When you watch Who Is America?, it’s easy to think the chaos on screen is pure luck. In reality, Sacha Baron Cohen has a meticulously crafted toolbox that nudges even the most polished public figures into absurd, self‑inflicted humiliation. Below we break down the ten psychological levers he pulls, each illustrated with a real‑world example that proves the method works every single time.

10 ways sacha: The Tricks Behind the Chaos

10 Social Reframing: How Common Courtesy Can Make You Do Horrible Things

Former congressman Joe Walsh appears in an episode of Who Is America? enthusiastically championing a fictitious “Kindgerguardian” initiative that would hand semi‑automatic weapons and mortars to four‑year‑olds. He gushes, “In less than a month—less than a month!—a first‑grader can become a first‑grenader.”

When the clip surfaced, Walsh tried to spin his involvement as an act of cultural empathy. He admitted the premise sounded “kind of crazy,” yet insisted he’d filmed because Cohen was masquerading as an Israeli, and Walsh believed, “Israel is strong on defense, so this makes sense.”

This rationalization fits neatly into the psychological concept of social reframing. Erving Goffman argued that when a social exchange begins to crack, people instinctively assume the fault lies in a personal misunderstanding. The mind then rewrites the scene, inventing justifications that make the other party’s bizarre behavior appear reasonable within one’s own mental framework.

Walsh demonstrated this perfectly. He heard something shocking, presumed his own rudeness, and unconsciously re‑interpreted the interaction so it felt more comfortable. It won’t work on everybody, but Walsh’s pride in his social finesse made him eager to preserve the illusion of being liked.

Sacha knows this trick well. He’s said that one of his earliest insights while crafting the Ali G persona was the “patience of upper‑class guests who are desperate to appear polite.” The more refined a person’s social veneer, the more likely they are to comply with outrageous requests just to keep their self‑image intact.

9 Social Transactions: How Flattery Gets People To Do Anything You Ask

Walsh was a soft target because Cohen buttered him up before the interview. Instead of telling him he’d be on a comedy show, Cohen announced that Walsh had earned a “Friend of Israel” award.

This honor hit Walsh’s ego hard—he wasn’t just receiving a trophy; he was being validated by the very nation he admired. That external affirmation made his brain register a subconscious debt, compelling him to return the favor.

Psychologists describe this as a subconscious social transaction: when someone appeals to your ideal self‑image, an unconscious urge to reciprocate bubbles up. The repayment often starts as a harmless compliment, but a savvy manipulator can steer that goodwill toward anything they desire.

8 Isolation: How Corinne Olympios Was Scared Into Supporting Child Soldiers

Reality‑star Corinne Olympios told the camera, “One look into the eyes of a child soldier when he gets a new launcher and you instantly know it’s all worthwhile… When you launch a grenade, you launch a dream.” She later admitted that she was terrified and simply complied to get out of the situation.

Olympios arrived with her manager, but the crew whisked him away to another room for paperwork. To keep her isolated, they lied to her manager, claiming she’d asked him to leave.

Even though a crew of twenty was present, everyone except Cohen pretended they couldn’t speak English. When Olympios grew uneasy, the blank‑faced team offered false reassurance that her manager was on a call, urging her to finish the interview alone.

When she finally suffered a panic attack, the crew finally released her. The fear was so intense that she now struggles to remember large portions of the episode.

7 Outcome Control: Why People Will Say Anything For A Dollar

Behind the scenes of Borat, many of the participants were paid. Most received between $150 and $400; a Romanian village was handed a mere $5.50 each to allow Cohen to place live animals inside their homes.

Paying people in advance creates a subtle psychological shift: the payer appears to control the outcome, prompting recipients to relax social norms and join in odd behavior. Studies confirm that when someone seems to hold the reins, participants are more likely to bend rules.

Cohen told the Romanian villagers he was documenting poverty, and because they believed he was helping, they turned a blind eye when he performed bizarre stunts like kissing them or attaching horses to a broken car.

The same principle likely nudged Olympios as well—she was compensated, given a TV platform, and made to feel trapped, which amplified her susceptibility to Cohen’s manipulation.

6 Conformity To The Group: Why People Do Horrible Things Just To Fit In

Olympios wasn’t completely alone; a friend from The Bachelor slipped in periodically. He kept telling her, “Corinne, you’re doing great,” while she erupted, “Jordan, I know I’m great! You’re the problem here! What the actual f—?” He would disappear just as she tried to vent.

