry. You’re 5 minutes behind me. It’s a relatively new scam and I’ll give you a hint: you’re the pig.

The scam usually begins in a place you already spend time: social media, a dating app, or LinkedIn. Yes, scammers know the value of networking. A stranger contacts you. A conversation begins. In a romantic comedy, we call this the meet cute.

Days become weeks. Weeks become months. The stranger is friendly. Interested in your life. They remember details. They ask about you. And one day this stranger is now your friend.

The old scams were impatient. A Nigerian prince wanted your money. A computer technician wanted your money. The IRS wanted your money. The old scams wanted some of your money now. The new scams want all of your money and they’re willing to wait six months before asking you for it.

That’s right. These scammers spend six months getting to know you first. They listen to you. They laugh at your jokes. They earn your trust. Turns out, they’re more attentive than anyone else in your life. Because you’re special.

Then one day they casually mention they recently turned a modest investment into a suitcase full of money. Are you in the market for such a suitcase?

You invest a small amount. And something remarkable happens. You make money. The money leaves your account. It comes back to your account. A little bigger. The first investment works. The second investment works. The third investment works.

At this point a little voice appears in your head. The voice says, “What if I am a financial genius?” This voice has ruined many lives. Everything’s going swimmingly.

Until you try to withdraw your money.

Suddenly there are fees. Taxes. Processing charges. That’s right. In order to get your money, you have to send more money. Naturally, you suggest they deduct the fees from your account—which is substantially larger than when you started.

They explain it doesn’t work that way. Something about regulations.

So you borrow money to send to your money to, well, get your money. It’s right there in an account that, funny thing, isn’t actually yours.

How come I’ve never heard of pig butchering? Partly because they don’t write about this in Highlights Magazine. But also because of embarrassment. It’s embarrassing to lose your shirt in crypto. It’s devastating to figure out your friend was fake, the crypto exchange was fake, and your money, which was real, is gone. Suddenly, you’re a very private person. It’s not easy to tell your best friend about your other best friend from the internet.

The scam works on trust. The silence works on shame.

The more I learned about pig butchering, the less it seemed to expose human stupidity and the more it seemed to expose human optimism. The desire to trust. The desire to grow. The desire to build a better future. Which brings me back to crypto.

Ah, we meet again.

I never liked crypto. Warren Buffett never liked crypto. My favorite Nobel Prize-winning economist calls crypto a solution in search of a problem. But in pig butchering, crypto isn’t really the scam. The relationship is the scam. Crypto is just the receipt.