Today’s Sponsor:
Stop stressing over weekly stock picks! Our veteran investor just released a FREE report featuring 10 U.S. stocks you can buy and hold — backed by 20+ years of experience and deep research into AI, EVs, digital health, and cloud megatrends.
Get bulletproof entries, holding strategies, portfolio allocation guides, and sector insights that work for beginners and pros alike. Available for first movers only — grab yours in the next few days!
Get the 10 Stocks For FreeBy clicking this link you agree to receive emails from StockEarnings and our affiliates. You can opt out at any time. Privacy Policy

HistoryExtra revisits 18th- and early 19th-century British hoaxes to show how an era that prized rationality still proved highly vulnerable to spectacle, prestige, and misinformation.
Image via HistoryExtra
When “Reason” Went Viral: The Georgian Hoaxes That Fooled a Supposedly Enlightened Britain
HistoryExtra was out this morning with a brisk, deliciously unsettling reminder that the Age of Reason was also an age of getting absolutely played. In a piece titled “From a clairvoyant chicken to a fake Shakespeare: 8 hoaxes that fooled Georgian Britain,” the magazine walks through a string of deceptions that swept through Britain in the 18th and early 19th centuries—right in the period we tend to picture as wigged philosophers, scientific demonstrations, and a public newly trained to distrust superstition. The premise is simple and sharp: if the Enlightenment was truly the triumph of rational thinking, why were so many people—across classes—still ready to believe in nonsense, marvels, and outright fraud?
The article’s gallery of hoaxes is less about one-off pranks and more about the ecosystem that made them plausible. Georgian Britain had expanding newspapers, coffeehouses where gossip moved faster than verification, and a growing appetite for “wonders”—oddities, spectacles, and sensational claims dressed up as learning. HistoryExtra frames these hoaxes as something that didn’t happen despite the era’s supposed rationality, but partly because of it: when science and discovery are in the air, it becomes easier to sell the public on “new findings” and “astonishing proofs,” especially when people don’t yet have the tools to check them.
The headline examples give you the flavor. There’s the clairvoyant chicken, a creature supposedly capable of supernatural or predictive feats—exactly the kind of crowd-pleaser that could be marketed as both entertainment and evidence of hidden forces in nature. Then there’s the fake Shakespeare: forged texts and fabricated literary “discoveries” that played on a booming reverence for Britain’s cultural icons. The point isn’t that Georgian Britons were uniquely gullible; it’s that prestige is a powerful solvent. Attach a claim to Shakespeare—or to the aura of scientific novelty—and skepticism gets socially expensive. Doubters become killjoys, or worse, enemies of national pride.
HistoryExtra also situates these hoaxes in a society undergoing real change: higher literacy, a more commercial press, and a widening marketplace for ideas. That marketplace didn’t just distribute truth; it distributed compelling stories. The piece underscores how hoaxes exploited the same forces we celebrate in the period—curiosity, ambition, the hunger to be “in the know,” and the status that came from witnessing something extraordinary before your neighbors did. Even when hoaxes were exposed, the exposure didn’t always erase the thrill; sometimes the reveal became part of the entertainment cycle, proof that the public was engaged enough to care.
Read the full story at HistoryExtra.
Read the full story at HistoryExtra →
Until tomorrow—keep one eye on the headlines and the other on the footnotes.
— Time Capsule Editorial