The only currency your reader cares about

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Don’t let the socialists hear about this one:

Back in 1832, a horse-and-man organization called the Equitable Labor Exchange issued a unique currency.

This currency looked much like your everyday money (with numbers and signatures and familiar font and color)…

It also functioned much like money (you could use it to pay at local London shops, several theaters, and even a tollgate)…

But unlike money, which is an abstract, bodyless entity, each unit of this currency represented something hard and definite:

One hour of labor.

This time-currency was conceived by one Robert Owen, a do-gooding factory owner who wanted to unleash prosperity and happiness on 19th-century Britain.

The start of Owen’s plan looked promising. Within 17 weeks, the Equitable Labor Exchange had deposits worth 440,000 work hours.

But ultimately, the project turned out to be a failure. The system was rewarding inefficiency. The Equitable Labor Exchange and its time-money disappeared a few years later.

Still, Robert Owen was on to a good idea, at least for copywriting.

Because even though we all assume copywriting prospects are moved by money, the same problem exists today:

Money remains an abstract, shapeless, bodyless entity.

Fortunately, money can buy you lots of shapeful, concrete things. And so you can convince readers of the value of what you’re selling, not by repeating numbers with a dollar sign in front of them… but by converting money into what it does:

So $0.24 becomes a romantic dinner over a bowl of Maruchan instant ramen…

$12.99 becomes a year’s worth of fun and insight, reading Modern Cat magazine…

And $19.84 becomes 10 gallons of gasoline, which by my back-of-the-envelope math, is enough to power a chainsaw long enough to cut down 280 oak trees. That’s a small forest!

Maybe I’m not tempting you with these dumb examples. But I think you get the point.

As long as you do your research, so you know what your prospect really values and wants, you can figure out a way to translate ugly, meaningless cyphers into that other currency your reader actually cares about.

And that can mean more money for you — and everything else that money can buy.

An easy guiding principle to creating vision in your prospects

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Once upon a time, somewhere in America, there lived a very successful life insurance salesman.

He couldn’t speak, and he was bound to a wheelchair.

And yet, when it came to selling life insurance, the man was tremendous.

He used a marker and a little dry-erase board to communicate. Patiently, he would write his questions on the board, and then he’d hand it over to his prospects. His most effective question, the one that flipped the switch and lit up his prospects’ brains, was:

“If we lose you, where will your family live?”

I read this story in Jim Camp’s Start with No. Camp used it to illustrate the power of painting a vision of the prospect’s pain. “No vision,” Camp used to say, “no decision.”

Of course, in written copy, it’s not always the best choice to start asking questions. The dynamic is different than when you have a real person sitting across from you. But the same principle applies.

Create vision in your prospects.

There are lots of tricks and techniques for doing it. But there’s one easy guiding principle that lords above them all:

Create a vision in yourself first.

Your prospects will pick up on it, however you choose to communicate, and they will make the decision — the one you’d like for them to make.

A return to Mad Men-era Ulcer Gulch?

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There’s a scene from Mad Men that’s stuck with me for years:

Grey-haired Roger Sterling, the senior partner of the Sterling Cooper advertising agency, is on the phone with his wife.

“I am drinking my milk,” he reassures her. And sure enough, he’s got a half-full glass of milk in front of him. He then tops it up with vodka and drinks it down.

The vodka was there because it feels good. The milk, on the other hand, was supposed to treat ulcers. Turns out, ulcers were considered a badge of success on Madison Avenue, because all the high-ranking executives like Roger had them.

In fact, around the middle of the 20th century, Madison Avenue was popularly known as “Ulcer Gulch.” Which made me think of something I heard in an interview with marketer Rich Schefren. Says Rich:

“Most entrepreneurs make the mistake of putting their self-growth goals ahead of their business success.”

This made my long, furry ears perk up. It sounded like Rich was advocating a return to Ulcer Gulch. But no.

What Rich was really saying (as he explained a bit later in the interview) is that you need a business that you can do now, as you are. In other words, you shouldn’t wait to become a different person before you can start a successful business.

