Money for the family of a terminally ill boy. Birthing kits for women in the Third World. School building in Sierra Leone. Funding for asylum seekers.

These are the pull-on-the-heartstrings causes Belle Gibson exploited. She researched them. She ran online campaigns in their names. She hosted an exclusive fundraiser in Melbourne. And then she kept every cent.

All the while, the founder of The Whole Pantry empire wrote in her book and posted to her 200,000 social media followers about her philanthropy. She boasted that a large percentage of her profits were given to charity, claiming hundreds of thousands of dollars had been donated.

But this was a lie. The money, it turns out, disappeared faster than her "cancer".

Gibson conned the public, the media, a multinational publisher and one of the world's biggest tech companies. She hijacked the names of local and overseas charities and exploited people's generosity. She convinced the sick to reject conventional medicine to treat cancer, infertility, depression and other illnesses.

Belle Gibson's actions were predatory, her behaviour deplorable. At best, she gave false hope to the vulnerable. At worst, she drove chronically ill people away from proven medical treatment.

Yet, after a glacial investigation by Victoria's consumer watchdog, she is only being pursued in the civil courts.

Consumer Affairs Minister Jane Garrett on Friday defended the decision not to pursue Gibson for obtaining financial advantage by deception, a criminal charge that carries jail time.

While the potential civil penalties against Gibson are no doubt hefty, her company is in liquidation. Even if they go after her personally she's unlikely to be able to pay any fine. The Whole Pantry is $140,000 in the red, most of which is owed to the tax office. Gibson has no assets. There is next to no prospect of recouping any money from her.

This move by the government makes a mockery of its ability and willingness to take meaningful action against fraudsters. It raises serious concerns about the sluggish approach by the agencies tasked with overseeing the multibillion-dollar charity sector.

Consumer Affairs Victoria could have pursued Gibson for running an appeal without being registered, a breach under the Fundraising Act that carries a maximum penalty of 12 months' imprisonment. It chose not to.

Despite Gibson's public admission that she kept money raised for charity, Victoria Police has taken no action against her. The Australian Competition and Consumer Commission, which runs the Scamwatch website, is also not pursuing her. And the Australian Charities and Not-for-profits Commission, the regulator of the nation's 54,000 charities, says its hands are tied because she was never registered as a charity.

In a rare move against a publisher, Penguin will have to pay $30,000 for failing to fact-check Gibson's "inspirational" story before recklessly selling it to the masses - despite having serious concerns about its accuracy weeks before its release.

In a landmark move that will affect the self-help movement, the publisher will now have to include prominent warnings on all books about alternative and natural therapies that says they are not evidenced-based. It will also be required to obtain a medical diagnosis before publishing any books about people's health claims.

Aside from Penguin, there are other parties who failed the public but will not share the blame for Gibson's rise. Apple and the media companies that saw dollar signs in her story are also at fault for blindly giving her a platform.

Gibson's deceit propelled her to fame and fortune and brought her a worldwide following. Apple took Gibson under its wing following meteoric sales of her award-winning app. The company even flew her to Silicon Valley to work in secret on the app, which was going to be a centrepiece of its new smartwatch.

Some have estimated Gibson's international success generated more than $1 million in app and book sales. She lived in a five-star world: she was awash in designer clothes; carried $2000 handbags; took international holidays; she traded in her two-bedroom flat for a luxury beachside loft.

Documents filed by the liquidator of her company show that at the height of the hoax Gibson used her business to buy a 2013 BMW X3. As everything unravelled around her last year, she negotiated a cheque from 60 Minutes (rumoured to be $45,000) in return for an interview.

The story Gibson traded off - first, that she cured herself of terminal cancer; second, that she was led astray by a healer - is a complete fiction. She has been outed for exploiting the sympathy of others by pretending to be dying and for this she must be held accountable. If the punishment is any less than the maximum, what's to stop this happening again? Without proper enforcement action there is no deterrent. And there will be more Belle Gibsons.

Do you know more? Email beau.donelly@fairfaxmedia.com.au,nick.toscano@fairfaxmedia.com.au