Why Am I Working So Hard Not to Get Scammed?

There are days I feel like my full-time job is simply not getting phished, ripped off or cloned.

Before I can check a message on Facebook, I’m verifying my identity. When I try to log in to my bank account, I’m texted a six-digit code, asked to prove I’m not a robot, and quizzed like I’m being interrogated by the FBI. “Which of these images show a fire hydrant?” they ask, as if I’m trying to access a nuclear launch code and not just check my savings account.

Maybe my dog should see this

When did I become responsible for securing the digital fortress?

Why am I doing all the heavy lifting, jumping through digital hoops, remembering passwords I’ve been told not to write down, managing password managers, confirming I am me again and again and again?

Since when is it normal that a computer makes me prove I’m not a computer?

Shouldn’t the scammers be the ones sweating?

Instead, they sit back and write a few lines of phishing code or fake a customer service phone call — and suddenly I’m spending 30 minutes disputing a charge, resetting my credentials, and trying to figure out whether I’m being too paranoid or not paranoid enough.

All this anxiety-inducing business is wreaking havoc on my bar bill.

The Burden Shift

Glitch, please

There’s a term for this kind of nonsense: security fatigue.

According to a 2016 study by the National Institute of Standards and Technology (NIST), users are increasingly feeling overwhelmed by security protocols and are more likely to engage in risky behavior simply because they’re exhausted by the complexity of “safe” behavior.

Think about that — the very systems designed to protect us are wearing us down so much that we give up on them.

This isn't just annoying. It's dangerous, and deeply ironic. We've created a security culture that prioritizes looking like we're secure over actually being secure — and that’s not just bad design, it’s bad faith.

A Quick History of This Madness

Soft Sell

It didn’t used to be this complicated. Once upon a time (say, 1995), your login credentials consisted of a username and a password. Done. No CAPTCHA. No two-factor authentication. No biometric scan of your retinas.

Of course, back then, there were fewer things to steal. You weren’t storing your entire financial history, social life, career, and emotional support

networks in a single cloud-based identity.

As the internet became more central to our lives, so did the value of stealing that digital identity. Cybercrime became more sophisticated, and companies — from banks to social media giants — began developing layers of security to prevent fraud. But here's the thing: instead of investing in infrastructure that made it hard for the bad guys, they made it harder for the users.

Ghost in the Machine

Let’s be honest: how many data breaches have you heard about in the last decade that were caused by you using a weak password? Almost none. But companies like Target, Equifax, Facebook, and Marriott — all massive institutions with supposed Fort Knox-level digital vaults — have suffered massive breaches affecting hundreds of millions of people.

And who paid the price? Us.

We get the credit monitoring services. We get the spam calls. We get the endless emails warning us that “out of an abundance of caution,” we need to reset our password — for the fifth time this month.

Inefficiency in the Age of Efficiency

Clone wars

What’s most infuriating is that all this tech — all these apps, these platforms, these “solutions” — were supposed to make life easier. We were promised frictionless interactions. Seamless access. Tap, swipe, go. Instead, we’ve ended up in a world where the only thing seamless is the way scammers can impersonate our loved ones in an AI-generated voice clone.

We spend so much time trying not to fall into digital traps, it’s easy to forget that we built this web to be navigated with freedom and ease. Instead, the experience is like navigating a minefield with a blindfold on. And every time something goes wrong, the message is the same: “You should have been more careful.”

That’s like locking all your doors, installing a home security system, hiding your valuables, and then getting blamed for a burglary because you didn’t also put a moat around your house.

The Moral Weight of Digital Life

This is bigger than just security. This is about who shoulders the burden in our technological lives. It’s about emotional bandwidth. Every two-step login, every email that might be phishing, every system update that might break your phone — all of it takes a toll.

And in the end, what are we left with?

Insecure

We’re not any safer — just more tired. More jaded. Less trusting.

We laugh at our parents for falling for phone scams or clicking weird links, but the truth is: we’re not doing much better. Scammers have gotten smarter, sneakier. The technology they use — from spoofed caller IDs to deepfakes — outpaces the safeguards we’re given. And the companies that build these systems? They mostly avoid real accountability by shifting responsibility onto us.

They say things like “you should have known better,” or “you should have enabled that new security feature buried in the seventh settings menu.”

Again: shouldn't they be the ones making this foolproof?

The Efficiency Paradox

As a student of efficiency, lean systems, and streamlined design, I find it especially maddening that technology — which was supposed to simplify our lives — has, in so many ways, made them harder.

Every alert, verification, and redundant check is a tax on my time and mental energy. In a perfectly designed world, I wouldn’t have to micromanage my digital life.

I should be able to look at my phone and say, “Book me a flight, order my lunch, pay my bills,” and trust that everything happens seamlessly in the background — like an assistant who knows me better than I know myself.

Yes, digital assistants do exist — Oracle has one, Google has several, and AI is now deeply woven into our digital lives. But let’s be honest: these tools are being layered onto a system that’s already bloated, outdated, and riddled with legacy tech held together by virtual duct tape.

We’re not evolving our digital infrastructure — we’re patching it. Adding AI to these systems often feels less like progress and more like giving CPR to a dinosaur. Maybe the answer isn’t to build smarter bots to navigate the mess.

Maybe it’s time to tear down the mess and build something new from the ground up — something secure, intuitive, and finally worthy of the word “efficient.”

Because that’s the promise we were sold. That’s what efficiency should look like. Instead, I’m locked in a constant battle with tools that were meant to free me. And if I have to click one more blurry picture of a stoplight just to prove I belong here, I might just walk away from the internet altogether.

Let me ask you a question...

How crazy does this make you?

Change Image

• 0%Not at all. I'm glad we have this in place
• 0%A little, but it's necessary
• 0%I'm like the Charles Manson of security protocols right now