This sounds right to me. What business success I’ve had – my copywriting career, those Amazon bestsellers I mentioned a few days ago, a few recent partnerships — used the skills, experiences, and mindset I already had. And that was good enough.

On the other hand, whenever I’ve tried to start some kind of venture that sounded great on paper, but was more than a step removed from where I was currently, I always failed. That’s happened more times than I can count.

So what does this mean for you? Probably nothing. But perhaps, you can get out a pen and a piece of paper, pour yourself a glass of cold vodka-milk, and start listing ideas for services or products you can offer to the world right now — without mastering a new field, becoming a better public speaker, or getting more motivated.

​​Putting these kinds of restrictions on your idea generation can stir up creativity. And who knows, you might hit upon something that leads to real business success, without the ulcers.

General Patton and 4 top copywriters

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“The difficulty in understanding the Russian is that we do not take cognizance of the fact that he is not a European, but an Asiatic, and therefore thinks deviously. We can no more understand a Russian than a Chinaman or a Japanese, and from what I have seen of them, I have no particular desire to understand them, except to ascertain how much lead or iron it takes to kill them. In addition to his other Asiatic characteristics, the Russian has no regard for human life and is an all out son of bitch, barbarian, and chronic drunk.”
— General George S. Patton, August 8 1945

Why is Patton the most famous American military man, at least among those who never became president?

You might say it’s his wartime performance. That might be so. I’m not a history buff so I can’t say. But my guess is there were lots of other great generals in American history who never became household names. Why Patton?

Maybe it’s the Oscar-winning movie that was made about him, which had the Francis Ford Coppola golden touch. But this raises the question, why make a movie about Patton? I’ll tell you my theory.

Patton became famous because people perceived him as a true leader, and they perceived him as a leader because he was (among a few other things) so unflinchingly opinionated.

Look at the quote above. It’s so stupid. Not just by 2020 standards, but by 1945 standards. But the content of what you say doesn’t matter much as long as you say it with enough fury, conviction, and disregard for what others think.

I have another theory: I believe most people (myself included) have this empty socket in their brain. We are constantly looking for an authority to plug into that empty socket, if only for a little while. The appeal of strongmen like Patton is one manifestation of this… but so is our obsession with celebrities… or even the popularity of concerts and clubs.

All of which has clear implications for persuasion. While doable, it might be hard to get to Patton-like levels of opinionatedness and charisma in real life. But if you’re writing, say a sales letter, then you can definitely whip yourself up into the right kind of certainty and frenzy, and channel that across the page.

Speaking of writing sales letters and authority, I listened to an interesting discussion today between four top copywriters. They were Stefan Georgi, Chris Haddad, Justin Goff, and Dan Ferrari.

Odds are, you’ve already watched this discussion. But if you haven’t yet, it’s worthwhile. There’s nothing tactical being discussed on this call, but there’s a lot of behind the scenes thinking that might interest you if you’re into copywriting or persuasion. Here’s the link:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ThUusBt1dIM

My little-known history as an Amazon ebook hack

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A-list copywriter Bob Bly just sent out an email about the National Emergency Library. I’d heard of this initiative but I didn’t bother to look it up until now.

Turns out, the Internet Archive is scanning books and making them freely available online during the corona situation. That’s the National Emergency Library. To which Mary Rasenberger, director of the Authors Guild, said (and I quote from Bob’s email):

“[It is] no different than any other piracy sites. If you can get anything that you want that’s on Internet Archives for free, why are you going to buy an ebook.”

I don’t know about you, but to me this sounds like the old argument about sex and marriage. Why buy the cow, when there’s an app that hooks you up with free milk, even at 3am.

And yet… plenty of people are still getting married these days. How come? Riddle me that, Mary.

But seriously, here’s a little-known fact about me:

For about a year of my life, I eked a meager living by writing ebooks and selling them through Amazon Kindle publishing. (Don’t search for the books because they were all published under pseudonyms.)

I actually sold thousands of copies of these books — but it didn’t mean much. Kindle ebooks sell for a couple of bucks each.

Thing is, had I known as much about marketing back then as I do now, I wouldn’t have failed or given up on my Kindle publishing dreams.

