Britain's advertising watchdog polices ITV whilst YouTube deepfake scams flourish unchecked
Two-tier regulation allows platforms to profit from scams that traditional broadcasters could never air
Martin Lewis never endorsed cryptocurrency. He has built his reputation by warning people away from risky investments, not promoting them. Yet a sophisticated deepfake of the consumer champion recently spent days on YouTube, urging viewers to invest their savings in digital currency schemes. The fake Lewis was so convincing that thousands fell for it, with some losing tens of thousands of pounds.
Meanwhile, ITV cannot broadcast even the mildest financial advertisement without submitting scripts to Clearcast, undergoing technical compliance checks, and waiting up to three working days for approval. A traditional broadcaster attempting to air the content that runs freely on YouTube would face immediate sanctions and potential licence revocation.
This isn't regulatory inconsistency—it's regulatory apartheid. Britain operates a two-tier advertising system that meticulously controls traditional broadcasters whilst allowing digital platforms to profit from scams that would be impossible on licensed television.
The human cost is mounting rapidly. Celebrity deepfake scams have stolen £27 million from UK victims in the past two years alone. One retired NHS doctor lost £50,000 to fraudsters using artificial intelligence to impersonate Martin Lewis. A retired stockbroker lost £125,000 to similar schemes. These aren't isolated incidents—they represent industrial-scale exploitation of Britain's regulatory blind spot.
The clearance divide
Every television advertisement in Britain travels through Clearcast, an industry-funded organisation that pre-approves content for over 250 commercial channels. The process is exhaustive: scripts must be submitted before production begins, rough cuts reviewed during filming, and final advertisements subjected to rigorous technical checks.
Each morning at 10am, Clearcast executives gather for viewing sessions, examining commercials for compliance with broadcasting standards. Advertisements undergo photosensitive epilepsy testing, legal text verification, and claims substantiation. Financial products face particularly strict scrutiny—every assertion requires documentary evidence, every promise must be substantiated.
The philosophy is prevention over correction. Broadcasters bear ultimate responsibility for everything they transmit, creating powerful incentives to avoid harmful content altogether.
YouTube operates under entirely different principles. Google's advertising policies prohibit misleading content, but enforcement occurs primarily after publication. Sophisticated scams can run for days, reaching millions of viewers and generating substantial revenue before any intervention occurs. The Advertising Standards Authority can only act if advertisers actively promote their YouTube content—unpromoted videos escape regulation entirely.
This creates a perverse dynamic: platforms profit from advertising that would be inconceivable on traditional television, whilst bearing none of the compliance costs that burden their broadcast competitors.
The deepfake epidemic
Martin Lewis has become the unwitting face of Britain's regulatory failure. His image appears in more fraudulent schemes than any other public figure—a testament both to his trustworthiness and the ease with which scammers exploit it on unregulated platforms.
The sophistication has evolved rapidly. Early fake advertisements relied on static images and basic claims. Modern operations employ artificial intelligence to create convincing video deepfakes that fool even careful observers. The July 2023 video showing Lewis apparently endorsing 'Quantum AI' marked a watershed—not because of its content, but because of its technical sophistication.
Behind individual cases lies systematic criminal enterprise. Police investigations revealed that a Georgia-based organisation used deepfake technology to target over 6,000 people across the UK, Europe and Canada. Their method was devastatingly simple: use social media advertising to reach potential victims, then deploy sophisticated phone teams to pressure targets into transferring money.
The operation succeeded because it exploited regulatory arbitrage. Traditional broadcasters cannot air such content because pre-approval systems catch fraudulent claims before transmission. Digital platforms, operating under post-publication enforcement, become unwitting accomplices to fraud.
Europe fights back
Britain's hands-off approach increasingly isolates it from European peers taking aggressive action against platform advertising abuses. The EU's Transparency and Targeting of Political Advertising regulation proved so stringent that Google and Meta announced complete withdrawal from political advertising across all 27 member states.
Both companies cited "operational challenges and legal uncertainties" rather than technical impossibility. These are sophisticated organisations that successfully operate complex advertising systems worldwide—their European exit reflects political choice, not technical constraint.
The EU's Digital Services Act has introduced mandatory transparency requirements that would be transformative if applied in Britain. Large platforms must now provide advertisement repositories, restrict targeted advertising to minors, and offer users control over personalised content. Such measures represent precisely the systematic oversight that Britain's regulatory framework lacks.
The contrast is stark: whilst Brussels forces platforms to choose between compliance and market access, Westminster appears reluctant to challenge digital advertising practices that would be prohibited on traditional media.
