Shelley Bridgeman: Are your friends trying to make money out of you?

Gifting circles rely on peer pressure, secrecy - and women being prepared to rip off others and betray friendships. Photo / Getty

The Commerce Commission has declared "gifting circles" to be an "illegal pyramid scheme" and warns women to avoid them. In a gifting circle, women are initially invited to join a support and empowerment group. As an entry level member, each new woman gifts $7,000 to the woman at the top of her "circle". The dubious promise is that one day she will make it to the top level - and reap $56,000 herself.

There are supposed to be several operating in New Zealand but I've not been invited to join one. Mind you, I'd have run a mile at the suggestion of support and empowerment let alone the astronomical fee. And, anyway, the idea of people using friends and acquaintances to achieve financial advantage would have repelled me.

I can recall only three occasions when an ostensible friend has viewed me as more of a potential asset than an equal. Once was about twenty years ago when I was invited to a lunch at a private home. "How nice," I'd thought, imagining a long table full of women chatting and laughing. Instead, small groups of women were huddled in corners having separate, earnest discussions and swapping business cards.

Ugh! My heart sank. This was a networking lunch. All these women, maybe twenty of them in total, were intent on furthering their own business objectives. I know formal networking opportunities suit some personality types and communication styles but they make me feel uncomfortable.

There's something calculating and cynical about going through life deliberately considering what other people can do for you. I wolfed down some food, handed out one business card, thanked the hostess for the lunch and left. If I'd known the purpose of the occasion, I'd have avoided it.

Also many years ago, I'd invited four tennis friends to my place for a summer lunch. I must have mentioned this to another friend (who wasn't a tennis player). I didn't expect her to have much interest. I'd just been making conversation.

Imagine my surprise when a few days prior to the lunch, this woman pressed an envelope into my hand. It contained discount vouchers for her business. Her instructions were along the lines of: "Make sure you give one to each of your tennis ladies."

I was astounded. I hadn't been asked if this was okay. It had been presented to me as an order.

I didn't even consider ruining the conviviality by introducing a spot of commerce. It wasn't my style. It would have looked like the wine and platters were just a front for promotional activity. That someone else would attempt to hijack my event for their own purposes struck me as outrageous.

And, no, I didn't convey my dismay to the voucher woman. As is the way with people who practise guerilla marketing tactics, she'd caught me unawares. There'd been no time to collect my thoughts and prepare a response.

Those vouchers remained in the envelope and were never mentioned again. For the record, they were vouchers for some sort of cellulite treatment. Can you imagine handing out these to four ladies lunching? ... "By the way, while you're washing down risotto balls with copious quantities of bubbly, may I recommend you sort out your nasty cellulite?
Have I got an offer for you!" Actually, that would have been really funny. Only Suzanne Paul could have pulled that off.

The final occasion was just a few years ago when someone started recommending I try a product from a specific "global nutrition company". Evidently, my daughter could do with it too. I was advised it would help her put on weight and help me lose weight. Wow! (For the record, neither of us had concerns about our respective weights.)

Politeness (coupled with surprise) made me tell the woman it sounded great. I promised to look into it. My main concern, at the time, was to discover what exactly was in this product. We try to steer clear of artificial foods so I was wary about a mysterious concoction.

What I found online was way more interesting than any ingredient list; this organisation's set-up was highly controversial. The business model seemed to be less about selling the product to end users, and more about drawing people in as "independent distributors" who would buy bulk quantities of the product. Introducing new distributors seemed to be a key way for people to earn income.

Enticed by tales of financial independence and wealth, some people (many of whom could ill-afford it) are said to have ended up with basements, closets and garages full of the nutritional products. There were enough firsthand accounts of people who had lost money through this scheme to make me feel some sympathy that my friend was involved. I turned down the product but tried to support her in other ways.

Since then, John Oliver has exposed this brand's issues in an episode about the hazards of multi-level marketing schemes. The organisation concerned has gone to great lengths to discredit a documentary, entitled "Betting on Zero", that questions its business practices and explores allegations that it is a pyramid scheme.

Which brings us back to gifting circles that prey on vulnerable women seeking empowerment and support. Gifting circles rely on peer pressure, secrecy - and women being prepared to rip off others and betray friendships. The few at the top reap the money from the losers below. It's not a circle. It's a pyramid. Stay well away.

And, how about treating your friends like, you know, friends - rather than potential income streams? Just an idea.