He Stole Hundreds of iPhones and Looted People’s Life Savings. He Told Us How.
A convicted iPhone thief explains how a vulnerability in Apple’s software got him fast cash—and then a stint in a high-security prison
A convicted iPhone thief explains how a vulnerability in Apple’s software got him fast cash—and then a stint in a high-security prison
RUSH CITY, Minn.—Before the guards let you through the barbed-wire fences and steel doors at this Minnesota Correctional Facility, you have to leave your phone in a locker. Not a total inconvenience when you’re there to visit a prolific iPhone thief.
I wasn’t worried that Aaron Johnson would steal my iPhone, though. I came to find out how he’d steal it.
“I’m already serving time. I just feel like I should try to be on the other end of things and try to help people,” Johnson, 26 years old, told me in an interview we filmed inside the high-security prison where he’s expected to spend the next several years.
For the past year, my colleague Nicole Nguyen and I have investigated a nationwide spate of thefts, where thieves watch iPhone owners tap their passcodes, then steal their targets’ phones—and upend their financial and digital lives.
Johnson, along with a crew of others, operated in Minneapolis for at least a year during 2021 and 2022. In and around bars at night, he would befriend young people, slyly learn their passcodes and take their phones. Using that code, he’d lock victims out of their Apple accounts and loot thousands of dollars from their bank apps. Finally, he’d sell the phones themselves.
It was an elaborate, opportunistic scheme that exploited the Apple ecosystem and targeted trusting iPhone owners who figured a stolen phone was just a stolen phone.
Last week, Apple announced Stolen Device Protection, a feature that likely will protect against these passcode-assisted crimes.
Yet even when you install the software, due in iOS 17.3, there will be loopholes. The biggest loophole? Us. By hearing how Johnson did what he did, we can learn how to better secure the devices that hold so much of our lives.
Johnson isn’t a sophisticated cybercriminal. He said he got his start pickpocketing on the streets of Minneapolis. “I was homeless,” he said. “Started having kids and needed money. I couldn’t really find a job. So that’s just what I did.”
Soon he realised the phones he was nabbing could be worth a lot more—if only he had a way to get inside them. Johnson said no one taught him the passcode trick, he just stayed up late one night fiddling with a phone and figured out how to use the passcode to unlock a bounty of protected services.
“That passcode is the devil,” he said. “It could be God sometimes—or it could be the devil.”
According to the Minneapolis Police Department’s arrest warrant, Johnson and the other 11 members of the enterprise allegedly accumulated nearly $300,000. According to him, it was likely more.
“I had a rush for large amounts at a time,” he said. “I just got too carried away.”
In March, Johnson, who had prior robbery and theft convictions, pleaded guilty to racketeering and was sentenced to 94 months. He told the judge he was sorry for what he did.
Here’s how the nightly operation would go down, according to interviews with Johnson, law-enforcement officials and some of the victims:
Pinpoint the victim. Dimly lit and full of people, bars became his ideal location. College-age men became his ideal target. “They’re already drunk and don’t know what’s going on for real,” Johnson said. Women, he said, tended to be more guarded and alert to suspicious behaviour.
Get the passcode. Friendly and energetic, that’s how victims described Johnson. Some told me he approached them offering drugs. Others said Johnson would tell them he was a rapper and wanted to add them on Snapchat. After talking for a bit, they would hand over the phone to Johnson, thinking he’d just input his info and hand it right back.
“I say, ‘Hey, your phone is locked. What’s the passcode?’ They say, ‘2-3-4-5-6,’ or something. And then I just remember it,” Johnson described. Sometimes he would record people typing their passcodes.
Once the phone was in his hand, he’d leave with it or pass it to someone else in the crew.
Lock them out—fast. Within minutes of taking the iPhones, Johnson was in the Settings menu, changing the Apple ID password. He’d then use the new password to turn off Find My iPhone so victims couldn’t log in on some other phone or computer to remotely locate—and even erase—the stolen device.
Johnson was changing passwords fast—“faster than you could say supercalifragilisticexpialidocious,” he said. “You gotta beat the mice to the cheese.”
Take the money. Johnson said he would then enrol his face in Face ID because “when you got your face on there, you got the key to everything.” The biometric authentication gave Johnson quick access to passwords saved in iCloud Keychain.
Savings, checking, cryptocurrency apps—he was looking to transfer large sums of money out. And if he had trouble getting into those money apps, he’d look for extra information, such as Social Security numbers, in the Notes and Photos apps.
By the morning, he’d have the money transferred. That’s when he’d head to stores to buy stuff using Apple Pay. He’d also use the stolen Apple devices to buy more Apple devices, most often $1,200 iPad Pro models, to sell for cash.

