For normal people, writing and speaking are a means of expressing their point of view.
For you and me – on planet copywriting – we have an entirely different objective.
We write to create an effect in people that compels them to want to purchase a product or service when we ask them to do so.
Sometimes we create the intended effect. Sometimes we create no effect whatsoever. And sometimes we create the opposite effect to which we intend.
Just the other day my wife came to me all jazzed up about Red Fife – the wheat. (I know, you thought this was going to be a story of lust, jealousy, and betrayal – shame on you.)
Some clever marketing had convinced my wife to make an investment in a magical loaf of bread. The source of its magic: said wheat. It was done through the power of story. Naturally I was intrigued.
As I was munching a piece of the bread, baked with Red Fife, she reads me the copy on the side of the bag. I quote:
“Red Fife wheat was named after David Fife who first planted the red colored seeds around 1842 on his farm near Peterborough, Ontario. Legend says that a friend of Fife’s collected 5 seeds in Scotland that he sent to Canada. Fife planted the seeds. The wheat flourished and set the wheat standard for over forty years.
“Many consider it to be the ancestor to virtually all Canadian wheat grown today.
“In 1882 George Weston started baking high quality bread. Because he only accepted the best ingredients, he would have used the award winning Red Fife flour. A family tradition of quality was started.
“For over 125 years Westons’ has continued the tradition of providing the best bread to Canadians. We have supported the conversation and protection of heritage seed, focusing on grains which can adapt to diverse growing conditions on Family farms across Canada. This biodiversity is the basis for a strong national food system.
“We are proud to be using Red Fife again. The best of the past, brought to you today. Enjoy.”
Now, the story is intended to evoke down-home, mom-and-apple pie images, and install favorable branding for George Weston as a responsible, green, caring custodian of Canada’s food supply. In a word – trust – was the feeling the copywriter was aiming for.
But this is not the effect this copy had on me at all.
As my wife was reading it, two questions popped into my mind that had just the opposite effect.
Did these same two questions pop into your mind? If so, stop reading, and write them down on a piece of paper, right now. I’ll explain why in a minute.
Done? OK, continue …
The first question is the result of the two seemingly innocent little words “would have” in the second paragraph.
“In 1882 George Weston started baking high quality bread. Because he only accepted the best ingredients, he would have used the award winning Red Fife flour.”
Well did he or didn’t he?
Of course, he must have. Maybe, I mean, he probably did. He was a really quality kind of guy, you know. He probably used Red Fife.
And I’m thinking: How many other things does this company brag about that may or not have happened?
The second gaff is even worse. Do you see it in the fourth paragraph? This time the offending word is “again.”
“We are proud to be using Red Fife again. The best of the past, brought to you today. Enjoy.”
Now, in fairness, I may have missed some nuance in the writing while listening casually to my wife reading me this copy, but I got the impression that Red Fife is the finest. And so my gut reaction was: So what has George Weston been selling us all along? Chopped Liver?
This is kind of like spouting the suicidal phrase, “I’m going to be honest with you.” Excellent, thanks for letting me know you’ve been lying to me all along. I forgive you for your honesty.
The bread – in case you’re interested – was nothing special. And the copy just served to support my previous prejudice that George Weston is just another big, dumb company that barely meets my minimum standards as a consumer.
The point I find interesting about all this is that it was just three careless little words that ended the life of Red Fife in the Levis household. These three little words caused me to see the exact opposite of what the copywriter intended.
Execution aside, dramatizing your claims through story is a very powerful strategy. Stories are great for getting attention and readership. Just as importantly, they allow us to communicate ideas that would be suicidal to try and communicate in any other way.
Bread, Fishman, and the Conversion of the Multitudes …
I remember talking to my friend, Michael Fishman, about market research and focus groups and surveys and that sort of thing. And how what people tell you about what they want and why they buy is rarely the whole story.
And he said something that I found really profound.
He said, “There are things that people will tell you. There are things people won’t tell you. And there are things people can’t tell you.”
Ask a person what they’re looking for, or why they bought, and they will tell you things they think you want to hear. Things that make them look good. And that fit neatly onto a laundry list of product features.
I want a better warranty … better gas mileage … more leg room … more power … better handling … whatever the case may be.
If you drill down you can attach benefits to these features, I want a better warranty so I can get better resale value … better gas mileage to save money … more leg room so I can be more comfortable … and down you drill.