That’s because selling books on Amazon (or really, on any outside platform) is not a good way to make money. It is, however, a fantastic way to get highly qualified leads who have tried a glass of your milk, and who want more.

That means you can get these folks over to your site and sell them more milk — maybe at a higher price than what Amazon encourages you to charge.

Why stop there though?

If somebody likes you and knows you and trusts you, why limit your offer to a carton or two of milk?

Instead, take your new-found customer by the hand to the back of your property… open the barn door… and introduce her to your gorgeous cow. It might be just the bovine your customer has been looking for all her life.

In other words, if the National Emergency Library, the National Milk Authority, or any other pirate institution starts giving away samples of your money-maker for free, it might not be the end of the world. It might even be the start of something great. As multi-millionaire marketer Joe Sugarman once said:

“Each problem has hidden in it an opportunity so powerful that it literally dwarfs the problem. The greatest success stories were created by people who recognized a problem & turned it into an opportunity.”

Sharing news about new in five minutes or less

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There are two things I want to share with you today. One is news, the other is new. Let’s start with news:

I read an article today about how the media failed to predict the corona situation — and that’s why their initial reporting was so complacent.

To which I made the Scooby Doo “huh?” noise. Because from what I’ve seen over the years, the media doesn’t do prediction, at least not seriously. Instead, the media reports on the status quo.

Before the corona situation exploded, the status quo was complacency. Now, the status quo is panic, and the media is reporting accordingly. When the pandemic begins to wane and it’s time for things to go back to normal, the media message will likely be obliviousness that anything bad ever happened.

Which brings up this distinction between news and new. I first heard it from computer scientist Alan Kay. Says Alan,

“News is stuff that’s incremental to what we already know. This is why you can tell the news in five minutes. ‘Hey, a train just crashed.’ We all know what that means. […] New is by definition not like what we already know. There’s no news about new. There’s nothing you can tell somebody in five minutes about what new is.”

So I got two takeaways for you:

First, I’m not sure if it’s possible to do a good job predicting the future. Perhaps, among enough people, a few just get lucky.

But, if it is possible, then like Alan Kay says above, it’s unlikely you’ll find the future on the evening news, on Facebook, or on Vox.

But really, we’re here to talk about marketing.

So the other thing I want to tell you is how this news vs. new business can make you money. This is something I heard from marketer Todd Brown.

I didn’t know who Todd Brown was until recently. Apparently, he’s a big name in the IM space, and he’s worked with Jay Abraham, Clayton Makepeace, and Rich Schefren.

Todd’s message was that, whenever you’re positioning a new offer, you should never present it as an incremental improvement over the status quo (ie. news). Instead, always look for a way to present your offer as something entirely new and different — a marketplace of one.

“But hold on,” you might say. “Your offer should be something new… and yet there is no way to share news about new. So how do you convince prospects to buy in?”

That’s a good question. And it’s something I’m trying to answer in my new book on the use of insight in marketing. I’m making good progress on this book, and I hope to finish it in the next six to seven years (just kidding, hopefully another month or so).

If you’d like to get notified when it comes out, sign up for my daily email newsletter and you will get more emails from me about it.

The persuasion moral of the cock and the jewel

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Let’s start with a short story:

“A COCK, scratching for food for himself and his hens, found a precious stone and exclaimed: ‘If your owner had found thee, and not I, he would have taken thee up, and have set thee in thy first estate; but I have found thee for no purpose. I would rather have one barleycorn than all the jewels in the world.'”

If the old English puts you off, I can understand. And I’m sorry. Please don’t keep reading in that case.

If you’re still with me, what would you say is the moral of this story? Think about it, and we will get back to it in a second.

Meanwhile, let me tell you this is one of Aesop’s fables.

Aesop’s fables have been used for thousands of years to give pithy illustrations to situations we’ve all experienced but we don’t have a good and short name for. Like sour grapes. Or the boy who cried wolf. Two more of Aesop’s fables. I bet you know what those two mean.

