Claude Hopkins

Contradicting and fulfilling the most effective thing ever found in advertising

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This morning, I woke up to find a bunch of different emails in my inbox from a bunch of different marketers, all on the same topic.

All these people are promoting a run of webinars, which will happen tomorrow, staggered two hours apart, to be given by Rich Schefren.

You might know Rich as “the guru to the gurus” — the guy who coached big-name Internet marketers like Russell Brunson, Ryan Deiss, and Todd Brown.

So now Rich is promoting something, and he has enlisted a bunch of other people to promote him. Which is proof of something written by the “godfather of modern advertising,” Claude Hopkins, some 100 years ago:

“The most effective thing I have ever found in advertising is the trend of the crowd. That is a factor not to be overlooked. People follow styles and preferences. We rarely decide for ourselves, because we don’t know the facts. But when we see the crowds taking any certain direction, we are much inclined to go with them.”

So that’s the harmonious part one. Here’s the clashing part two.

I don’t know what the content of Rich’s webinars tomorrow will be. But I have an idea.

Because speaking a few years back about what really made his messaging and marketing powerful — what made his 40-page reports like the Internet Business Manifesto go viral and bring in millions of dollars of new business — Rich had this to say:

“I really experimented with a lot of different approaches over the years. I’ve come to the conclusion that the best core concept is a paradigm shift on their problem and your solution to their problem.”

Now let’s put our two pieces of music side by side:

Part one is Hopkins saying, 100 years ago, that the “the trend of the crowd” is the most effective thing he has found.

Part two is Rich saying, today, that a “paradigm shift” is the most effective thing he has found.

Those two claims might sound contradictory, and rightly so. After all, if your prospect forms his beliefs based on what others think and do… and if you are giving your prospect a paradigm shift… then you are by definition going against the trend of the crowd.

So maybe it really is a contradiction. Or maybe not.

Maybe, paradigm shifts — insight techniques as I call them — are not here to abolish the old laws of advertising, but to fulfill them. After all, that’s what Rich’s own marketing seems to show.

The fact is, like promises, like social proof, like urgency, creating a “paradigm shift” in your prospect’s mind has been around as long as prospects have been around, or maybe as long as minds have been around.

Giving people a new perspective has always been a powerful way to influence people and move them to action.

​​It’s just that until now, it hasn’t been mandatory. But that’s changing, thanks in part to smart marketers like Rich, who are consciously creating paradigm shifts and aiming to create feeling of insight in their prospects’ minds.

Now here’s a promise for you:

Insight techniques is something I have been thinking and even writing about for a long time. If you’d like to know how you too can consciously create paradigm shifts in your prospect’s mind, then as a first step, join a lot of other smart marketers and entrepreneurs, and sign up to my email newsletter.

Promiscious upgrading is a very bad plan indeed

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A Copy Riddles member named Paul writes in:

Hello John,

I purchased Copy Riddles some months ago.

Will you give me (and all previous buyers) access to the member’s area now that the program is delivered on a website?

The answer is yes and no.

I definitely gave Paul access to the members-only area of my site where Copy Riddles is now hosted.

Hence the yes part in the “yes and no” above.

But I won’t do the same for all previous buyers — not unless they write me and ask. ​​Hence the no.

The reason I am not giving access automatically to all previous buyers is that I have to do it manually, and that takes some time and effort. And why go to that expense for someone who might not appreciate it? ​​In the words of the godfather of modern advertising, Claude Hopkins:

I consider promiscuous sampling a very bad plan indeed. Products handed out without asking or thrown on the doorstep lose respect. It is different when you force people to make an effort.

As it was for bars of soap a hundred years ago, so it is for the new Copy Riddles today.

If you have gone through Copy Riddles previously, in its old, email-based form, and you’d like me to upgrade you to the new, web-based form, just write me and ask. I will do it, as Joe Sugarman used to say, promptly and courteously.

And if you haven’t yet gone through Copy Riddles yet in any form, here’s what Paul (same Paul as above) had to say after I upgraded him to the new Copy Riddles:

What you offer in the “Copy Riddles Course” is a very clever and powerful way to improve our copywriting skills. It’s based on the work of the greatest copywriters. But it’s the kind of practical value you wouldn’t generally find in the books they wrote. In fact, I think there are very few copywriting courses that offer this level of practical value. Best of all, yours is very affordable. Thanks again John. Oh, and by the way, my mother tongue is French and I find that everything you present is clear and well explained, even though I am not a native English speaker.

