Psychology Behind Advertising

GROHMO trumps FOMO?

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Painful personal confession:

I went to high school right up the street from the offices of various Agora companies.

Unfortunately, this was long ago, at a time when I had never heard of copywriting. So when school would get out, I’d spend my afternoons identifying local trees and kicking cans around the abandoned cement factory.

Had I been smarter, I would have gotten a job cleaning ashtrays at Agora HQ. And bit by bit, I probably would have learned enough about copywriting to be a multimillionaire today.

I bring this up because I recently applied for a copywriting job. Not a freelance project. A proper job.

I tell myself there are lots of good reasons why I applied.

My reasons are all the stuff you can put in a cover letter:

​​I could learn a lot. It could be a step forward in my career. I like the people I might be working with.

In other words, it’s a great opportunity. And I don’t wanna miss out. Except…

Would any of this really count had I not missed out already, in a much bigger way, back in high school?

I recently heard Dan Kennedy talk about writing for the opportunity market. You know, business opportunities and get rich quick stuff. Like copywriting.

And Dan said something that matches my experience above:

Lots of times, the real motivator is not the opportunity in front of us now, which we don’t want to miss.

Rather, it’s the opportunities dead and gone, which we have missed already.

The guilt and regret over having missed out yesterday (GROHMO) is really the underlying cause that makes us susceptible to FOMO today.

And if you’re a smart marketer or copywriter, you can exploit this. You can put up a bunch of pictures of smiling and satisfied men and women and say,

“Look at them. That could’ve been you. These men and women acted when you didn’t. And look at them now. Look at how happy they are. And as for you… well… don’t feel too bad. Because I have some good news. A new opportunity just opened up…”

And it’s true:

I’ve been promoting my email newsletter for a long while. Over time, I’ve had many people sign up. They have been amused and sometimes moved along the way.

More importantly, they’ve learned a lot and they’ve been exposed to copywriting and marketing ideas, like the one above.

These ideas I share have helped my subscribers make more money, enjoy their businesses more, all while working much less.

In other words, my email newsletter is quite the opportunity. Not to be missed out on. Especially since it’s not clear how long it will go for, in case I get a proper job.

In case you want to join before the opportunity disappears, here’s where to go.

Green Valley must fire its warehouse manager

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Last week, supplement company Green Valley, which was founded by A-list copywriter Lee Euler, sent out a panicked email that started with:

Dear John,

We discovered somewhat of a sticky situation last week…

So I’m hoping maybe we can help each other out…

You see, late last week our warehouse manager called to let me know that we have NO room for a large shipment that’s already on its way to our fulfillment facility here in Virginia…

That means I now have to get rid of a few pallets worth of one of our top sellers…

So, I’m knocking 70% off Gluco-Secure—a natural breakthrough shown to…

I don’t know who’s at fault here. But I find the warehouse manager’s “not my circus, not my monkeys” attitude contemptible. ​​Particularly since he allowed a similar situation to happen last September. That’s when Green Valley sent out an email that started:

Dear John,

I never do this.

But I have a small problem and I think maybe we can help each other out.

Yesterday afternoon the Green Valley warehouse manager let me know that they have NO room in the warehouse for a truckload shipment of product that’s scheduled for delivery next week.

Somehow wires got crossed but it turns out we have 4 pallets of our top-selling joint pain formula that we need to clear out FAST to make room quickly for new inventory.

So, I’m doing something I never do…

I’m knocking 70% off a powerful joint-healing discovery…

Somehow wires got crossed?

Twice in under one year?

I don’t know what this warehouse manager is doing all day long. He’s clearly not doing his job. That’s why I say Green Valley must fire him, and must do it now.

But one person they shouldn’t fire is their email copywriter. Because that guy obviously knows about the power of reason why marketing.

Reason why is the most widespread and effective click, whirr mechanism in advertising.

​​Click, whirr, by the way, is the useful but somewhat-dated analogy Robert Cialdini used in his book Influence. You press the tape player button click, and whirr goes the automated behavior tape.

The incredible thing is that, just as with canned laughter and obvious flattery, reason why is effective even when it’s blatantly untrue.

I’m not saying you should lie… but you might choose to stretch the truth, until it turns into a reason why.