But these are not reasons people buy. They are reasons people use to justify a purchase, AFTER they have already decided to buy.
Personally, I drive a 6,000 pound SUV. I tell people I bought it because it has a very effective all-wheel drive system that gets me around when there’s 3-feet of snow on the road, which actually does happen where I live.
What I don’t tell them is that I really get a kick out of the – I’m-drivin’-in-my-truck-and-I-don’t-give-a-f@#k – feeling I get every time I slip behind the wheel.
At some level, deeper still, buried in my lizard brain – beneath millions of years of evolution, if you believe in that sort of thing – lurks an even more primal imperative that I can’t even begin to explain.
The first level is easily communicated in a very direct, matter-of-fact sort of way. “You need to get around when the going gets tough, Mr. Customer? I’ve got just the thing. Here, take a look at all of the reasons you’ll never get stuck in this particular SUV.”
But the second and third levels can only be activated through some kind of a story that “shows” rather than “tells.”
A young family is driving along a desert road.
A large gang of menacing-looking bikers overtakes their car and surrounds them.
The wife urges the husband to pull over.
“Relax honey – that’s the last thing we should do! I know exactly how to handle this.”
He pulls into a restaurant parking lot where you see 15 jet-black Ford trucks lined up like motorcycles at a biker bar.
The bikers pause before following them in. Eventually one of them says “I’m not going in there,” and another says “the salad bar is better up the road!”
The subtext of the little story is that Ford trucks make you tough – a force to be reckoned with.
That idea is patently ridiculous. Few would admit to such an absurd motivation for buying one. But I’d bet dollars to donuts that appeal goes straight to the lizard brain in man and sells an awful lot of trucks.
At a still deeper level, survival and even pro-creation come into play. A Ford truck signals you as a provider and a protector – prime mating material! Like a gallant knight in shining armor, atop a magnificent charger… just the sight of you is enough to send the bad guys running home to Mama. This rides even lower down in the subtext, far below conscious awareness.
By showing rather than telling, you can trigger these powerful secret desires and primal urges. Once triggered, you can tell your prospect about all of the logical, common sense reasons he needs to justify his decision to act.
It is of course, a riskier proposition than talking straight features and benefits. You’re more likely to end up with a flop or chart-busting, gushing geyser of response than an also-ran. But that’s part of the thrill of it. Test small. Roll out big. And you’ll be OK. I promise.
The key thing in all this: If you can let your prospect figure out what you want him to think and to feel without coming out and telling him how to think and to feel, your copy will be much more persuasive.
Of course, it’s not always easy anticipating the effect of your words, much less their aggregate effect on the multitudes – as our hapless Canadian flogger of bread so aptly demonstrates.
Can We Take a Poll?
How many of you felt the same breaches of trust when you read the George Weston Red Fife story above?
Was it just me, or did you feel them too, at a gut level – before I pointed them out?
Take a look at your notes, and grace us with your commentary.
Until next time, Good Selling!
The “again” was particularly egregious. The “would have” didn’t catch my eye as much, but it’s definitely not good copy.
I caught the “:would have” (What, you have no proof? You don’t even know?)
My questions are, “When did Weston stop using Red Fife wheat? Why did it stop? Why bring it back now?
For the record, I’m allergic to wheat and don’t touch it. 100% Dimpflmeir rye for me.
Ha, Dimpflmeir, awesome stuff.
You’re right!
Its like “will,” “can,” and “may.” When those words appear in my, or another’s writings, I’m on the rip-off alert mode. In my copy only the “will” stays.
Can” and “may” are relegated to the “can’t” and “didn’t” section where the guaranty comes into play – should the “will” part not work.
I’m with you on those deceitful statements, and look for them – to teach me to be a “will” writer… if I’ve got the proof to say so. Great observation!
george …. auto-tune-up-and-repair-options.com
The second last paragraph made my BS detector go off: “The Westons’ have …”. What’s with the apostrophe? The copywriter needs to learn about punctuation because these errors are distracting and undermine the product’s credibility. Is this a quality product or not? Quality word usage is one of the markers of a quality product.
Yup, I caught those. Ouch.
Uh-huh. Both errors were pretty egregious. Even if people don’t catch them consciously, they “know” something’s off.
On the other hand, good copywriting and copywriters with a solid history breed an immense amount of trust. e.g. I checked into Dimpflmeir bread because you replied: “Ha, Dimpflmeir, awesome stuff.”
Looks like it’s not available in the states though, bummer…