The magic “red clause” — get others to fight on your behalf

The entire direct response industry emerged out of the sea of patent medicine. And much of what people keep figuring out about persuasion today was first discovered in the late 19th century by men looking to sell more nerve tonics, seaweed cakes, and soothing lung syrups.

What I’m telling you is that it’s worth reading about these patent medicine men, so you don’t have to reinvent their strategies yourself. For instance:

Some time around the turn of the 19th century, a man named Frank J. Cheney stood up, piece of paper in hand, at a meeting of the Proprietary Association of America.

​​The Proprietary Association represented the interests of hardworking snake oil hucksters, quacksalvers, and nostrum men.

Cheney, for example, was the proprietor of Hall’s Catarrh Cure, and would eventually become the president the Association.

That day, Cheney stood up to show off a special advertising contract he had been using. It contained what was later called the “Magic Red Clause.” This helped Cheney fight government interference and win, over and over again.

It worked like this:

Like all patent medicine men, Cheney advertised heavily in local newspapers.

So he started putting a clause in his advertising contracts in big red letters. “This contract shall become VOID in case of HOSTILE LEGISLATIVE CHANGE.”

And one time, when a local legislator threatened Cheney with an unfavorable new law, Cheney simply wrote 40 newspapers, his advertising partners.

“Look at that big red clause in our contract,” Cheney wrote. “If this new law passes, I’m afraid our contract will be void and we must stop doing business together.”

Sure enough, by the next week, all 40 newspapers had published articles critical of the new law, and Mr. Legislator had to pack it up, tail between his legs.

My point is straightforward. Have the media in your back pocket and sic them on your enemies whenever you feel threatened.

And if you don’t yet have the media in your back pocket, then spend large amounts on advertising until you do.

My point might be straightforward. But perhaps you find it impractical.

Perhaps you have neither power nor money to get others to fight your battles for you.

The point still stands.

It might not be obvious how it stands. So I’ll tell you another story, equally momentous, in my email tomorrow. And I hope all things will soon be clear, like a bottle of Liquozone.