Read the Fine Print

They seem innocent enough, pads of paper around a display in the aisle at the mall promising a free chance to win the experience of a lifetime – a $59,900 sweepstakes. No purchase is necessary; just fill out the form. It must be very tempting because it looks like about an inch of forms has been torn off from each of six pads.

The forms ask for name, address, phone number, email, age, income, marital status and spouse’s name. That information was once considered somewhat private, but now people apparently are very willing to give it away for free for a chance to win about 60 grand. But they have a better chance to get something else, something much less desirable.

The bottom of the form under the signature line reads: “I consent to receive phone calls, including prerecorded messages and text messages from Promoters at the phone numbers/wireless numbers/addresses above regarding their offers, products and services, including through an automated dialing system.” That’s right, they are voluntarily signing up for the kind of irritating spam messages that everyone is complaining about and demanding action from Congress! They are giving permission to be pestered by robots about time-share opportunities!

Wow! All that personal information must be worth a lot more than $60,000 to the “Promoters.” (The other side of the sheet is filled with terms and conditions in very tiny font.)

Here’s another example. This comes at the end of a 4-page ad in a Sunday newspaper magazine section.

The ad is apparently for a clinic offering addiction recovery services including detoxification. (As soon as I saw reference to detox, I was skeptical; but it acts as a lure for others.)

At the very end of words and pictures showing how wonderful it is, at the very bottom of the page it begins with,  “The images herein are for illustration only.” The images are of happy people. Further on it says that the company “does not guarantee, warrant nor represent successful completion of its program for any of its clients. Results vary by individual, and [the] program may not be suited for everyone.” Then it goes on to say that they might not accept everyone in the program and gives some excuses about why the results for the ones accepted may vary. Finally, the company "is not responsible and expressly disclaims all liability for damages of any kind arising out of use, reference to, or reliance on any information contained in this advertisement.” It directs readers to a website.

Basically, that translates into “maybe and maybe not.” After three-and-a-half pages of happy talk, this is something of a letdown. The company doesn’t promise anything. And they are very adamant about that non-promise. If a client goes through the program and does not get the results expected, it’s not the company’s fault. I would be willing to bet that the first requirement upon entering such a facility is to sign a page or two of documents acknowledging understanding of all their disclaimers.

Part of this song and dance about not being responsible may raise suspicions about the effectiveness of the treatment, but another part must be attributed to a typical reaction among Americans who are disappointed – blame someone else and take them to court. Nevertheless, reading the fine print and all the disclaimers before entering into any agreement leads to better decisions. If it looks too good to be true, guess what.

As the world gets more fast-paced and complex, it becomes of greater importance to pay attention to details. People trying to sell us things, whether it be services, products or ideas, have more tools to trap the unsuspecting and more lawyers to separate them from whatever consequences they may experience for their questionable decisions.