Cohen leveraged this friendly face to make Olympios feel like the odd one out for being uncomfortable. By exploiting her desire to blend in, he demonstrated his core thesis: racism and bigotry thrive on mindless conformity.

Research consistently shows that people gravitate toward the majority view, even when it’s absurd. The pressure to belong can push ordinary individuals into extraordinary acts of compliance.

5 The Appearance Of Legitimacy: How Baron Cohen Gets Past PR Reps

One might wonder how Cohen convinces high‑profile guests to appear on his shows. A PR representative once posted online, “I’d like to think no client of mine would ever be interviewed by a disguised Sacha Baron Cohen.”

That rep claimed he verified Cohen’s credentials by checking databases, contacting producers, and confirming claims. In practice, none of that held up.

Cohen meticulously constructs a veneer of legitimacy. Former presidential advisor Pat Buchanan recounted being invited to Da Ali G Show under the pretense of a documentary titled The Making of Modern America. Buchanan did his due diligence, found a website for the fake documentary, and even discovered that the fictitious production company was officially registered with the government.

This legal camouflage makes guests assume the project is genuine, dramatically increasing their willingness to comply with Cohen’s requests.

4 Disguising Persuasive Intent: How Sacha Baron Cohen Eases His Victims In

When former Assistant Secretary of State Alan Keyes met Cohen’s Borat, he was handed a macabre gift: the rib of a Jewish man. Keyes smiled, thanked Cohen, and held the bone for a few seconds before the reality hit him, prompting him to storm out.

Cohen’s strategy often involves a 15‑minute warm‑up of ordinary questions before he drops the absurd ones. This gradual escalation lowers the guest’s guard, leaving them with little time to process the sudden shift.

Psychologists have shown that when people aren’t expecting a request, they’re twice as likely to comply—think of subway seat‑giving behavior. By catching guests off‑guard, Cohen maximizes the chance they’ll go along with his outlandish prompts.

Linda Stein summed it up: “He was very, very clever in the way he warmed up to his outrageous behavior. At no point did I feel that there was an actor in the room.”

3 Interdependence: Why Doing What Someone Says Keeps You Alive

Social psychologist Harry T. Reis argues that Cohen’s comedy is essentially a field experiment devoid of ethical constraints. He points to the “power of the situation” – the idea that surrounding circumstances can dramatically reshape behavior.

Reis explains that humans evolved to survive through mutual reliance. When others act oddly, we instinctively adjust, offering support because cooperation once meant survival.

Thus, being duped by Cohen isn’t a personal failing; it’s an echo of ancient adaptive mechanisms. Anyone placed in a similar scenario would likely respond in the same way.

2 Dehumanization: Why Normal People Say Racist Things

One of Cohen’s most talked‑about moments involved a Tucson bar chanting, “Throw the Jew down the well!” While it seemed to prove latent anti‑Semitism, Cohen himself suggests a different reading: indifference.

He’s quoted saying, “Did it reveal that they were anti‑Semitic? Perhaps. But maybe it just revealed that they were indifferent to anti‑Semitism… Not everyone in Germany had to be a raving anti‑Semite. They just had to be apathetic.”

Philosopher Richard Rorty echoes this, noting that people tend to dehumanize those they never interact with. When we live in affluent societies and only meet similar individuals, atrocities abroad can feel no more serious than the death of an animal.

1 Breaching: How Baron Cohen Exposes People’s Darkest Views

Gun‑rights activist Philip Van Cleave claimed he only played along because he recognized the set‑up, hoping to alert his community. He said, “I decided that I would play along with the scheme… If I was right about this being a set‑up, I could blow the whistle.”

In truth, Van Cleave spent three hours filming a gun‑instruction video for four‑year‑olds, admitting he’d previously pushed programs to arm seventh‑graders and argued that kids make better killers because they lack a conscience.

Cohen didn’t force Van Cleave to say anything he didn’t already believe; he simply gave him a stage to vocalize the extremist ideas he usually hides.

This is a classic breaching experiment: by presenting an extreme viewpoint, Cohen creates a safe space for guests to voice their own radical thoughts, which seem moderate when juxtaposed with his over‑the‑top persona.

