Catfish and conmen

It appeared to be a modern-day romantic tragedy.

Boy meets girl online. Boy and girl fall in love and start a relationship. Boy's grandmother tragically passes away. Hours later, boy's girlfriend loses her battle with leukaemia. Boy is heartbroken. He channels that heartbreak into winning the championship football game in honour of his lost loved ones.

But there is another twist in the tale.

Turns out the girl never existed (cue dramatic music). The girl that the boy, talented college footballer Manti Te'o, publicly grieved the death of was actually Ronaiah Tuiasosopo, a homosexual man who admitted to using a female identity as a means to develop a relationship with Te'o. Ouch.

What ensued was a media storm, during which the press and the public took sides - some empathised with the forlorn football star, while others accused him of somehow being involved in the scandal.

And Te'o's story is not unique. He is but one of many who have been fooled by fake online profiles.

The urban dictionary defines a catfish as someone who pretends to be someone they're not, using Facebook or other social media to create false identities, particularly to pursue deceptive online romances. The term was popularised by a 2010 documentary of the same name, which documents the truths and lies that epitomise the world of online dating.

'Catfish' the movie saw photographer Nev Schulman, like Te'o, find himself being duped by a person pretending to be someone else. Schulman met a pretty 20-something called Megan on Facebook. But Megan was actually Angela, a middle-aged mother of four.

The film earned critical and commercial acclaim, inspiring an MTV reality TV show, which sees Schulman and his friend Max Joseph travelling the US to help sad souls discover if that person they have been chatting to online is the real deal. And the stories that Schulman and his faithful sidekick have uncovered would keep even the most ardent soap opera fans on the edge of their seats.

Come on kids, didn't mom and dad teach you, if it looks and sounds too good to be true, chances are it probably is?

In one episode, Mhissy seeks revenge on Jasmine, who once got a little too friendly with her boyfriend. She does so by pretending to be Mike, using a fake Facebook profile and entering into a two-year romance with the unsuspecting Jasmine. In another, Sunny has an eight-month online tryst with model "Jamison", who turns out to be a bisexual teenager named Chelsea.

While I have no allusions about the fact that "reality TV" is far from being just that, if it is staged, I commend the writers, because the twists and turns in each online dalliance make for exceptionally entertaining telly. I constantly find myself gobsmacked that these lonely hearts are foolish enough to believe the person they meet online is actually a former Miss Teen USA or a successful model with a chiselled torso and a Colgate smile. Come on kids, didn't mom and dad teach you, if it looks and sounds too good to be true, chances are it probably is?

Attempts to prevent others from falling for these tricksters have brought about various apps and Web sites to allow online daters to check if BadBoy69 is actually the Nobel Peace Prize-winning, former Mr Universe and current doctor without borders that he claims to be.

Aretheyreallysingle.com taps into public records data to find out if the Mr Right has a missus at home. All you need to do is plug the person's name, surname and city into the platform. Admittedly, this could prove a tad tricky, as my catfish research has taught me that people who participate in Web-based deception have a tendency to come up with a fake identity when doing so.

Those who aren't bothered by their potential partner's relationship status, can click on over to AshleyMadison.com, a portal for people looking to have "discreet affairs". The site's tagline: "Life is short. Have an affair" makes it pretty clear what these morally upstanding folk are offering. And with more than 20 million users, it appears that stealthy extramarital activities are quite popular.

Another, potentially vindictive, service allows users to "rate" the people they have dated in the past. Called Lulu, the app is exclusively for women and serves as a forum for girls to learn a little more about their love interest, while also dishing the dirt on their exes. Users anonymously upload images and info from Facebook, allowing them to review and rate the guys they have dated or know, while sourcing the opinions of other women about the man they met in the bar on Friday night.

The app is touted as being a digital, boundless "girl talk" session, designed for intelligent women. CEO and founder of Lulu, Alexandra Chong, describes the app as a fun and light-hearted dating tool for women, and she hopes it will be used for good.

I have my doubts. As do others, who have described the Lulu app as an invasive and one-noted way for jilted women to get back at the men who wronged them.

The numbers reveal the convergence of dating and the digital world is only set to increase. The online dating industry went from a $900 million industry in 2007 to a $1.9 billion industry in 2012. An estimated 40 million Americans have tried online dating, and 20% of current committed relationships started online. It certainly does seem like a viable option for a population that is increasingly utilising digital means to connect with those around them.

But if you do plan to utilise online resources in your search for a model, Mormon or married man, my advice would be: approach with caution.