In case you’d like to join Copy Riddles before the price goes up:

https://bejakovic.com/cr

Play and game are not the same

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Today is October 25, the 58th anniversary of the biggest mistake in NFL history.

Now, I really don’t care about American football, or any other nation’s football, but this mistake was pretty spectacular. Let me tell you about it quickly:

The date, like I said, was October 25.

The year was 1964.

The place was San Francisco.

The teams were San Francisco 49ers and the Minnesota Vikings.

During a play, the 49ers quarterback fumbled the ball.

If you don’t know anything about American football — it’s much like any other football. Each team is trying to advance the ball towards one, and only one, end of the field. A fumble is when one team drops the ball midfield — a bad thing.

But what happened next was much worse.

Jim Marshall, a Vikings player, picked up the fumbled ball, and started running down the field.

The problem was, Marshall was running the wrong way.

He triumphantly ran all the way to the end zone, unopposed by anybody, thinking he had just scored a touchdown for his team. But in fact, he had scored a couple points for the other guys.

A 49ers player was the first to run up to Marshall and say, “Thanks Jim.” Marshall stood there frozen as his teammates stared at him in disbelief, as the opposing team’s players laughed, and as tens of thousands of 49ers fans erupted in cheers around the stadium.

I watched an interview with Marshall about the incident. It was recorded decades later.

Marshall still seemed sheepish. The memory clearly still brought him pain.

But in time, he turned his mistake into something positive. He kept playing the game, and playing well. He said fans and other players have given him a lot of respect for continuing to do his best even after such a colossal mistake.

But hold on.
​​
Colossal mistake? That still stings decades later? Football is just a game, isn’t it?

Here’s why I’m telling you about all this. One idea that’s been rattling around my skull for several years is a quote by Claude Hopkins:

“All the difference lies in a different idea of fun. The love of work can be cultivated just like the love of play.”

The “difference” Hopkins was talking about is the difference between success and failure, riches and poverty. And maybe something more. Maybe the difference between feeling good about how you spend a large part of your life, and feeling miserable.

But even though I’ve done a lot of trying, I have not yet been able to cultivate the idea that work is fun.

​​Sure, there are moments when I enjoy what I do. And sometimes I even find it hard to tear myself away from what it is I’m working on. But never, not once, in the 7+ years of working as a copywriter and marketer, have I woken up in the morning and jumped out of bed because I was so eager to open up my laptop and start working.

Maybe like Hopkins says, this can be cultivated. It certainly seems worthwhile.

And that’s why I’ve been thinking and collecting ideas about what work really is, and what play is, and how the two are different.

​​That’s why I was interested in the Jim Marshall story above. It shines a bit of a light on how consequential and work-like mere games can become, and how perhaps a game is something different from the play that Hopkins was talking about.

I’m not sure if this is of any use to you. It probably isn’t, not unless you’re like me, and you have to force yourself to work each day.

if that’s how you are, well—

You might get some more ideas about how to make your work more play-like, and how to get to riches and success, in other emails and essays that I write. In case you would like to read those as they come out, sign up to my daily email newsletter.

How I plan to 10x my results by cutting down on clever copywriting techniques

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I’m traveling for a few days, and while sipping my exotic travel coffee this morning, I thought:

“This damn daily email… how could I get it done a little more quickly today, while at the same time making it worthwhile for my readers to actually read?”

I waited for inspiration.

And I waited.

“Surely” I said to myself, “my subconscious, that powerful torpedo guidance system that Maxwell Maltz told me about, won’t leave me in the lurch. It will come up with something. Won’t it?”

My subconscious shrugged its shoulders. It was enjoying the morning coffee and the cool breeze too much to do any thinking.

Sure enough, I was left on my own.

So I did what I always do in situations like this.

I went back to a big ole file where I’ve collected the most valuable and interesting stories from the classic marketing books I’ve read over the years.

Such as, for example, the following short story from Claude Hopkins’s My Life In Advertising.

Hopkins is often called the “godfather of modern advertising.” And with reason. He helped build up Palmolive and Quaker Oats and Goodyear into giant brands that still survive and dominated today, a century later.

Anyways, my second favorite Claude Hopkins lesson is the following story, about the relative ineffectiveness of clever copywriting and sales techniques. Hopkins wrote:

“Mother made a silver polish. I molded it into cake form and wrapped it in pretty paper. Then I went from house to house to sell it. I found that I sold about one woman in ten by merely talking the polish at the door. But when I could get into the pantry and demonstrate the polish I sold to nearly all.”