“People lower their guard,” Cohen has explained, “and expose their own prejudice.”

Through these ten tactics, Sacha Baron Cohen turns ordinary interviews into social science experiments, exposing the hidden mechanics that drive people to embarrass themselves on camera.

When you think of the skies over Europe during World War I, the name 10 german world instantly conjures the legendary Red Baron. Yet, Germany produced a cadre of aerial warriors whose skill and daring rivaled, and sometimes eclipsed, Manfred von Richthofen. Below, we count down the ten most formidable German aces, each a soaring legend in his own right.

10 german world: A Quick Overview

10 Max Immelmann

The iconic Max Immelmann earned the distinction of being Germany’s inaugural ace. He also became the first pilot to receive the nation’s highest honor, the Pour le Mérite, later nicknamed “The Blue Max” in his honor. Born in September 1890, Immelmann re‑enlisted as a pilot at the outbreak of war after an earlier stint as a 14‑year‑old cadet and a brief period of study.

Assigned initially to ferry supplies and mail between aerodromes, Immelmann was awarded the Iron Cross, Second Class, for skillfully landing a heavily damaged aircraft within German territory. His first confirmed kill arrived on 1 August 1915, when he shot down one of ten British planes assaulting the Douai aerodrome, earning him the Iron Cross, First Class.

In October 1915, Immelmann single‑handedly shielded the French city of Lille from Allied air attacks, a deed that won him the moniker “Adler von Lille” (the Eagle of Lille) among the German populace. During an encounter over Lille he met the duo of Captain O’Hara Wood and Ira Jones in a BE‑2c; after they lost their gun, they escaped unharmed only because Immelmann ran out of ammunition. By January 1916, after his eighth victory, he became Germany’s first ace and received the Pour le Mérite.

On 18 June 1916, the Eagle of Lille met his demise. As with many aces, the exact cause remains debated: Allied claims attribute his loss to Lieutenant G.R. McCubbin and his gunner in an FE‑2, while German reports suggest he fell victim to friendly anti‑aircraft fire. Historians credit Immelmann with 15 victories, though some sources argue for 17.

9 Oswald Boelcke

Few figures in wartime lore command respect from both sides, yet Oswald Boelcke is one such individual. He entered the army in 1914 as an observer alongside his brother Wilhelm, soon transferring to a fighter squadron (Section 62) where he notched his first kill in August 1915. A friendship and rivalry blossomed with Max Immelmann.

In January 1916, Boelcke recorded his eighth victory on the same day as Immelmann, becoming Germany’s second ace and, together with Immelmann, the first to receive the Pour le Mérite. After Immelmann’s death in June, the Kaiser ordered Boelcke to refrain from flying for a month to prevent another loss. Grounded, he championed reforms that reshaped the Imperial Army Air Service, advocating formation fighting over solo sorties and paving the way for the Jasta units. As commander of the newly formed Jasta 2, he selected the trio of Manfred von Richthofen, Hans Reimann, and Erwin Boehme as his subordinates.

Boelcke’s combat record was matched by a reputation for chivalry. Shortly after his first victory, he rescued a French boy drowning near a German aerodrome, earning the Prussian Lifesaving Medal—an honor the boy’s parents attempted, unsuccessfully, to have recognized with the French Legion d’Honneur. Another notable episode occurred in January 1916 when he downed two British flyers; later, while visiting one of the wounded pilots in hospital, he was entrusted with a letter that he delivered behind enemy lines under heavy fire.

Tragically, Boelcke perished on 28 October 1916 when his aircraft collided with that of Erwin Boehme. At the time, the 25‑year‑old led German aces with 40 victories. Beyond his combat achievements, Boelcke authored the seminal Dicta Boelcke, the first text to codify basic aerial combat tactics. His legacy endured, with protégés—especially the Red Baron—holding him in the highest esteem.

8 Lothar Von Richthofen

Often remembered solely as the younger sibling of the Red Baron, Lothar von Richthofen carved out a formidable reputation of his own. Born two years after Manfred, he began his military career as a cavalry officer before earning his wings in 1915. Initially serving as an observer with Jasta 23, he transferred to Jasta 11 in 1917, the very squadron his brother commanded.