But what about the cock and the jewel above? To start to answer that, let me first share a quote with you from a book I’m reading about analogies, written by one John Pollack, and titled Shortcut:

“The degree to which an analogy is or is not ‘accurate’ in a given circumstance is irrelevant, it is the feelings and ideas they evoke that makes them so powerful.”

Fact is, we humans love stories and analogies and fables so much that we are really not too critical about them. We accept the implied meaning and we take it for granted.

Of course, that’s good news for persuaders, influencers, and manipulators of all stripes. As one magician of persuasion, Gary Bencivenga, wrote a while ago:

“This process of transferring the qualities of one thing into another takes place instantly, bypassing critical analysis and resistance. All you do is compare A to B in an effective way and voila! your point is made instantly without disagreement.”

There’s good science behind why this is so, but I won’t go into that now, because I am so concerned with the cock and the jewel.

What does this fable really mean?

The best I can do is to point you to an article titled “The Moral of the Story.”

It was written a couple years ago by an actual poet named Anthony Madrid. If the mention of poetry scares you, as it scares me, then I want you to take a deep breath and relax. Because Anthony Madrid’s articles are all easy to read and fun, and they are mind-opening if you’re interested in language.

​​So here’s “The Moral of the Story,” which explains the moral of the “Cock and the Jewel,” or rather, the half dozen contradictory morals that have been scratched up over the centuries:

https://www.theparisreview.org/blog/2018/11/21/the-moral-of-the-story/

Gratuitous fun to make readers beg for buttermilk

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For the first 20 or 30 years of my life, I had this serious mental defect where I couldn’t enjoy a good bangemup action movie.

“So unrealistic,” I snuffled. “So predictable.” That’s how I wasted decades of my life.

Thank God I’ve grown up. Because I just watched and enjoyed True Lies, James Cameron’s 1994 action comedy, starring Arnold Schwarzenegger as super spy/boring suburban dad Harry Tasker, and Jamie Lee Curtis as his stodgy/talented wife Helen.

The initial reason I watched True Lies was the following famous line, delivered by a used car salesman who’s trying to seduce Helen… and who is unwittingly confiding to Harry about it:

“And she’s got the most incredible body, too, and a pair of titties that make you wanna stand up and beg for buttermilk. Ass like a ten year old boy!”

Which modern Hollywood screenplay would dare have that?

But even beyond the risky dialogue, I was surprised by how fun this movie is. I guess that’s the only word to describe it. For example, as the movie goes on, you get to see:

– an old man sitting on a public toilet, calmly reading a newspaper, during the first shootout between Harry and the bad guy

– Harry riding a horse into an elevator, and an aristocratic couple in the elevator getting whipped in the face by the horse’s tail

– Tia Carrere (the evil seductress in the movie) rushing to grab her purse before the bad guys drop a box with a nuclear warhead onto it

– a pelican landing on a teetering van full of terrorists and sending it crashing off the bridge

– Harry saving the day flying a military jet, perfectly landing the plane, and then accidentally bumping a cop car

The point is that all these details are what I call “gratuitous fun.”

They weren’t in any way central to the action of the movie… and even the comedic part of the plot could have done without them.

They were just pure, unnecessary fun that made the movie sparkle a bit more. And I guess they helped it become the success that it was, netting almost $400 million in 1994 dollars.

I think the message is clear:

This year, surprise your readers with some gratuitous fun in your online content, in your sales messages, and even your one-to-one business communication. People love James Cameron’s movies. They will love your stuff, too. In fact, you’ll make them wanna stand up and beg for buttermilk. Whatever that means.

Machiavellian logic applied to your next sales letter

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“Because this is to be asserted in general of men, that they are ungrateful, fickle, false, cowardly, covetous, and as long as you succeed they are yours entirely; they will offer you their blood, property, life, and children, as is said above, when the need is far distant; but when it approaches they turn against you.”
– Niccolo Machiavelli, The Prince

Direct response marketing doesn’t expose you to the most noble parts of the human soul.

Fear… greed… shame… vanity… these are the lowest common denominators we appeal to reliably in order to close the sale.

