The man who kept falling out of bed

In the middle of the night, a man in a hospital bed kept falling out of bed.

Each time, the orderlies came and picked him up off the floor. They helped him get back into bed.

And then, a short while later — THUD. The man fell out again. The reason why is pretty incredible.

Today is the last day of my denial mini-series.

Over the past five days, I’ve showed you different ways that people deny unpleasant things in their lives.

I’ve been doing this A) because this denial stuff is fascinating… and B) because it’s something we all do all the time.

So my claim is that if you know how denial shows up in life, it can help you understand yourself better. And it can help you understand other people too, including the ones you want to get something from.

And now we’ve come full circle.

Because today’s final denial mechanism is projection.

I wrote about that recently. An Internet stranger sent me an email to accuse me of name-dropping in this newsletter… and in that same email, he rattled off the names of a bunch of copywriting gurus.

But that’s kind of fluffy, isn’t it?

There’s no way to prove that it’s really denial-by-projection that’s going on in such a person’s brain.

That’s why I’m telling you the story off the man who kept falling out of bed.

This story was reported in the book Phantoms in the Brain by Vilaynur Ramachandran. He’s the neuroscientist who studied people with paralyzed limbs.

Ramachandran found these paralyzed-limb patients sometimes engaged in ridiculous, obvious, impossible denials… in spite of otherwise being perfectly sane and rational people.

Like the guy who kept falling out of bed.

The doctor on the hospital ward asked him why he kept falling out of bed.

The falling man looked frightened. “Doctor,” he said, “these medical students have been putting a cadaver’s arm in my bed. I’ve been trying to get rid of it all night!”

In other words, this guy couldn’t admit the paralyzed arm belonged to him. So he assigned it to a cadaver.

And he kept pushing it away (rightly so, who wants to sleep next to a cadaver’s arm). But each time he finally got the arm out of the bed, he found himself pulled after it down to the floor.

You might say this denial borders between rationalization (my email yesterday) and projection (my email today).

Fine. Ramachandran has more straightforward projection stories.

Like the woman who claimed the paralyzed arm next to her was too big and hairy to be her own.

“Whose arm is it?” Ramachandran asked her.

The woman thought for a second. “It must be my brother’s,” she said.

So that’s all I got for you for denial and projection. Except one more quick story.

It’s by James Altucher, about an encounter he had with one of the most infamous people of this century.

James’s story features projection by that infamous person. ​And it might save you from making a huge mistake at some point in your life.

​​So if you’re curious to read the story, you can find it below.

But before you go, you look like the kind of person who wants to get more email subscribers. Am I right? Maybe I’m just projecting. Sign up for my newsletter in any case. And then here’s James’s article:

https://jamesaltucher.com/blog/im-the-worst-judge-of-character/

A defensive Internet troll sets me straight

Last night, while my Copy Riddles promo was still going on, I sent an email about a troll who chimed in to say Copy Riddles isn’t good enough for him.

He started by accusing me of name-dropping.

​​He ended by telling me to “go read some stuff from Settle, Tony Shepherd and Andre Chaperon.”

So I did. And I used what this guy wrote to illustrate Ben Settle’s idea that Internet trolls always project.

But no.

​​It turns out Ben and I are wrong about that. Or least that’s what my troll claims, in a message he sent me today:

Kind of sad when you think someone being critical of your emails is ‘a troll picking a fight’ with you. Most people would see that as an opportunity to examine, review and possibly improve. You get defensive and start making (bad) assumptions about someone you know NOTHING about.

1. I’m NOT the one dropping names, 2. I’m doing very well with my own sites and 3. I’m not interested in the new ‘shiny’ objects.

Why would you make assumptions like that?

You’ve written a book that may be the best copywriting book ever – but based on the way you’ve responded to me I doubt it.

PS: I’ve read ALL of Settle’s books. Copy Trolls is easily the worst. Read the Infotainment Book, there’s ideas in there you can use.

I’ve done enough unpaid promotion of Ben Settle’s ideas, so I won’t talk about infotainment today.

Instead, let me get back to what I really love to do. And that’s finding illustrations for deep persuasion, influence, and psychology ideas that I can share with you.

Today’s idea comes from neuroscientist V.S. Ramachandran.

At one point, Ramachandran studied people people who had suffered a stroke and were paralyzed in one arm. And yet, these people stubbornly refused to admit they were paralyzed.

This wasn’t just a brave face they were putting on in public.

They truly could not accept that their arm was hanging limp by their side, not responding to any command they gave it.

Ramachandran performed clever experiments to try to elicit whether these patients actually believed they were 100% fine.

The answer was yes. They themselves were convinced their arm was not paralyzed, in spite of the very obvious evidence otherwise.

So is this just a strange corner case in the medical literature… or something for the archives of Internet trolldom?

Ramachandran thinks it’s more than that.

He claims this is a dramatic and concrete illustration of the kind of thing we all engage in, all the time.