I suspect there is some value in that story, if only you meditate on it a little. At least that’s what I’m doing. After all, Hopkins’s implied promise — 10x your results by focusing less on your clever sales pitch — is too big not to at least take a little seriously.

Like I said, that’s my second favorite Claude Hopkins lesson. My favorite Claude Hopkins lesson…

Well, it’s one I like the sound of a lot. But even though I learned it years ago, I still struggle to apply it.

If you want to read all about it, including how to maybe make it a little easier to apply, you can find it in Commandment VI of my 10 Commandments of A-list Copywriters. If you still haven’t got that little book yet:

https://bejakovic.com/10commandments

A chance meeting of star-crossed lovers, in the business district, next to a fancy hotel

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I was walking this morning through a business district, next to a fancy hotel. I saw a very beautiful blonde girl walking quickly across my path.

She was wearing a white top, which was too short for her, and a white skirt, which was also too short. She slowed down for a moment to adjust her skirt and pull it down into place. I guess she was excited about something coming up, because her eyes lit up with a smile and she picked up her quick pace again.

Suddenly, she spotted me staring at her.

​​Her face got stern, she focused her eyes on the ground in front of her, and she adjusted her skirt again.

She walked on out of my peripheral vision, and I resisted the urge to turn around and look after her.

​​I could hear her pressing a buzzer — I guess the staff entrance to the hotel. In a moment more, the door opened, and she slipped inside. She was gone, and we were both safe — her, from my calf-like staring, and me, from the daunting prospect of having to go and talk to her.

But wait, there’s more.

I mean, not with this girl, even though, who knows, maybe she was THE ONE.

But staring at girls is not all I did this morning. I also read an article about writing. It was written by a certain Jay Acunzo and was titled “Nothing Is Boring: How to Tell Gripping Stories About the Seemingly Mundane.”

Acunzo’s article gives you a simple three-part structure for writing engaging stories from mundane life events.

I will not tell you what the three-part structure is. That’s because I’ve already spent enough time in the past month talking about story templates, and because the conclusion of all that work was, story templates are best forgotten.

But I will share just one bit from Acunzo’s article, which is really all you need to know:

“All it takes to tell a meaningful story from the mundane details around us is some tension, however fleeting, however subtle. These tiny differences make all the difference in the world.”

So did the tension in my little story above grip you?

​​Well, maybe grip is too strong a word.

But maybe you did feel a certain contraction and then relaxation as you were reading.

​​Maybe you felt enough tension to turn this short story from just a random collection of personal facts into something that was sufficiently stimulating, that you enjoyed having communicated to you. And really, that’s the main point. As the original A-list copywriter, Claude H., put it,

“People will not be bored in print. They may listen politely at a dinner table to boasts and personalities, life histories, etc. But in print they choose their own companions, their own subjects. They want to be amused or benefited.”

In case you’d like to be regularly benefited, and occasionally amused, you might like my email newsletter. You can sign up for it here.

Dude… you gotta read this email

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This morning I was idling on the Internet when I saw a clip of an MMA fight between all-time great Fedor Emelianenko and all-time loudmouth Chael Sonnen.

In the clip, Sonnen managed to get Emelianenko on the ground. Sonnen then did some fancy/silly move to get himself in trouble, with Emelianenko on top, raining punches down on Sonnen’s head.

But what really had me transfixed was looking at the ad on Sonnen’s shorts. It read:

DUDE WIPES

Dude wipes? It turns out to be a real thing. Disposable wet wipes for men, in masculine black packaging.

My first impression was that calling your intimate hygiene product “wipes” is already emasculating, and defeats all the manly branding.

But apparently I’m wrong. DUDE Wipes is a successful business. As proof:

They have many offers on their site beyond just wipes (DUDE bidet)…

They have endorsement deals with pro sports figures (pro golfer: “On the golf course and off it, I’m taking it to the hole with DUDE Wipes”)…

And on Amazon, various bundles of DUDE wipes have tens of thousands of reviews, almost all five-star, though with some caveats (“The wife is always reluctant to have them in the guest bath when we have company because of the, as she puts it, sophomoric name and black package”).

This brought to mind my long-simmering idea to create a business by taking a consumable product and applying it to an affinity or identity group.

The usual order in much of direct response is to take a niche and then figure out, what could we sell to them? What could we create and sell at a high-enough markup and with repeating revenue for long enough to make it worthwhile?

This system clearly works.

But the other way works also, and maybe even better. As Claude Hopkins put it, “It is a well-known fact that the greatest profits are made on great volume and small profit.”