After claiming his first victory on 28 March, Lothar rapidly emerged from his brother’s shadow, amassing 24 victories in just six weeks. Among these was a disputed claim over famed ace Albert Ball. He received the Pour le Mérite on 14 May. Known among peers for an aggressive fighting style, Lothar spent as much time in hospital beds as he did in the cockpit. Following a further convalescence, he returned to the front only to be shot down on 12 August 1918, ending his combat career.

Post‑war, Lothar briefly worked on a farm before becoming a commercial pilot. He met his death in a flying accident in July 1922. Credited with 40 victories, the younger Richthofen might have achieved legendary status had he adopted a more cautious approach to combat.

7 Ernst Udet

The tragic arc of Ernst Udet, the highest‑scoring German ace to survive World War I, stands in stark contrast to his adventurous life. Struggling to join the army due to his stature, the Frankfurt native entered the volunteer motorcyclist program at 18. By 1915 he had transferred to the German Air Service, initially performing observer duties before moving to Flieger Abteilung 68, where he secured his first kill on 18 March 1916, taking on 22 enemy aircraft and earning the Iron Cross, First Class.

In early 1917, while stationed at Champagne opposite the French squadron led by Georges Guynemer, Udet encountered his rival in a fierce aerial duel. Though his gun jammed, Guynemer, recognizing Udet’s plight, simply waved and spared him. Over the next year, Udet rose to command several squadrons, including a flying circus, and increased his tally to 16 victories, receiving the Pour le Mérite in early 1918.

After a brief sickness leave, he returned to lead Jasta 4, adorning his Fokker D VII with the words Lo (in honor of his girlfriend Lola Zink) and du doch nicht (“certainly not you”) to mock Allied pilots. He pushed his total to 62 by the war’s end, shooting down 27 aircraft in September alone.

Following the conflict, Udet achieved fame as a movie star, author, and international air‑show performer. In 1934 he joined the Luftwaffe, eventually attaining the rank of colonel general. However, pressure from Hermann Göring over Germany’s dwindling air victories led to a mental breakdown; on 17 November 1941, he took his own life with a pistol. The Nazis later claimed he died testing a new weapon, portraying him as a martyr.

6 Erich Lowenhardt

Before volunteering for the German air service in 1916, Erich Lowenhardt earned the Iron Cross, First Class, for bravery as an infantryman a year earlier. After a brief stint as an observer, he transferred to Jasta 10 in early 1917, quickly establishing a reputation that earned him squadron leadership. In November 1917, Lowenhardt escaped a serious crash unhurt when his aircraft was struck by anti‑aircraft fire.

He received the Pour le Mérite after reaching 24 victories by May 1918. Engaged in a friendly competition with Ernst Udet and Lothar von Richthofen, he was appointed to head one of the flying circuses in June 1918. By August, he joined the exclusive trio of German pilots—alongside the Red Baron and Udet—who surpassed 50 aerial victories.

On 10 August, Lowenhardt’s plane collided with that of fellow German Alfred Wentz. He leapt from his aircraft, but his parachute failed to open, resulting in his death; Wentz survived. Lowenhardt is remembered as one of the war’s finest combat pilots, tallying 54 victories, roughly half of which came in the final six weeks of his life.

5 Eduard Von Schleich

In 1908, Eduard von Schleich entered the German army via the infantry. After sustaining a serious injury in late 1914, he transferred to the air service while recuperating. By 1915 he joined Feldflieger‑Abteilung 2b as a pilot and earned the Iron Cross, First Class, for completing a crucial mission despite a severely wounded arm.

Following recovery, von Schleich secured a transfer to Jasta 21 in March 1917. The squadron, previously plagued by poor performance, surged under his command. In July, after the loss of close friend Lieutenant Erich Limpert, von Schleich painted his aircraft black in Limpert’s memory, earning the nickname “The Black Knight.” His unit adopted the ominous moniker “Dead Man Squadron.” In September, the squadron went on a killing spree, downing over 40 enemy planes, 17 of which were claimed by the Black Knight himself.

After a brief sick leave, von Schleich was reassigned to Jasta 32 due to a directive that only Prussians lead Prussian units—he being Bavarian. In December, he received the Pour le Mérite after reaching 25 victories. He later commanded a flying circus and Jagdgruppe 8, comprising Jastas 23, 32, and 35, before the armistice. Finishing the war with 35 confirmed kills, he later worked briefly for Lufthansa, joined the Luftwaffe, rose to general, and died in 1947.