Sometimes it’s clear which of these appeals you have to go with — your offer or your market simply says so.

But what if you have a choice? Are some of these snarling, slobbering, psychological gremlins stronger than others?

Well, Niccolo Machiavelli, who would probably own many direct response businesses had he lived today instead of in the 16th century, has something to say about general human nature in his quote above.

Men are fickle and swayed by the present moment, says Machiavelli. In other words, just because someone starts, say, writing a book today, that doesn’t mean he will continue to work on it next week. And vice versa. Just because a man will suffer from a hangover tomorrow, that doesn’t mean he won’t drink tonight. So let’s take that as the first axiom of Machiavellian mathematics:

Present >>> Future

Moving on. Here’s a second Machiavelli quote:

“And men have less scruple in offending one who is beloved than one who is feared, for love is preserved by the link of obligation which, owing to the baseness of men, is broken at every opportunity for their advantage; but fear preserves you by a dread of punishment which never fails.”

What is Machiavelli saying here? Maybe I’m reading into it, but it sounds like he’s saying people are motivated more by negative emotions than by positive ones. Or in precise mathematical notation:

Pain >>> Gain

Of course, there are going to be exceptions to this. Some individuals and some markets will be immune to these nasty Machiavellian laws. After all, people volunteered to cross Antarctica by sled 100 years ago.

But don’t bet the house on it. Most of the time, if you’re in doubt, remember the two axioms above. And in particular, remember it will take an enormous amount of future gain to outweigh even a little bit of present pain.

A primate’s copywriting epiphany

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Many, many Aprils ago, I read a book titled A Primate’s Memoir. The author was one Robert Sapolsky, a Stanford biologist who studies baboons.

Based on the title, I assumed the book was going to be the made-up diary of a baboon. After reading the first 50 pages, I realized I was wrong. The book was not a made-up diary, but real, and the primate was not a baboon, but Sapolsky.

I’ve had a soft spot for Robert Sapolsky and his humor ever since, and I’ve continued to read his books. Right now, I’m also watching his excellent series of lectures on YouTube about evolution and behavior. And today, while watching these lectures, I learned something new to me:

95% of human DNA doesn’t code for any kind of protein. In other words, only 5% of DNA actually has any kind of productive output. The rest of our DNA — 95% of it — simply controls when that productive 5% of DNA gets turned on and how.

And now let me tell you a second story, this one about copywriting:

A few months back, I got hired to write an upsell VSL. There was already a control in place, which was doing ok, but the company wanted to see if I could do better.

“No problem,” I said to myself. “This control doesn’t really emphasize consistency or urgency, and it does very little to sell this particular solution.”

In short, I wrote the new VSL. And in spite of all my consistency, urgency, and selling, the new VSL did no better than the control.

But then the CEO of the company noticed a tiny detail. “We forgot to include the headline you sent us.”

Keep in mind, this was a VSL. People aren’t reading, they’re watching and listening. The headline was just a bit of copy above the video itself. I wasn’t hopeful it would make any kind of difference.

And yet, two days ago, I got an email from the CEO, letting me know that my headline + VSL are in fact beating the control by 50%. Which is definitely nice, especially since there are royalties in play here.

On the other hand, it makes me wonder what I’m doing with my time. I spent two weeks working on that VSL copy… and it had no effect on its own. It was only when that headline was included that the copy actually seemed to get activated.

You can see now why this made me think of Robert Sapolsky, and the 95% of DNA that does nothing but activate or deactivate the “payload” DNA.

As copywriters, we spend so much time agonizing over structure… sales arguments… consistency, urgency, and all the other Cialdini buzzwords…

And yet, 95% of the time, all that stuff doesn’t even get activated. The offer is a bust, or we chose the wrong headline, or there’s something wrong with the design, or we sent the promotion out a week too early or too late.

I’m not sure what my point is, except to share this epiphany with you, and reassure you that if your copy underperforms, it probably had nothing to do with the copy itself. (95% certainty at least.) And also, to advise you to put yourself in a position, as soon as you can, where you can run different pieces of copy frequently — more often than every few weeks, or God forbid, every few months.