Sell the phones. Finally, he’d erase the phone and sell it to Zhongshuang “Brandon” Su who, according to his arrest warrant, sold them overseas.
While Johnson did steal some Android phones, he went after iPhones because of their higher resale value. At bars, he’d scope out the scene—looking for iPhone Pro models with their telltale trio of cameras. He said Pro Max with a terabyte of storage could get him $900. Su also bought Johnson’s purchased iPads.
Su pleaded guilty to receiving stolen property and was sentenced to 120 days at an adult corrections facility in Hennepin County, Minn. Neither Su nor his lawyer responded to requests for comment.
On a good weekend, Johnson said, he was selling up to 30 iPhones and iPads to Su and making around $20,000—not including money he’d taken from victims’ bank apps, Apple Pay and more.
A week after my trip to Minnesota, Apple announced Stolen Device Protection. The security setting will likely foil most of Johnson’s tricks, but it won’t be turned on automatically.
If you don’t turn it on, you’re as vulnerable as ever. Switching it on adds a line of defence to your phone when away from familiar locations such as home or work.

To change the Apple ID password, a thief would need Face ID or Touch ID biometric scans—that is, your face or your finger. The passcode alone won’t work. And the process has a built-in hourlong delay, followed by another biometric scan. This same slow process is also required for adding a new Face ID and disabling Find my iPhone.
Some functions, such as accessing saved passwords in iCloud Keychain or erasing the iPhone, are available without the delay but still require Face ID or Touch ID.
A criminal might still be motivated to kidnap a person with lots of money, then slowly break through these layers of security. However, the protections will likely dissuade thieves who just want to grab phones and flee the scene.
So what loopholes remain? A thief who gets the passcode could still buy things with Apple Pay. And any app that isn’t protected by an additional password or PIN—like your email, Venmo, PayPal and more—is also vulnerable.
That’s why you should also:
The most obvious is Johnson’s advice: Watch your surroundings and don’t give your passcode out.
If this crime has taught us anything, it’s that a single device now contains access to our entire lives—our memories, our money and more. It’s on us to protect them.
—Nicole Nguyen contributed to this article.
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The pandemic-fuelled love affair with casual footwear is fading, with Bank of America warning the downturn shows no sign of easing.
The pandemic-fuelled love affair with casual footwear is fading, with Bank of America warning the downturn shows no sign of easing.
The boom in casual footware ushered in by the pandemic has ended, a potential problem for companies such as Adidas that benefited from the shift to less formal clothing, Bank of America says.
The casual footwear business has been on the ropes since mid-2023 as people began returning to office.
Analyst Thierry Cota wrote that while most downcycles have lasted one to two years over the past two decades or so, the current one is different.
It “shows no sign of abating” and there is “no turning point in sight,” he said.
Adidas and Nike alone account for almost 60% of revenue in the casual footwear industry, Cota estimated, so the sector’s slower growth could be especially painful for them as opposed to brands that have a stronger performance-shoe segment. Adidas may just have it worse than Nike.
Cota downgraded Adidas stock to Underperform from Buy on Tuesday and slashed his target for the stock price to €160 (about $187) from €213. He doesn’t have a rating for Nike stock.
Shares of Adidas listed on the German stock exchange fell 4.5% Tuesday to €162.25. Nike stock was down 1.2%.
Adidas didn’t immediately respond to a request for comment.
Cota sees trouble for Adidas both in the short and long term.
Adidas’ lifestyle segment, which includes the Gazelles and Sambas brands, has been one of the company’s fastest-growing business, but there are signs growth is waning.
Lifestyle sales increased at a 10% annual pace in Adidas’ third quarter, down from 13% in the second quarter.
The analyst now predicts Adidas’ organic sales will grow by a 5% annual rate starting in 2027, down from his prior forecast of 7.5%.
The slower revenue growth will likewise weigh on profitability, Cota said, predicting that margins on earnings before interest and taxes will decline back toward the company’s long-term average after several quarters of outperforming. That could result in a cut to earnings per share.
Adidas stock had a rough 2025. Shares shed 33% in the past 12 months, weighed down by investor concerns over how tariffs, slowing demand, and increased competition would affect revenue growth.
Nike stock fell 9% throughout the period, reflecting both the company’s struggles with demand and optimism over a turnaround plan CEO Elliott Hill rolled out in late 2024.
Investors’ confidence has faded following Nike’s December earnings report, which suggested that a sustained recovery is still several quarters away. Just how many remains anyone’s guess.
But if Adidas’ challenges continue, as Cota believes they will, it could open up some space for Nike to claw back any market share it lost to its rival.
Investors should keep in mind, however, that the field has grown increasingly crowded in the past five years. Upstarts such as On Holding and Hoka also present a formidable challenge to the sector’s legacy brands.
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