Picture this: it’s circa 2014, and I am hunched over a notebook, sitting at my cheap pine dining room table that I bought off of Craigslist, practicing writing copy. “Copy” is the term we use for “marketing words,” written to sell a product or a service.
I sat there practicing copywriting like so many of my entrepreneurial peers at the time. We had all heard the adage that you should write out—by hand—some of the best-selling copywriting so you could better understand how it worked, how the writer used emotion and imagery, and how persuasion took place through a few thousand words.
You can learn a lot about a writer and their techniques by writing out their work and studying it. I did it with some of my favorite authors. Practicing this way does make you a better copywriter.
However, it took me years to realize what bothered me about the practice: all of the copywriting models were written by men who got rich writing snail mail copy during the 90s (the Dan Kennedys of the world). And they all used the same old model: play on emotion. Touch the pain point over and over again. “Persuade” was more like “manipulate.”
I stopped practicing once I realized why it never sat well with me. I started wondering why there’s no easy way to say “Here, you will like this, please join me.”
Why must it be pain points that we press on and not joy points? Why is avoiding discomfort and pain—and therefore leaving yourself open to manipulation because of your desire to avoid it—more comfortable than pursuing joy?
The Old-School Gospel of Marketing
For decades, the gospel of marketing has been written in pain points. This approach didn't emerge by accident. It was carefully crafted in the post-war era when mass consumerism collided with emerging psychological insights about human behavior. The "father of public relations" Edward Bernays, Freud's nephew, pioneered the use of psychological manipulation in advertising, setting the stage for generations of marketers to follow.
The Dan Kennedys and Gary Halberts of the direct response world didn't invent pain-point marketing—they simply codified it into a repeatable system that worked remarkably well in an era when consumers were less savvy about marketing tactics. But at what cost?
When we consistently frame our offerings through the lens of pain avoidance, we create a self-perpetuating cycle of scarcity and fear. Think about it: if every marketing message you write focuses on what's wrong, what's missing, what needs to be fixed— you begin to see the world through that lens. You become a pain-point prospector, constantly mining for what's broken in your audience's lives.
This doesn't just affect your marketing; it reshapes your entire relationship with your work and your audience. It's exhausting to constantly focus on problems. It's draining to always be the person pointing out what's wrong. And more importantly, it creates a dysfunctional dynamic where both the marketer and the audience are trapped in a cycle of problem-hunting.
But there's another way. Let's call it Resonance Marketing, although I’m more attached to the thinking behind it than the name itself.
Instead of starting with what's wrong, we begin with what's possible. Here's the framework:
Illuminate the Vision. Rather than poking at pain points, paint a vivid picture of possibility. What does the world look like when your offer has done its work? What becomes possible? What joy gets unlocked? This isn't about ignoring challenges – it's about leading with possibility rather than problem.
Create Connection. Through Shared Values Instead of manipulation, focus on alignment. What core values drive your work? What beliefs do you share with your ideal audience? When you lead with values, you attract people who are already oriented toward your vision.
Offer Clear Pathways. People don't need to be convinced they have problems – they need to see clear paths forward. Show them the steps, share the process, illuminate the journey. Be transparent about what's required but focus on progress rather than pain.
Celebrate Growth. Replace the scarcity narrative with stories of expansion. Share examples of what becomes possible, highlight transformations, demonstrate the ripple effects of positive change. This creates an upward spiral of inspiration rather than a downward spiral of fear.
Honor Agency. Trust your audience's ability to make good decisions for themselves. Instead of trying to convince them they need your solution, offer clear information and trust them to know if it's right for them.
This shift isn't just about being nice – it's about being effective. When we market from a place of genuine enthusiasm for what's possible, we attract people who are ready to create change rather than those who are simply running from pain. The relationship begins with inspiration rather than desperation.
Implementing this approach requires unlearning some deeply ingrained habits:
Replace "What keeps you up at night?" with "What gets you excited about tomorrow?"
Instead of "Pain-point solutions," think "Possibility pathways"
Rather than "What are you afraid of?" ask "What are you ready for?"
This doesn't mean ignoring challenges or pretending everything is perfect. It means changing the entry point of the conversation. We can acknowledge difficulties while leading with possibility. We can be realistic while remaining optimistic.
The marketing world doesn't need more pain prospectors. It needs more possibility pioneers – people willing to imagine and articulate a different way of connecting, selling, and serving.
The next time you sit down to write copy, ask yourself: Am I mining for pain or mapping possibilities? Am I manipulating fear or mobilizing hope? The choice might seem subtle, but the impact is profound – both on your audience and on yourself.
Let's create marketing that leaves both the writer and the reader feeling more expanded, more capable, more inspired. Because ultimately, the stories we tell shape the world we create.