- May 6
Have Magicians & Mentalists Gone Too Far?
- Alex Ward
There are new apps and iOS shortcuts being used by some magicians and mentalists that allow them to gather information from someone’s phone without their consent.
Not in a vague, theoretical way. I mean actual personal information: phone numbers, addresses, messages, photographs, and possibly even names of family members or next of kin. Information the spectator has not agreed to share. Information they may not even realise has been accessed.
And I think we need to talk about it!
Somewhere along the way, in the pursuit of stronger reactions, I think some performers have forgotten that there is a real person on the other side of the trick. A person with privacy, boundaries, data, memories, relationships, work projects, personal photographs, and things they may never want another person to see.
The question I keep coming back to is this:
Have we gone too far?
My personal answer is YES. But more than anything, I want this article to make people think about where their own ethical line is, and whether they have actually stopped to consider it.
The moment it happened to me
I’m not going to name and shame anyone here. That’s not what this is about. But I had an experience with a magician that left me feeling genuinely uncomfortable.
He asked to borrow my phone to Google something. That was the premise. As far as I was concerned, I was handing him my phone so he could open Google or type in a website.
But in the reflection of his glasses, I could see what he was actually doing.
He was trying to fill out a form using autofill to get access to my address and phone number. I think there may also have been access to a next of kin name as well. Then I saw him open my photo gallery. Again, I could see it in the reflection of his glasses.
He started going through my photos. At one point, he selected a photograph that was fairly confidential. It was a design from an unreleased project I was working on. That photograph then ended up magically populating in his camera roll.
As an effect, I’m sure he thought it was amazing. But I didn’t leave that situation thinking, “Wow, what a brilliant trick.” I left thinking: how much access did he have to my phone? What else did he see? Did he go through other photographs? Do I have photos in there that are private? Do I have intimate photographs? Do I have photographs of people who have recently passed away that would upset me to suddenly see on someone else’s phone?
That is the problem. I had given him permission to go on Google. I had not given him permission to extract personal information from my phone. I had not given him permission to look through my photographs. And I certainly had not given him permission to use that information as part of an effect.
That is not magic to me. That is a violation dressed up as entertainment.
“But I’m only using it to entertain”
I know what some people will say. They’ll say they would never do anything bad with the data. They’ll say they only use it for the trick. They’ll say they would ask the spectator, “Are you comfortable with me revealing your address?” or “Are you happy for me to say the last digits of your phone number?”
But that misses the point completely.
By the time you ask that question, you already have the information. You have already accessed it. You have already seen it. And if the spectator says, “No, I’m not comfortable with you revealing that,” then what?
You still know it.
You can choose not to say it out loud, but you cannot unsee it. You cannot unlearn it. You cannot un-obtain it.
Consent is not just about whether someone is comfortable with information being revealed publicly. Consent is also about whether they were comfortable with you accessing that information in the first place. And if they didn’t know you were accessing it, then they didn’t consent.
Classic Mentalism already has consent built into it
The strange thing is, mentalism in its most classic form already has a kind of unwritten consent.
You ask someone to write something down. A name, a celebrity, a number, a drawing, a word etc. They choose what to write. They understand, even if it is unspoken, that your role as the entertainer is to try and reveal what they are thinking.
That is part of the contract between performer and participant.
They are choosing the information. They are choosing to take part. They are choosing to write something down within the context of a performance. Of course there are still ethical questions within traditional mentalism, but there is at least a clear frame.
The spectator knows they are participating in a mind-reading effect. They know you are trying to discover something they have chosen to think about or write down.
Secretly taking information from someone’s phone is completely different. That is not them choosing what to share. That is you choosing what to take.
And those are not the same thing.
The illusion of permission
There is a big difference between borrowing someone’s phone and being given full access to their private life.
If I hand you my phone so you can Google something, that does not mean I have given you permission to go through my photo gallery. It does not mean I have given you permission to check my contacts, use autofill to pull up my address, access my private messages, or copy a photograph.
Permission is specific.
If someone says, “Yes, you can use my phone to search for something,” that permission does not expand into, “Yes, you can rummage through my data for the sake of a trick.”