4 Hans‑Joachim Buddecke

In 1904, Hans‑Joachim Buddecke followed his father into the U.S. Army cadet corps. Nine years later he moved to Indianapolis after resigning from the Army, later working as a mechanic and learning to fly. When war erupted in Europe, Buddecke slipped back into Germany to join the Air Service in late 1914, initially serving as an observer before transferring to the 23rd FFA Squadron.

His first combat victory came on 19 September 1915, earning both classes of the Iron Cross after capturing the downed aircraft’s crew—Lieutenant W.H. Nixon and Captain J.N.S. Stott. He was awarded the Pour le Mérite in early 1916 for his role in the Dardanelles campaign, becoming the third pilot (after Immelmann and Boelcke) to receive the Blue Max.

Buddecke was recalled to Europe, where he first led Jasta 4 before moving to Jasta 14. He later returned to Turkey, where his successful air campaign at Gallipoli earned him the Turkish Gold Liakat Medal, and Turkish troops nicknamed him “El Schahin,” meaning “The Hunting Falcon.” After further European assignments, he was killed in combat in France on 10 March 1918 at age 27, credited with 13 aerial victories.

3 Werner Voss

Ask anyone which German ace topped the World War I charts, and the Red Baron will likely be mentioned first. Yet many historians argue that Werner Voss was equal to, if not better than, the famed Baron. Voss entered the German army via the cavalry in November 1914 at age 17, later moving to the Air Service and serving as an observer before a temporary posting to Jasta 2 in November 1916.

His first two victories on 27 November 1916 secured a permanent slot with Jasta 2. By May 1917, his 28th kill earned him the prestigious Pour le Mérite in April, catching the Red Baron’s eye, who offered him friendship, recognizing Voss as the only man who could surpass him.

Convinced by the Baron to join a flying circus, Voss added 14 more victories before meeting his end on 23 September 1917 in one of the war’s most legendary air battles.

On that fateful day, a squadron of seven British aircraft swarmed Voss. He held his own for over ten minutes before being shot down by Arthur Rhys Davids. With 48 victories at his death, Voss was described by James McCudden as the bravest German fighter pilot he ever witnessed.

2 Josef Jacobs

Josef Jacobs entered the German air service in 1914. After a brief period as a reconnaissance pilot, he achieved his first combat claim in February 1916, though it remained unconfirmed due to lack of witnesses. In October, he transferred to Jasta 22, where he secured his first confirmed kill on 23 January 1917. He logged three confirmed and eight unconfirmed victories with Jasta 22 before moving to Jasta 7, where he became commander on 2 August 1917.

Jacobs earned the Pour le Mérite after downing his 24th aircraft on 19 July 1918. Remaining with his squadron, he added 24 more victories between 13 September and 27 October, marking his final combat triumph of the war.

Living long enough to become the oldest aviation recipient of the Pour le Mérite, Jacobs died in 1978. In a revealing interview a decade before his death, he confessed that despite his lengthy service and ranking fourth among German aces (tied with Werner Voss), he never received a pension because he served only as a reserve officer.

1 Rudolf Berthold

Rudolf Berthold joined the German army in 1909 and was transferred to the air service for observation duties when the war began. He quickly moved into a fighter squadron, amassing five victories by early 1916. Berthold earned a reputation as a reckless flyer, frequently being shot down.

After a stint with Jasta 4, he commanded Jasta 14 and received the Pour le Mérite after his 12th victory. In May 1917, a crash left him with a fractured skull, pelvis, and broken nose; remarkably, he returned to combat after just three months, though never fully recovered.

Berthold was later appointed to lead Jasta 18, where an injury to his right arm rendered it useless. Undeterred, he learned to fly using only one hand, later heading a flying circus and downing 16 more aircraft before the war ended on 10 August 1918, when he was shot down again.

Nicknamed “Iron Man” by his comrades for his indomitable spirit, Berthold achieved 44 victories before the armistice. He was killed by rioters in 1920 at age 29, shot by members of the very public he had fought to protect. Some sources falsely claimed he was strangled with his own Pour le Mérite medal.

These ten daring pilots—each a master of the skies—show that the Red Baron’s legend was part of a broader tapestry of German aerial excellence during World War I.