057 The Doomsday Cult School of Specificity
Imagine it’s late afternoon, Sunday. You are curled beneath an afghan, still bloated from the fried fish you inhaled for lunch. You are sleeping heavily. Until your doorbell erupts.
A young woman in a peasant top and floral pencil skirt is standing at your doorstep.
She looks over her shoulder. A tall man wearing a black button up oxford and a white tie nods from the sidewalk. He’s leaning on an umbrella.
She then looks you square in the eye and says, “Are you ready for the end of the world?”
You shake your head, clear your throat, lean forward.
“Eh, pardon me?” you say.
She doesn’t flinch. “Are you ready for the end of the world? It’s coming.”
“When?” you say. The million dollar question.
And her response to you will determine whether you pay attention or not — even if you’re the thickest-skinned cynic in town.
In this 6-minute episode you’ll discover:
- The lesson you can learn from successful doomsday cult messages
- How criminal investigators use details to tell if you are lying
- How much the brain of a baby elephant should weigh
- The power specificity can have on headlines
The Show Notes
The Doomsday Cult School of Specificity
Voiceover: This is Rainmaker.FM, the digital marketing podcast network. It’s built on the Rainmaker Platform, which empowers you to build your own digital marketing and sales platform. Start your free 14-day trial at RainmakerPlatform.com.
Demian Farnworth: Howdy dear podcast listener, this is Rough Draft, your daily dose of essential web writing advice. I am Demian Farnworth, your host, your muse, your digital recluse, and the Chief Content Writer for Copyblogger Media.
And thank you for sharing the next few minutes of your life with me.
The Lesson You Can Learn from Successful Doomsday Cult Messages
So imagine it’s late afternoon, Sunday. You are curled beneath an afghan, still bloated from the fried fish you inhaled for lunch. You are sleeping heavily. Until your doorbell erupts.
You shuffle, half asleep, to the front door and open it. You tense up.
An autumn thunderstorm blew through while you slept, bringing frigid air with it. Then you notice the young woman in a peasant top and floral pencil skirt standing at your doorstep. She’s drenched to the bone.
“My goodness,” you yell, “are you okay?”
“Hi,” she says, “I’m fine.” She extends her hand. You take it. It is a firm grip. “I’m Madeline,” she says.
“Pleasure to meet you, Madeline,” you say.
She pulls her hand away, looks over her shoulder. A tall man wearing a black button up oxford and a white tie nods from the sidewalk. He’s leaning on an umbrella.
She then looks you square in the eye and says, “Are you ready for the end of the world?”
You shake your head, clear your throat, lean forward.
“Eh, pardon me?” you say.
She doesn’t flinch. “Are you ready for the end of the world? It is coming.”
“Okay. Really?” you say.
“Yes,” she says.
“Uh,” you say, “When?”
She shrugs. “Soon.”
She then launches into how you should prepare — something about moving to Montana, underground bunkers, special marriages — she keeps going on non-stop … even as you shut the door.
Not very convincing, was she? Well, let’s say in another version of this story in response to your question she says, “The world is ending in the next five years.”
In this version, you chuckle, belch a wee bit of chardonnay.
“Yeah,” you say, “the way the economy is going, that doesn’t surprise me,” still closing the door on her face. Five years is still ambiguous. It’s not clear. It’s not specific. It does nothing to dispel doubt.
But it’s this next version of this story that gets your attention. That evaporates in an instant any remaining fog in your head.
This time she says, “The world will end three months from now. On October 29, 2015. Seven-o-five in the evening. In Munster, Indiana.”
Whoa. Now that is specific. Munster, Indiana, really?
Now, whether you believe her or not, she’s at least got your attention. At the minimum you’ll ask her how she came to that conclusion. See, it’s not so easy to dismiss someone when they are precise with details. It sounds like they probably know what they are talking about.
In what’s known as the strategic use of evidence, lawyers and criminal investigators can often discover if a suspect is lying.
Here’s how it works.
How Criminal Investigators Use Details to Tell If You Are Lying
During interrogation the investigator asks the suspect a general question. If the suspect replies with a fuzzy answer that contradicts what the investigators already know to be true, then the suspect is probably lying.
However, if the suspect shares details that match what the investigator already knows, then the suspect is probably telling the truth. The specificity of his answer builds credibility with the investigator.
So the moral of this episode is to be ultra-specific in your headlines, your testimonials, your stories, your offers. Add facts, research, quotes, and numbers.
How Much the Brain of a Baby Elephant Should Weigh
Don’t just tell me an African elephant weighs a lot.
Tell me it weighs 5,291 to 7,716 pounds. Its trunk alone weighs 330 to 440 pounds. And its brain? Eleven pounds. More than a sweet newborn human baby.
The Power Specificity Can have On Headlines
Those figures attract attention and activate a reader’s imagination. Specific details are captivating and help you build believability.
For example, which one of these headlines works best?
- How to Get a Torrent of Subscribers to Your Business Blog in One Day
- How to Get Over 6,000 Subscribers to Your Business Blog in One Day
- How to Get 6,312 Subscribers to Your Business Blog in One Day
Most of us would choose the last one. Because it is specific.
When there are vague references to numbers or when you offer estimates, you’ll look suspect or like you’re fudging.
So don’t be afraid to be precise. It will only help you build trust and credibility.
And by the way, if you have any questions pertaining to this episode — or any episode of Rough Draft for that matter — don’t be afraid to shoot me a tweet @demianfarnworth or drop a comment on the blog.
And if you haven’t already, do me a favor: leave a rating and a review on iTunes. That’s one of the best ways you can show support for what I’m doing here on Rough Draft. Besides, I always love hearing from you — it makes me work harder.
So until next time, I’ll be engorging myself on fried fish and waiting for the end of the world.
Take care.