Because reason why works on you too. So if you ever need to justify why stretching the truth is ok, you can always say, for your own peace of mind and your customer’s,

“I never do this. But I have a small problem and I think maybe we can help each other out…”

Speaking of sticky situations:

I recently had an influx of new subscribers to my email newsletter. And I’m getting really close to a big round number of subscribers that I’ve always coveted.

So I’m going to do something I never do, in the hopes of quickly filling up those extra few newsletter subscriber spots.

For today only, I’m opening up my email newsletter to anybody to subscribe, for free, right here on this page. This opportunity might not come again for a long time. If you’re the type to grab a great opportunity when you see it, click here to subscribe now.

Humans are not savages, but they can be made so on demand

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Yesterday, I read a fantastic yet true story, a kind of real-life Lord of the Flies. Except the outcome was very different from the book:

As you might know, Lord of the Flies is a story about a bunch of boys who get shipwrecked on an island.

Pretty soon, they become mean, thuggish, and destructive. Some of the boys are killed by the others. Half the island is burned down.

What can you do? People are savages, and kids even more so. Except maybe not:

The real-life version of this story involves six boys from the island kingdom of Tonga.

They were bored stiff at their English boarding school.

So they decided to steal a local fisherman’s boat and sail away to adventure, and maybe even make it to New Zealand.

They didn’t make it.

After months of search, the boys were declared dead back home. Funerals were held for them.

And then, 15 months later, they were discovered by an Australian adventurer fishing in the waters around an uninhabited island named ‘Ata. The boys had shiprecked there and survived, alone all that time.

And here’s the real-life twist:

All six boys were happy, healthy, and harmonious.

They had survived by eating fish and coconuts and drinking rainwater collected in hollowed-out tree trunks.

They had broken up their chores, such as gardening, cooking, and guard duty, and they took turns doing them.

They built a gym and a badminton court, and they played a makeshift guitar made out of the wreckage of the boat.

When one of the boys fell down a ravine and broke his leg, the others climbed down after him, brought him back up, then set his leg using sticks and leaves. He recovered while the other boys took turns doing his chores.

So is this really the true nature of human beings?

​​And if so, why does your typical junior high school look nothing like it?

​​Why does Lord of the Flies resonate with us instead?

The answer comes from another real-life variant of the Lord of the Flies theme. A bunch of people stranded on an uninhabited island… with a TV crew and a prize to be won.

I’m talking about the TV show Survivor. I’ve never watched it, but I know the basic setup:

Direct competition for something scarce.

It’s all you need to turn people into savages. A finding that’s been repeated in different settings, not just on reality TV.

So let me leave off today by saying I can see two options:

One is to disconnect as much as possible from the doctrine of healthy competition. This might require moving to a deserted island, or at least turning off the TV.

The other option is not to disconnect from anything, but to profit from it. Because creating scarcity, even when there is none, and encouraging competition, or at least reminding people of it, is a great means of control.

Marinate on that for a bit. And if you want more real-life stories on the topic of profit and control, you might like my email newsletter. But better be quick, because spots are limited and others are taking them as you read this. Click here to sign up.

Dan Kennedy and a Lamborghini inside this post I’ve just written

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Dan Kennedy stood up in front of a packed room of marketers and said,

“Let me tell you how cheap Fred Catona is.”

Dan was supposed to be giving a dutiful introduction for billion-dollar direct marketer Fred Catona. But somewhere it all went wrong.

“He gives me this ridiculous introduction to read for him,” Dan said while holding multiple sheets of paper, “and he only puts a 20 in it.” And from among the papers, Dan pulled out a $20 bill to prove his point.

Turns out this was a joke. Dan and Fred were close friends.

But it is instructive, right? Because it’s such a pattern interrupt from the way introductions are usually done:

“We’re very pleased to have Mr. XY with us tonight. Mr XY went to such-and-such elite university…”

“… he is a close friend and confidant of celebrity Z and power-broker H…”

“… he has worked with billion-dollar clients such as A and B and C.”

And then humble Mr. XY, with his killer resume revealed, comes out on stage, blushing and yet pleased. He takes the mic and says, “Wow, thank you for that wonderful introduction…”

My point is this:

Association is the most powerful mechanisms of the human mind, that I know of at least.

You put two things together. Just once, and not even for very long. And the human brain starts to make connections between them. Properties of one seep into the other. Causal links form. A halo appears.

