For the last few weeks I’ve been receiving a handful of phone calls every day from the same few numbers. It just feels like I’m in some kind of bad advert!
Here’s the script for a fictitious government ad campaign on data privacy:
Int. day. A small home office. Emails are flying, deals are being made, code is being written, coffee is being drunk. Suddenly a vibrating iPhone flashes up an incoming call. “Hold that thought” is instant messaged to someone in San Francisco.
A man’s thumb hits the ‘answer button’ and lifts the iPhone to his ear.
(Slightly too much silence and a bit of delay)
Anonymous Bangladeshi: “Hello, can I speak to Steefarn Le… Lieu… Lieuwarnskee?”
Man: “Yes - speaking”.
(Click) - the phone goes dead.
Man looks confused and looks at his iPhone. Returning to his instant messenger client he sees the message “Sorry man - I’m going to have to go with the other guys, I don’t have time to waste!”
A fist strikes the table sending the iPhone scattering to the floor.
Cut to Int. Evening. Same office, Man is dressed differently. He is typing furiously whilst web-streaming himself checking emails on a different computer. The iPhone (now slightly scratched) vibrates again. This time the words ‘Spam’ appear on the screen. The room darkens, and Man’s eyes focus into a look of singular intent.
Sweet Northern Lass (spritely): “Hi, is that Mister Stefan Liewanskee?”
Man (cold): “Yes, speaking.”
Lass: “Hi this is Sophie, I’m calling from Halifax First Assist! How are you doing this evening?”
Man (colder): “Good thanks”
(pause, sensing trouble)
Lass: “What it is, I’m phoning you to let you know about a special service that we’re offering just for Halifax customers called ‘Life Insurance’ that we think you’ll be interested in. But first I just need to confirm your identity so could you just confirm your Date of Birth?”
Cut to ext. Apocalyptic Sunset. London on fire. 50 story-high Large Fat Man in a Chicken Suit jumping up and down on the Houses of Parliament, with one hand gripped around a teetering Big Ben. Artillery is going off left right and centre aimed at the Large Fat Man who shrugs it off. Children are crying, pedestrians are running, the army is out with tanks trained on the Large Fat Man. Sirens are going off!
Suddenly he pulls out an oversized megaphone a huge placard reading “STOP”.
Large Fat Man in a Chicken Suit (screaming): “Stooooooop! Don’t give out your details to anyone you don’t know!”
Close up of Large Fat Man in a Chicken Suit staring imploringly at the camera. Slightly too long edit.
Cut back to office. Still night. Spotlight shines on Man and background noise fades to silence.
Man (purposeful): “No. I don’t think so.”
Spotlight cuts out, reverting sound and light to normal. Fade sound to background over man ad libbing a coherent rant about how Sweet Northern Lass should quit her job and go and do something purposeful with her sad short existence.
Overlay graphics with voiceover:
Remember: Say no to strangers.
Ends.
Back to the real world
If you receive any phone calls from anyone claiming to be Halifax First Direct they are under investigation at the moment for either being a scam to gain personal details or a ’scrape data and sell’ outfit for a disreputable nuisance-calling insurance company. It’s not really clear which.
[Update: looks like it's not a scam - just a bad PR own goal. A lot of people have been receiving irritating phone calls like these from Halifax First Assist, often tens of times per day. They're often cut off before anyone speaks and repeatedly call back. Many people don't know how to stop them and are getting frustrated and angry.]
The numbers that they may be calling on include:
But they can change numbers all the time.
Their business model
- Get a database of numbers from somewhere. [Update: Apparently from their other businesses when you ticked or didn't tick an 'opt in' box]
- Set up an autodialling service so that random numbers are dialled every few seconds.
- When one of these numbers is answered, patch them through to Random Bangladeshi (cheap labour).
- Get them to confirm that the name on their database is correct and then put the phone down abruptly.
- Wait a couple of days then add that number to a ‘data clean list’ for numbers that ‘are who they say they are’.
- Start the autodialling process again.
- When the number is answered patch them through to Sweet Northern Lass (more expensive but can do the convincing job).
- Hard-sell the person on the end of the line some useless service or product using a ‘verbal contract’ that is binding even though not in print (’recording for training purposes’ - rubbish, that’s for legal purposes). [Update: someone from Halifax got in touch saying "you don't know what you're talking about" in response to this. Care to elaborate then?]
- Put the phone down and repeat.
What can you do to stop it?
Register with the Telephone Preferential Service but it wouldn’t help you much in this case.
When you receive a call and don’t recognise a number, try to google them before answering. That’s a bit paranoid, but I’ve found it useful. Particularly a service called Who Calls Me that lists nuisance and scam calls.
When you get a call listen for the ’slightly too long bit of silence’ at the beginning and for a very ‘thin sounding’ phone line. These are telltale signs that you’ve been put through to someone at random via an auto dialler. The silence is the time it takes the system to realise it’s ‘got one! w00t!’ and to connect them to a human. If you hear that, just put the phone down.
In response to the question “Is that Mr. Your Name Here?” respond with “Who is calling please?” If they give you some crap about ‘I’m calling to update our records’ just tell them you’re not interested.
If in doubt pull the ‘deceased’ card. If you tell them convincingly enough that the person they are trying to reach has died they will remove you from the list.
Do you get those ‘totally silent’ calls? That’s because there aren’t enough humans to go round at that point, so it can’t connect you and just leaves you hanging. These are illegal and these Halifax First Assist guys have also been doing that. Report these numbers on Who Calls Me.
Don’t give out any information that they don’t already have. These people want your data for whatever reason and that has a price tag. Don’t give your info to anyone unless you know what company they represent.
Don’t give out your personal information before they give you something that you can confirm with them. This is called ‘challenge and response‘ (Like in spy films where they say “The red camel flies at midnight” and in response, “so the goose must take to the east”). If they really _are_ your bank they’ll be able to offer you some information back. Something like, my birthday was in 1972 - what day of the month was it? If they can’t answer then they are not your bank or don’t have an adequate data protection system in place.
The ideal system would be for all of our banks to have some kind of public password that you give _them_ so that if they phone up and say the word “chicken suit” in response to your question “what am I wearing” (or in fact a number of questions) then you can be a little surer they aren’t data thieves.
Ask to be removed from their database. This won’t help against the criminals but any commerical organisation would be unwise to keep ringing uninterested people.
Leave Halifax. I am going to. It’s just not done giving away my details to a company like this.
Give them grief. Don’t take this lying down. Get angry but not ferocious. Don’t swear or threaten but make them feel your wrath. Tell them that their client has now lost you as a customer and you will be moving banks. Tell them that they should quit their useless and pointless jobs and go and do something worthwhile with their time in this world. [Update: Someone _claiming_ to work for Halifax First Assist said this in response: "if u give us shit then we put u back in for callback after callback to piss u off so dont play with fire or ull get burnt."]
If you add up the number of wasted hours of people’s lives that companies like these generate I would not be surprised to find that it adds up to more hours than more than a handful of people spend on this earth. That’s an ugly business to be in.
There are enough rubbish jobs in the world to do, but I can’t think of many so utterly futile, pointless, soul-destroying and ultimately meaningless than what these people do day in day out.
I know. I’ve been on the other end of the line selling photocopier refills to uninterested office workers at sixteen. And what made me quit was someone telling me exactly that.
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