That's the point; a fraudaxer has all the kit but won't actually be found in Little Turdbottle Village Hall eating pasta at 3am before setting out on the next 100km leg of the ride, just like a fakenger goes for the cool kit but is more likely to be posing in bars than lugging a huge bag of papers through the muck in the City in the pissing rain.
Can't really put it better than Andy Gates' fabulous analysis:
Ich bin ein fraudax: Carradice luggage on steel, but only turns up for a couple of rides a year, easy sociable ones, to be seen. You'll not see me grovelling up Old Ballbreaker Pass or kipping in a skip at 4am, oh no, I'll be washing my bike on the days those rides are happening.
That must mean I'm a fraudaxer (although mine is Carradice or Brooks on titanium rather than steel) as I've never gone up Ole Ballbreaker Pass or slept in a skip at 4.00 a.m. (well, not whilst cycling).
However, I have audaxed (short ones admittedly) and done the Dun Run, which must count as an honorary audax...