So that’s why, if you went to Harvard… if you hung out with Tony Robbins once… if you ever had a Lamborghini in your garage, whether owned or rented… well, you should highlight those things to people you just met, or who just found you online.

Or even better, have somebody else highlight it, so you don’t have to do it. It will make you seem both powerful and humble. Well, unless you get somebody like Dan Kennedy to read out your list of accomplishments.

And what if you have no accomplishments?

Then find cool, impressive, or elite people… institutions… or ideas to associate yourself with. It can be the flimsiest of associations, and it will still help your standing.

That’s my simple tip for you for today.

A more complex tip, for another day, is to be careful.

​​Because association is not the only mechanism in the human brain. And if people start to associate you as that guy who always shows off his Lamborghini, well, that can lead to new challenges of its own. But more about that another time.

If you want to read that other time:

You might like to know that several Agora copywriters, famous Internet marketing gurus, and 8-figure entrepreneurs read my daily email newsletter. You can sign up for it here.

Stop daydreaming for once and read this

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Listen up you dreamer:

One day back in 1999, after Gordon Ramsay opened his first restaurant, he got a tableful of famous visitors.

There was Joan Collins of Dynasty fame. Then model Nicola Formby. And finally A.A. Gill, the food critic for The Sunday Times.

But Gill had earlier written a nasty review of Ramsay’s restaurant.

So Ramsay left his kitchen, walked over to the table, and kicked the whole group out.

Speaking later, an emotional A.A. Gill said:

“He seems to be a classic bully. Somebody who will overreact to people beneath him. And then feel terribly aggrieved when somebody he doesn’t have innate power over criticizes him.”

Sounds about right, yeah?

Ramsay is famous for his outbursts. (“Will he be able to control it?” asks the breathless TV teaser.)

He yells. He insults. He curses.

“Yes, Gordon,” his humbled staff reply, eyes on the floor.

​​And that’s my takeaway for you today.

A while ago, I made a brain dump of ideas on the topic of “natural authority.” What do people who have inborn charisma seem to share?

One of the things on my list was that they target the weak. You know. The poor, the friendless, the tax collectors and sinners.

Because as powerful as natural authority is, it won’t work reliably on a healthy, stable person without any gaping emotional wounds.

But the insight I learned recently, through Mike Mandel and Chris Thompson, is that people with natural authority can create emotional wounds. On demand.

One way is just what Gordon Ramsay does. Insults, humiliation, browbeating. Not all the time. But enough that there’s always a risk of it.

And here’s my addition to this theory:

I believe that a “temper,” as TV calls it, is not only a means to natural authority. It’s also a signal of it.

In other words, you don’t have to get personally insulted by a would-be leader in order for his authority to rise in your eyes. It’s enough to see it happen to somebody else. For example, to an emotional food critic, getting kicked out, while a restaurant full of people watches.

That’s why as a society, we love people like Ramsay. Sure, it’s both horrifying and entertaining to watch others getting cowed and humiliated. But it also feeds our need to look to a charismatic leader.

And by the way:
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You can see the same in various corners of the online guru and influencer world.

​​Now that you know this, you can choose to use it yourself — or at least be aware of what’s happening in your own head, when you witness others using it.

One last thing:

Sign up to my email list.

What are you standing there and looking for? You dreamer. Click the link already and sign up.

Watching the birth of a new belief

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My point today is not to stir up outrage. That’s because I myself don’t like outrage, even though it’s good for business.

But I find the following flip-flop story fascinating. It shows how a new belief is born, although at a mass mind level. And I think this can help you when you write copy.

So here goes, from today’s Axios World newsletter:

“President Biden ordered the U.S. intelligence community on Wednesday to ‘redouble their efforts’ to determine whether COVID-19 first emerged from a laboratory in Wuhan or through animal-to-human transmission.”

Redouble their efforts, huh?