And I think that is where some performers are either being careless, or they are deliberately pretending not to understand the difference. Because the difference is obvious.
If a friend borrowed your phone to search for a restaurant and then started scrolling through your photos, you would not think, “Well, I did technically hand them my phone.” You would think, “What are you doing?”
So why should it be different just because there is a magic trick attached to it?
Would you be comfortable if it happened to you?
This is the question I think every magician using these methods needs to ask themselves.
How would you feel if another performer did this to you? How would you feel if someone took your phone under one premise, then quietly accessed your address, phone number, messages, or photos?
Could you be 100% certain there is nothing in your camera roll that you wouldn’t mind another person seeing? Could you be 100% certain there are no private work documents, family photographs, screenshots, personal conversations, medical information, financial details, or memories you would rather keep to yourself?
Most people cannot honestly say yes to that.
Our phones are not just devices. They are diaries, wallets, photo albums, workspaces, archives of our relationships, and records of things we may be trying to keep private. So when a magician secretly accesses someone’s phone, they are not just getting “information for a trick.” They are stepping into someone’s private life without being invited.
Strong magic does not excuse weak ethics
I understand the temptation. Technology can make things look impossible. If you can reveal someone’s address, or make a private photograph appear somewhere impossible, the reaction might be huge.
But a strong reaction does not automatically mean the method is justified.
There are lots of things we could do to get a reaction. That doesn’t mean we should do them.
At some point, we have to ask whether the effect is worth the cost. In this case, I don’t think it is. Because the cost is trust. The cost is privacy. The cost is making someone feel exposed, embarrassed, anxious, or violated after the moment has passed.
And for what? A trick? A gasp? A reputation among other magicians for having a clever method?
I don’t think that is enough.
Older methods still work
What makes this even more frustrating is that we already have methods that are powerful, deceptive, theatrical, and ethical.
Classic mentalism works. Traditional techniques work. Good scripting works. A strong premise works. A well-managed participant experience works.
You do not need to secretly take information from someone’s phone to create a miracle.
In fact, I would argue that sometimes the older methods are better because they force you to be a better performer. They force you to think about structure, pacing, psychology, presentation, and audience management. They force you to create mystery without crossing personal boundaries.
And surely that is the art.
Not just finding a shortcut that lets you steal information.
Where is the line?
I’m not writing this because I think every magician who uses technology is unethical. Technology can be used brilliantly in magic. There are apps, tools, and systems that can create amazing effects without violating anyone’s privacy.
The issue is not technology itself.
The issue is consent.
The issue is deception being used not just to create an illusion, but to gain access to private information. And I think that is a very different thing.
Magic has always involved secrets. It has always involved methods the audience doesn’t know about. But there has to be a line.
For me, that line is crossed the moment you access someone’s private data without their informed consent.
Not reveal it.
Access it.
That distinction matters. Because once you have seen something, the damage may already be done.
Have we actually thought about this?
I think a lot of performers are so focused on whether something works that they forget to ask whether it should be done at all.
It is easy to ask, “Can I get this information?” or “Can I make this look impossible?” But we should also be asking, “Would I be comfortable if someone did this to me?” and “Does the spectator actually understand what they are agreeing to?”
Because if you haven’t thought about where your ethical line is, it becomes very easy to cross it.
My answer
For me, this is not a grey area.
If someone gives you permission to use their phone for one thing, that is not permission to access everything else. If someone has not knowingly agreed to share personal data with you, then you should not be taking it.
If the only way your effect works is by secretly extracting private information from someone’s device, then maybe the effect shouldn’t be performed.
I know some people will disagree. I know some will say it’s harmless. I know some will say it’s just entertainment.
But I don’t think entertainment gives us the right to ignore consent. And I don’t think a magic trick is important enough to justify making someone feel violated.
Magic should create wonder. It should create mystery. It should make people feel amazed, not exposed.
So maybe it is time for us, as performers, to stop asking, “How far can I go?” and start asking, “How far should I go?”
Because if we are secretly accessing people’s phones, reading their private information, going through their photographs, and justifying it because it gets a good reaction, then I think we need to be honest with ourselves.
We may have already gone too far.