So the idea is to take a consumable product which is a known seller to a mass audience, and brand it for a specific affinity or identity group.

I’ve already seen this done with coffee for Reformed Christians. That brand was called Reformed Roasters, and within two months of being launched, it was making $40k/month.

So why not a line of fine cheeses for militant atheists?

Or air fresheners for QAnon nuts?

Or dog food for dogs of heavy metal heads?

Maybe you say any of these ideas is arbitrary, and much more likely to fail than to work.

I’m sure you’re right. To make this work, you will need good marketing to get your Sunni Soda off the ground.

But if you have capital to invest, I happen to know a good marketer. And if you’re looking for a partner to help you create the next Pepsodent or Palmolive soap — for dudes — then sign up for my email list and then we can talk.

/

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Today I’d like to tell you the story of a boy who became known as Thee-Thee.

When Thee-Thee was just ten years old, his father died. The family wasn’t rich before, but now they were poor. Thee-Thee had to go to work — every day, before and after school, weekends too — to help support himself and the rest of his family.

Thee-Thee kept working. And he kept studying. He finished high school and even some college.

But his first job out of college paid so poorly that Thee-Thee couldn’t afford a meal every night. His budget could just support the room he was renting, occasional laundry service for his two shirts, and dinners only five nights a week. The other two nights he had to go to bed hungry.

But Thee-Thee didn’t stop, and he didn’t quit. He kept working hard and being honest. He made his employers more and more money. And as a result, he himself progressed, further and further.

Thee-Thee started getting paid higher wages. Then he got commissions on the money he was earning his employers. Then he was given shares of businesses he helped grow.

In time, Thee-Thee became rich. He bought an ocean-going yacht. He lived in a palatial house surrounded by flower gardens admired across the state. He died a multimillionaire, back when that was the equivalent of what today is a billionaire.

You might recognize who I’m talking about. It’s a famous marketer and copywriter. Perhaps the most famous and influential of them all:

Claude C. Hopkins.

(Thee-Thee? Hopkins had a lisp. When he introduced himself — C.C. — it came out as Thee-Thee. This became his nickname around the Lord & Thomas offices — behind his back of course.)

I’m telling you the story of Thee-Thee Hopkins for two reasons:

First, because it shows what you can earn — “at a typewriter which you operate yourself, without a clerk or secretary, and much of it earned in the woods” — if you get really dedicated to this marketing and copywriting thing.

The second reason is that Hopkins’s life is a perfect illustration of a rags-to-riches story.

Back in 1995, scientists from the University of Vermont looked at 1,700 popular stories, spanning all eras. The scientists used some fancy computering to analyze all these stories.

The upshot was they found these 1,700 stories all boiled down to just six fundamental structures.

The first of these can be concisely represented by the character /. It is the rags-to-riches story, which I just told you about.

If you’re curious about the other five fundamental story structures, you can go look them up for yourself. Or you can just sign up to my email newsletter.

Because over the coming five days, I will illustrate each of these five other canonical story types in an email. And will tell you some extra storytelling tricks and ideas that can help you also.

So if, like me, you get off on the hidden structure behind everyday things, my next few emails might be interesting for you. And who knows, they might even be profitable for you. As Thee-Thee Hopkins almost said once:

“Our success depends on pleasing people. By an inexpensive test we can learn if we please them or not. And if some guys from the University of Vermont have already done that testing for us, all the better. We can guide our endeavors accordingly.”

In case you want to read those emails when I send them out, here’s how to get a spot on my newsletter.

Skunk email with a great and valuable reward

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This email won’t be easy or pleasant to get through.

​​In fact it will take work and it might make you feel queasy along the way. But if you can manage it to the end, the rewards will be great.

Let me start by telling you I’m re-reading Claude Hopkins’s My Life in Advertising. And one story I missed before is this bit from Hopkins’s childhood:

One of the products which father advertised was Vinegar Bitters. I afterward learned its history.

A vinegar-maker spoiled a batch through some queer fermentation. Thus he produced a product weird in its offensiveness.

The people of those days believed that medicine must be horrible to be effective.

We had oils and ointments “for man or beast” which would make either wild. We used “snake oil” and “skunk oil,” presumably because of their names.

Unless the cure was worse than the disease, no one would respect it.

Today we assume that every offer must be fast, easy, and cheap.

But human nature changes like glass flows — so slowly that we will never see it happen.

And a part of the human brain still believes, like it did in Hopkins’s day, that the cure must be worse than the disease. At least along some dimension.