That’s surprising. Because as you might remember, a year ago, there was exactly zero chance coronavirus came from a lab. Why exactly zero chance? Because scientists agreed. A few headlines from February and March 2020:

Financial Times: “Coronavirus was not genetically engineered in a Wuhan lab, says expert”

USA Today: “Fact check: Coronavirus not man-made or engineered but its origin remains unclear”

Science: “Scientists ‘strongly condemn’ rumors and conspiracy theories about origin of coronavirus outbreak”

Ok, on to human psychology. Here are a few things I believe to be true:

1. Individual human beliefs are driven by deep needs we are mostly not aware of

2. Beliefs are a mental shortcut for a complex underlying situation that we can’t keep in our heads

3. At the surface level, beliefs are summarized and justified by logical sound bites

Phew, that was boring, right? Because all that stuff I just told you is really abstract. You can’t really “see” it.

Our brains aren’t good at seeing how brains themselves work.

Fortunately, we can look at the mass mind.

It’s not a perfect proxy for individual human brains. But it can still be useful. Plus it’s so big and so slow-moving, allowing us more insight.

And that’s why I’m telling you about this corona story.

A year ago, there were certain underlying needs in the world. I’m not sure what they were, but they demanded the belief that corona is not lab-made. As a result, facts were found to support this belief, and only sound bites like the above headlines bubbled up to the surface. A belief was born.

Today, it sure sounds like the underlying needs have changed. And now the mass mind wants to believe, for whatever reason, in the lab-made origin, or at least its strong possibility.

So we are redoubling efforts to find facts to support this belief. And since the world is very complex, we’re sure to be successful. In fact, just now, I came across the following article by Matt Yglesias:

“The media’s lab leak fiasco: A huge fuckup, with perhaps not-so-huge policy stakes”

So that’s why I’m saying this can help you with copywriting. Because when you write copy, your real work is playing with those deep-down, hidden needs. You can give people logical sound bites, and it might help your case, but only when the right underlying conditions are there.

And maybe this corona origin story can make that real for you, can allow you to see it, so you can truly believe it.

That said, if you are interested in the strange politics of corona origins, here’s the article that put this whole topic on my radar. In case this beliefs-in-the-mass-mind stuff turns you on, take a look:

https://thebulletin.org/2021/05/the-origin-of-covid-did-people-or-nature-open-pandoras-box-at-wuhan/

I like you and here’s why

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I mean it. I like you. I will tell you why, but first, let me tell you what just happened to me:

I called an Uber to go from one end of town to the other. I waited on the curb. And when the Uber came, he drove right by me.

He then stopped in the middle of the road and put on his hazard lights.

What to do? I dodged traffic to get to the middle of the road. But as I was nearing the Uber, he drove off.

I watched him drive down the block and turn the corner. I then dodged traffic again and got back on the curb.

What to do, a second time? I followed down the block and around the corner.

Fortunately, the driver had pulled over. I managed to catch him and get in.

“It’s my first day on the job,” he said.

We took off, but his GPS was completely out of whack. It told us to go in the opposite direction from where we were headed.

The driver claimed to know the city but he didn’t. So I gave him directions, in between listening to his stories from the last regional war, a topic I am not fond of hearing about.

After a half hour of this, we made it to my destination. And it turned out the driver had never started the ride inside his Uber app.

That’s why the GPS was completely messed up.

It also meant he wouldn’t get paid. He seemed bewildered and nonplussed.

​​”Take it easy,” I said, “we’ll solve it.” ​​So I walked him through canceling the ride in the app. And I pulled out my wallet and gave him cash, even though I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t already be charged in some way for the ride.​​
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So the question becomes:

​Why help this guy out, in spite of the hassles and discomfort he put me through, instead of just bolting from the car and saying, “Thanks and good luck!”​

One option of course is that I’m just a kind and decent person. But knowing myself as I do… well, let’s look for alternate explanations.

A second option was the guy’s disarming helplessness. There is something to wanting to help people who are extremely unokay.

But there’s a third option, too.

Because as we were nearing the end of our trip, the Uber driver told me:

“I’m glad I met you. Not just as a customer, but as a person. I feel I could learn a lot from you.” This I guess was his response to my keeping intelligently silent while he talked the whole way.

The fact is, we all respond to flattery. Even when there’s little or no basis for it.

Car salesman Joe Girard, who sold an average of 5 cars a day and holds the Guinness World Record for the sellingest car salesman, sent out postcards to his customers every month.

​​The occasion to each mailing would be different — Christmas, National Bath Safety Month, Valentine’s Day. But each month, the message would always be the same 3 words:

I like you.

