Are you – or do you know personally — a content creator? If so, it’s possible that you’ve seen or received the same type of pitches I’m about to expose. Over the last few months, on top of the recruitment pitches (see my blog post here) that end up being an invitation to spend my money for a fictional job offer, I have received a gaggle of assorted solicitations that present themselves in a positive slant but inevitably end up with a bill to pay. These solicitations fall into three broad types: the pay‑to‑play “global leader” conclave, the missionary‑framed industry awards, and the post‑hoc book prize — all of them trading on recognition as a product rather than a consequence of merit. The combination and shared pattern inherent in these solicitations suggest that we all need to raise our scamdar (scam radar)!
The Dubai “Global Icons of Impact” conclave
The first bogus email arrived as an “Exclusive Invitation” to a two‑day event branded as “The Global Icons of Impact – NEXT Conclave” at a major hotel in Dubai. The tone is grandiose from the outset: it promises a programme that “brings together global leaders, innovators, and industry changemakers” for insights, recognition and “high‑value networking.” My role is presented as that of a “select leader,” with the implication that some opaque vetting process has concluded I belong among these icons.
The body of the message meticulously itemises the benefits: on‑stage award recognition, an “Excellence Award Trophy,” access to keynotes and fireside chats, professional photography and videography, red‑carpet interviews, a full cover story feature in their business magazine (digital and print), a profile on the summit website and brochure, and extensive post‑event media coverage. Day two adds a gala dinner, curated networking, arrival photoshoot and social media spotlights. Only after this cascade of flattery does the crucial detail appear: a participation fee of USD 3,500, which “includes” all of the above.
In other words, the “award” is inseparable from the purchase of a comprehensive PR package. There is no notion of applying, being shortlisted, or winning on merit; the award is bundled with services and sold at a fixed price. The mal intention lies not simply in charging for an event, but in blurring the line between editorial recognition and paid exposure — an ambiguity amplified by the smooth, template‑like language that feels ripe for AI generation.
The podcast awards: industry uplift with entry fees attached
A second set of messages comes from a podcast awards organisation (Signal Awards) positioning itself as mission‑driven and curatorially serious. The outreach includes multiple contacts: one from a general manager introducing herself personally, another from a colleague following up with additional details, and references to a “Judging Academy” made up of “architects, instigators and trailblazers of the medium.”
The framing here is less overtly transactional. I’m told that my show could be “a great fit” and that the programme is focused on “uplifting the podcast medium by recognizing the most potent, meaningful and unprecedented audio projects being made today.” The emails highlight well‑known names from LinkedIn, Patreon, BBC, YouTube and PRX as judges, and invite me to explore categories and past winners.
Yet underneath the rhetoric of uplift and community lies a familiar structure: I am being encouraged to “enter the awards this season,” which in practice means submitting my work into a paid awards pipeline. The initial contacts are warm and personalised, but noticeably generic in their praise — they don’t refer to specific episodes, themes or contributions. The pattern is a softer version of pay‑to‑play: the recognition remains contingent on a fee and a submission process, while the outreach is optimised (and almost certainly automated) to make that process feel like a bespoke invitation.
The book prize: retroactive recognition as a marketing funnel
The third type of solicitation arrives not as an invitation, but as an announcement: “Exciting news! Your book has been selected for a Maincrest Media Book Award.” Unlike the Dubai email or the podcast awards, this one skips straight to the outcome: I’m already an award‑winner, with no prior correspondence or visible competition.
The structure of the message is telling. It unfolds in numbered steps: first, “Access the Maincrest Media Prize Package,” described as a tool to help me “promote your book award in an effective way, build trust and establish your authority with readers.” Second, “Access Your Judge’s Assessment,” pitched as a marketing asset to help me build relationships in the publishing community. Third, “Share!” — encouraging me to use a dedicated winner’s page and social media hashtags like #maincrestmedia and #bookaward to showcase my work and amplify the prize.
Here, the award functions explicitly as a marketing service. The value proposition is not the judgement itself, but the toolkit: badges, landing pages, and copy I’m expected to deploy on my channels. The email has boilerplate text explaining that I’m receiving this because I “applied” to the programme (which I didn’t). Once again, the language is polished and modular, the kind of thing that can be churned out at scale by AI systems tuned to maximise click‑through rates and social sharing.
For book authors, the other scam revolves around “your book has been selected to be shared in our book club with X number of readers.” Of course, it ends up saying that I get to pay to “present” to them. Oy vé.
Shared patterns: AI‑scaled flattery and purchased prestige
Taken together, these three solicitations reveal a coherent ecosystem. Each one leverages the language of exclusivity — global icons, trailblazers, selected winners — without offering transparent criteria or evidence of genuine familiarity with the work being “honoured.” Each one steers the recipient into a transactional funnel: pay to attend and be awarded, pay to enter and be judged, or accept an award whose value lies in a set of promotional assets.
Crucially, they all rely on highly generic yet smoothly tailored copy. The salutations, mission statements and benefit lists feel interchangeable, with only a handful of variables (name, book, podcast) swapped in. That is precisely the sort of content large language models now produce on demand: plausible, enthusiastic and personalised at negligible marginal cost. AI doesn’t just support these schemes; it enables their scalability, allowing a small operation to impersonate a global institution of recognition in thousands of inboxes. And, the kicker to each of these? Having not replied, I am often provided a reduced price, or delightful encouragements such as, ‘we have just extended the deadline” and .
What emerges is a new vanity economy where awards, conclaves and prizes are less about surfacing excellence than about selling the appearance of it. The danger is not just financial; it is cultural. When recognition can be purchased and flattery mass‑produced, the signals that once helped audiences and peers identify quality become noisy and unreliable.
Have you received in any such invitations or solicitations? Do you believe I’ve got it wrong and should be interested in these?