So if your offer is fast and easy, make sure it’s not cheap.

Or if your offer really is all of fast, easy, and cheap… then at least throw a skunk or a snake into it somewhere.

In other words, turn your prospect into a hero. Tell him a story:

He’s somebody who’s willing to do what’s offensive to others… somebody who can swallow what would turn most men or beasts wild. ​​No, it won’t be easy or pleasant. But if he can manage it to the end, the rewards will be great.

Last thing:

Maybe you’d like to know I have an email newsletter. It’s cheap and easy, but it’s very slow. You can sign up for it here.

INSIGHT

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“Will you accept this opportunity to learn at my expense absolutely, how to be rid forever of all forms of stomach trouble — to be rid not only of the trouble, but of the very cause which produced it? Write today.”

Or rather, read today. Read the rest of this post. And then maybe do what I say at the end, which will take you at my expense absolutely to the ad which I quoted above.

The headline for the ad was INDIGESTION. The offer was a patent medicine called Dr. Shoop’s Restorative.

The copywriter may or may not have been Claude Hopkins, author of Scientific Advertising. He cut his teeth writing for Dr. Shoop’s. Right around the time this ad came out.

Or maybe the copywriter was John E. Kennedy, author of Reason Why Advertising, and inventor of the concept of “Salesmanship in print.” Kennedy also wrote copy for Dr Shoop’s.

Whatever the case is, this ad shows you the future.

Yes, it was written more than 100 years ago, and it ran all over the country starting in 1905.

But trust me, it shows the future.

I’m writing a book right now on insight marketing. This is a new concept that only a few smart marketers, like Stefan Georgi… and Travis Sago… and Rich Schefren are using consciously right now.

​​But if you look at this ancient patent medicine ad… it’s like an insight fossil. It shows you the moment where the insight fish crawled out of the sea of promises and onto dry land — and even grew some legs to start walking.

I resisted sharing this ad with anybody for a long time. But I guess the time has come.

​​So if you can read between the lines, and you want to see the future of direct response advertising, then sign up to my email newsletter. That’s my condition for sharing this ad with anybody. And once you’re signed up, reply to my welcome email and ask for the insight fossil ad. I’ll send you the link.

Real #1 proof for 2021 and beyond

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“We write you because, with all you have heard and read ABOUT O. Henry’s stories, you have never yet SEEN them. You have never yet had the privilege we now offer you of ACTUALLY handling volumes — reading in your home some of these wonderful tales — proving to your own satisfaction the marvelous insight of the man, the depth of his understanding and sympathy.”

— Robert Collier, from a 1919 direct mail campaign that sold $1 million worth of O. Henry books

Demonstration is supposed to be the strongest form of proof. And I believe it, because Gary Bencivenga and Claude Hopkins say so.

That’s why demonstration is what I resort to most often in these emails. I don’t just tell you ABOUT a cool persuasion technique. I allow you to ACTUALLY SEE it.

But what if?

What if demonstration is not really tops?

Remember when Beats headphones came out? Headphone snobs were quick to point out that Beats headphones were mediocre in terms of sound quality. Even non-snobs could probably tell Beats headphones were nothing special. And yet Beats soon became one of the biggest headphone brands in the world, and sold for $3.2 billion to Apple a few years later.

Or remember the story of Coke vs. Pepsi? How Pepsi was winning the blind taste tests? And how Coke decided to change their formula… which led to a popular backlash… and a return from the ashes of “the real thing” — Coke — and not Pepsi, which tasted better?

Who knows. Maybe things were different in the time of Robert Collier. Maybe people really trusted their own opinions and experiences. And maybe getting people to try was the best way to to get them to buy. Maybe.

Whatever the case was back then, it’s not how it is today. Today it’s too hard to choose, and we no longer trust our own opinions all that deeply.

You probably see what I’m getting at. And you probably see what I believe is the real #1 type of proof, in 2021 and beyond.

Which brings me to a book I’d like to recommend on that topic. Two people I respect — one a successful marketer and business owner, and the other a copywriter at Agora — recently recommended it to me.

That’s why, even though I haven’t read this book yet, and maybe never will, I’m sure I’d like it. And that’s why I’d like to recommend it to you as well, and why I’m sure you’ll like it too. So here’s the deal:

If you’d like to know the title of this book, sign up to my email newsletter. (A bunch of direct response legends and young stars already do subscribe to it.) And then send me an email to introduce yourself. I’ll write back to you, and tell you the title of this valuable and wonderful book.