Of course, while flattery works, it’s even better if you compliment somebody earnestly. So let me repeat I like you and tell you that, while I don’t know much about you, I can infer a few good things with confidence.

Such as that you’re interested in improving yourself, learning, and developing your skills. And that you’re willing to read to do it. And that you’re probably interested in writing too, or creating content rather than just consuming it. All these are good qualities, and ones I’m trying to develop also.

So that’s it. No pitch. But if you do want to stay in touch with me, one option is to sign up to my daily email un-newsletter.

Why gamification fails (and how to use this to create fanatically loyal customers)

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Here’s a riddle for you from the book review I shared yesterday:

You might remember the gamification craze from the beginning of this decade. App creators were convinced that adding badges, randomness, and leveling up to any activity would make it irresistible.

​​And yet, despite following a lot of the same strategies that gambling machine designers did, those app creators never did create an army of self-improvement addicts.

​​If designers optimized gambling machines for addictiveness, why can’t they do the same for these apps? If bad machines can be made addictive, then why can’t good machines?

The anonymous author of the book review gives a few possible answers. But he or she is not happy with any of them.

I don’t know the answer either. But I can tell you the answer to a related riddle, which goes like this:

Why do hazing rituals for college fraternities never involve anything useful or positive?

You know the rituals I’m talking about. A college freshman wants to get into a fraternity. So he’s given a beating by his future fraternity brothers… he’s told to spend the night outside in freezing weather wearing nothing but a loincloth… and he’s forced to eat a pound of raw beef liver.

If he survives all this, he gets into the fraternity.

But why exactly those nasty and humiliating tasks? Why not combine the humiliating with the useful?

Why don’t fraternities make new recruits wash some train station toilets… or change the adult diapers of incontinent senior citizens… or collect litter from the side of a highway on a sweltering August day?

The answer, according to slot machine designer Robert Cialdini, is this:

“They want to make the men own what they have done. No excuses, no ways out are allowed.”

Cialdini claims that the point of hazing rituals is to make new recruits fanatical about their new fraternity membership, once they achieve it.

Hazing rituals work brilliantly for this goal. But there’s a catch:

The ritual tasks HAVE to be pointless.

Otherwise a new member can convince himself that some other good came out of all that humiliation and pain… which takes away from the value of the fraternity.

In other words, whenever we do something because of added motives — whether positive or negative — we don’t end up owning that behavior fully. We don’t make it a part of our identity.

And that I think can be a good answer to why slot machines are so addicting… while your Duo Lingo app is not.

Of course, I also think this ties into running a business. Even though it’s at odds with much direct response wisdom.

I think you can use this insight to create fanatically loyal customers… as opposed to customers who abandon you and forget you at the first turn in the road. Which is exactly what happens to most direct response businesses.

To me, it seems the application is obvious… but if it’s not, sign up for my email newsletter. It’s a topic I might discuss more in the future… or I might not.

A harmless but effective trick used for decades by the most daring and successful copywriters in the world

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I did everything they told me to do.

I snuck around at night, posting bandit signs, hoping nobody would see me… I spent hours driving around, searching for junky abandoned houses… I went into places of business and, when nobody was looking, because it’s embarrassing, I put fliers on bulletin boards.

You know… all the methods that are supposed to work. Except they didn’t.

That’s a bit from a VSL I wrote last year in the real estate investing space. It’s a typical story — I tried all the usual stuff, it was confusing and humiliating and got me nowhere… then I hit upon something new and different.

Typical. What’s not typical is the guy who was telling this story:

He is a bona fide Green Beret.

​​He served in the U.S. Army Special Forces for 10 years in Afghanistan and Iraq and various classified locations. Then he got out of the army, and worked as a firefighter for a while. Then he decided to make money. So he started investing in real estate and spun off a bunch of businesses and became a multi-millionaire.

But at the start, as he told me, he was confused and unsuccessful and ashamed.

A Green Beret! Confused and ashamed!

Is it any wonder you feel the same?

The fact is, people in almost any direct response market feel shame, whether openly or deep down. How else can they respond to having a burning problem… which they’ve failed to solve, over and over?

If you’re writing copy, there are several ways you can deal with this. The weakest is to tell people, “It’s not your fault.” Fortunately, better options exist.

One is to have a real-life action hero tell you, “It was the same for me. Here, let me take you under my wing and show you what really works.”