The economics of regulatory arbitrage
Britain's two-tier system creates powerful economic incentives that reward platform advertising over traditional broadcasting. Licensed broadcasters fund their own regulation through levies to Clearcast and the Advertising Standards Authority, whilst competing against platforms facing no equivalent compliance costs.
This regulatory arbitrage allows digital platforms to offer cheaper advertising rates whilst generating revenue from content prohibited on licensed channels. The business model is straightforward: platforms collect fees from fraudulent advertisers, traditional media cannot compete on price, and consumers bear the cost through increased fraud exposure.
Political considerations compound the problem. Government sources privately acknowledge that online advertising regulation is "behind the curve" but express reluctance to impose burdens that might discourage platform investment. Some officials worry that stricter digital advertising rules could complicate political parties' efforts to reach younger voters through social media.
Platform arguments for lighter regulation rest on claims about scale and speed that don't withstand scrutiny. YouTube already employs sophisticated automated systems for content moderation and advertising optimisation. The infrastructure exists to implement meaningful oversight—what's missing is the political will to require it.
Technological acceleration
The regulatory gap becomes more dangerous as artificial intelligence democratises sophisticated deception. Deepfake technology that required significant expertise two years ago is rapidly becoming accessible through user-friendly applications and services.
This technological acceleration exposes a fundamental weakness in post-publication enforcement: by the time fraudulent content is detected and removed, it has already reached thousands of potential victims and generated substantial platform revenue. Traditional broadcasters, with their prevention-focused systems, cannot experience equivalent exploitation.
The scale of emerging damage is already apparent. NatWest reported that Martin Lewis-related scams produced the highest individual losses among celebrity impersonation fraud, reaching £222,000 in some cases. TSB found that 80% of its biggest scam cases originated on Meta platforms. Revolut discovered that 60% of its UK fraud reports began on Facebook, Instagram or WhatsApp.
These aren't abstract statistics—they represent families losing retirement savings, elderly people surrendering life savings, and vulnerable individuals falling victim to sophisticated manipulation that traditional media regulation prevents.
Industry rebellion
Traditional broadcasters increasingly question why they should compete under stricter rules than their digital rivals. Lindsey Clay, chief executive of Thinkbox, argues that platforms should face pre-clearance requirements similar to television and radio.
"We understand that, with the open internet, they can't—or they won't—be responsible for the content, but they can be responsible for the ads," she observes. The Advertising Standards Authority spends enormous resources on reactive enforcement that prevention could eliminate.
The competitive implications extend beyond individual cases. Traditional broadcasters compete "with one arm tied behind their backs" in an advertising ecosystem where platforms face lighter oversight. This disparity intensifies as television viewing shifts to connected devices where YouTube, Amazon Prime Video and other platforms compete directly with licensed broadcasters.
Economic data confirms the problem: digital advertising spending grows whilst traditional broadcast advertising declines, with regulatory burden representing one factor driving this migration. Advertisers naturally prefer channels offering greater flexibility and lower compliance costs, creating a feedback loop that rewards less regulated platforms.
Closing the gap
Addressing Britain's regulatory apartheid requires confronting uncomfortable questions about innovation, competition and consumer protection. The European Union's aggressive approach—effectively forcing platforms to exit advertising categories rather than comply with oversight—demonstrates one solution, though with significant costs.
Alternative approaches include extending pre-approval requirements to digital advertising above certain thresholds, requiring platforms to fund independent oversight bodies, or mandating human review for advertisements using celebrity images or making financial claims. The technology exists; platforms already employ sophisticated systems for content moderation and advertising targeting.
The stakes are rising. As deepfake technology becomes more accessible, the current regulatory gap will become increasingly exploitable by criminal organisations. The choice facing policymakers is stark: maintain the status quo and allow platforms to profit from regulatory arbitrage, or extend meaningful oversight to digital advertising.
The Liberal Democrats' call for bringing YouTube advertising "into line with the system used for TV and radio" represents the beginning of this debate. But the fundamental question isn't technical—it's political. Does Britain have the will to challenge powerful platform interests in defence of consumer protection?
For now, Martin Lewis deepfakes continue appearing on platforms where his genuine appearances would require multiple approvals and evidence requirements. This contradiction captures the essence of Britain's advertising regulation crisis: a system that rigorously controls traditional broadcasters whilst allowing digital platforms to operate as a regulatory free-for-all.
The result is predictable: sophisticated fraud flourishes in the gaps between traditional and digital oversight, platforms profit from content that would be prohibited elsewhere, and consumers pay the price. Until Britain abandons its two-tier approach, this regulatory apartheid will continue enabling industrial-scale deception at the expense of public trust and financial security.