Denial, Ramachandran says, is a fundamental human activity. It’s how we manage to live in a complex and often nasty and brutish world, and still maintain an illusion of a coherent, in-control self.

I personally find this idea both terrifying and fascinating. Which of the things I know to be true are a flat-out denial of reality?

​​Or maybe, not even a flat-out denial, but something more complex?

Because flat-out denial (“I’m NOT the one dropping names”) was just one of the mechanisms Ramachandran came across in his paralyzed-but-no patients.

There were five other types as well. You can see a few more of these denial strategies in my troll’s response above.

​​But if you can’t spot them, don’t worry.

I’ll spell out the other five types of denial in my emails over the coming days. You can sign up here if you want to read that.

Like I said, I find this stuff personally fascinating. But it can be valuable, too.

It can help you understand other people better, whether those are your friends… family… customers… prospects… or trolls.

And of course, it can help you understand yourself better. And who knows. Maybe, one day, it can even be an opportunity to examine, review, and possibly improve.

The fascist cokehead who raised me

How foolishly inconsistent of me.

On April 7 of this year, I wrote an email promoting the idea that you should give your prospects a menu of options. I quoted from Jonah Berger’s book The Catalyst:

But give people multiple options, and suddenly things shift.

Rather than thinking about what is wrong with whatever was suggested, they think about which one is better. Rather than poking holes in whatever was raised, they think about which of the options is best for them. And because they’ve been participating, they’re much more likely to go along with one of them in the end.

Reasonable, right?

Except, only a short while earlier, on February 28, I sent out an email with the exact opposite message. The subject line for that was “The best copywriting tactic ever.” It was inspired by an article I’d read in Scientific American by neuroscientist V. S. Ramachandran. The email concluded:

The world is complicated. Too many choices. Too much information. That’s why we seek out extremes, to make our lives easier. And that’s something you can use to make your copy not better, but best.

So one email is basically telling you to give your prospects a choice… the other email is telling you to give them no choice.

How to reconcile these two ideas?

I don’t know. Maybe you can do it. I haven’t tried. And I won’t, because I’ve got better things to do. Like preparing for the second call of my Influential Emails training.

The first call was all about writing and persuasion techniques that I use regularly — and that anybody else can use and profit from as well.

But this second call is more personal. It will include some of my own writing and thinking quirks.

Such as for example, the contradiction in my two emails above. The reason I’m ok with this contradiction is because of a third email I wrote.

That third email was about David Bowie and an infuriatingly inconsistent interview he gave to Playboy magazine in 1976. (1976 was the height of Bowie’s cokehead era. A big brouhaha emerged after the interview because Bowie said during it, “I believe very strongly in fascism.”)

This Bowie email is the most influential thing I’ve ever written.

Not because it got me any sales… or any interest from important people in the industry… or even any engagement from readers on my list. In fact, as far as I remember, nobody even commented on this email.

But the ideas in that email had the biggest influence on how I personally write. And not just emails, but influential writing more broadly.

You might think I’m just advocating being provocative in your thinking and writing. It goes deeper than that, at least in my mind.

In any case, if you want to read that short email about David Bowie, so you can see if it will have any influence on you, here’s the link:

https://bejakovic.com/being-authentic-is-overrated/

The best copywriting tactic ever

Why does a giraffe have the longest neck?

The canned answer is because it’s useful. It allows the giraffe to browse books on the top bookshelf.

The real answer is that giraffes love extremes. That’s according to V. S. Ramachandran, a neuroscientist and psychologist at UCSD.

Ramachandran says giraffes, and all other animals, have to know who’s a sexual target and who’s not. Otherwise, they might waste their prime dating years humping couches or human legs or other animals species. (Clearly, something went wrong with dogs.)

So how does a giraffe find love?

The simplest and easiest way it can. It looks for shortcuts.

“Long neck? Gotta be another giraffe! Time to get the cologne.”

But here’s where it gets tricky and interesting:

If a long neck is a mental shortcut for a giraffe to pick out another giraffe… then a longer neck is an even shorter cut.

The conclusion is giraffes’ necks get longer and longer. The longer your neck, the more likely you are to get some giraffe action and pass on your long neck genes. In the end, the longest neck wins.

As I said, giraffes love extremes. Almost as much as humans love extremes.

Because the human brain is like a giraffe’s. We also like shortcuts. And we want to follow these shortcuts to the end. Which leads me to the best copywriting tactic ever:

Go to extremes, whenever you can get away with it.

The most successful direct response copy is filled with the most dramatic stories… the scariest warnings… and with superlatives like fastest, easiest, and best.

The world is complicated. Too many choices. Too much information. That’s why we seek out extremes, to make our lives easier. And that’s something you can use to make your copy not better, but best.

Speaking of which, here’s the safest offer you will ever hear:

Try out my email newsletter. If it doesn’t make the highlight of your day tomorrow, simply unsubscribe.