This does two things. First, it calms that burning sense of “must be something uniquely wrong with me.” Second, it allows the reader to tap into a new source of pride. Hey! I’m now in this inner circle with a real-life commando!

And in case you’re wondering if this really works:

This VSL increased response 3x over the control. In all fairness, a part of that impressive result was the flimsiness of the control. But a part of it was capitalizing on this guy’s action-hero status and his early struggles with real estate.

“Great,” you might say. “All I need now is a sensitive and vulnerable Green Beret. Thanks for nothing.”

Hold on. No Green Beret… no problem. Take a look at this John Carlton bullet:

* Amazing trick that instantly eliminates “performance anxiety” in men! (Used for centuries by the most daring and successful lovers in the world… see page 112.)

It’s the same damn thing as above. The only difference is… who are these daring and successful lovers?

Well, the book John was selling gives a few case studies of guys who overcame performance flop.

Are they the most daring and successful lovers in the world?

Perhaps.

Or perhaps John was burning with shame at how vanilla his bullet was… so he resorted to a bit of puffery to create mystery and intrigue.

It’s a harmless but effective trick… and if it’s good enough for a legendary and super-rich copywriter like John, well…

In case you want more shame-reducing copy tactics, particularly around the topic of real estate investing, here’s a tip.

I write a daily email newsletter. Marketing, persuasion, copywriting, that kind of thing. If you’re interested, here’s where to sign up.

Cialdini’s limited hangout

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In chapter 3 of Influence, Robert Cialdini tells the interesting story of a transcendental meditation event he went to.

Cialdini was at the event to study the recruiting methods of the TM organization. He was sitting in the audience with a friend, a professor of statistics and symbolic logic.

The TM presentation started out talking about inner peace and better sleep. But it got progressively weirder and more outlandish. Cialdini says that, by the end, the TM gurus were promising to teach you how to fly through walls.

Eventually, Cialdini’s rational and scientific friend couldn’t take it any more. He stood up, spoke to the whole room, and “gently but surely demolished the presentation.” He showed how the presentation was illogical, contradictory, and groundless.

The TM gurus on stage fell silent. They hung their heads and admitted that Cialdini’s friend raised really good points, and they would have to look deeply into this.

So whaddya think happened? If you’ve read my recent posts about Frank Abagnale and Uri Geller, you probably know exactly what happened:

Once the TM presentation ended, people in the audience rushed to the back of the room. They handed over their money to sign up for TM bootcamps and workshops.

Did they not hear Cialdini’s friend dismantle the whole TM gimmick? Or were they just too dumb to understand what he was saying?

Nope. Neither. They heard him, and they understood perfectly what he was saying. That’s why they were so eager to jump aboard the slow-moving TM train.

“Well, I wasn’t going to put down any money tonight,” said one future TM’er when pressed later by Cialdini. “I’m really quite broke right now. I was going to wait until the next meeting. But when your buddy started talking, I knew I’d better give them my money now, or I’d go home and start thinking about what he said and never sign up.”

I read this story a few days ago. And I was thinking about how you could use this quirk of human nature for intentional marketing. And then, yesterday, I ran across the term limited hangout.

Limited hangout is apparently a term used by politicians’ aides and CIA operatives. It’s when you cover up the full extent of a scandal or secret by an early reveal of some of the damaging stuff. By letting it hang out. Not all of it, of course.

An example of this was Richard Nixon and company’s attempt to cover up how high Watergate went. They were planning to do a “modified limited hangout” and release a report with a lot of damaging information. Of course not implicating the president.

It didn’t work for Nixon. Too little, too late. But apparently limited hangout has worked in lots of other cases.

The thing is, everybody who writes about limited hangout says it is an example of misdirection… or gullibility… or short attention spans.

Perhaps. But perhaps the effectiveness of the limited hangout technique is just what Cialdini writes about.

When we believe something, then information to the contrary actually drives us towards that something. I will leave it at that, and let you use this dangerous material as you see fit.

And on that note:

I’m not sure if you have a strong desire to hear from me again on similar persuasion topics. If you do, I have to tell you that I often write about borderline immoral tactics. Plus there’s no guarantee that any of them will work for you. If that doesn’t deter you, here’s how you can make sure to hear more of my ideas.