A few weeks ago, I wrote about Once in a Lifetime Offers. This is a follow-up about bogus marketing. I missed something when I penned that first piece.
A month ago, a client sent me a link to a free webinar. The gist was free training: How to earn R50,000 in social media.
I’d seen many other offers. Most showed you how to invest R40,000 in advance each month to perhaps get R50,000 two months later. I wanted to know how this method differed.
I enrolled. The promoter was giddy with joy.
He sent me 10 bogus marketing emails during the next 24 hours.
Just in case I forgot the value on offer or the time or the date.
- The eventual event lasted three hours.
- The value of the goodies offered was R700,000.
- The proposal for the night was around R200,000.
- As long as the live audience clapped like Kim Jong-un supporters, the Irish presenter lowered the price to R9,999.
- Just for the night. Incredible. (in the original context of not credible.).
I consigned emails from said promoter to my bin until July 9.
And then I noticed something. This single fellow was sending me more requests for my attention each day than all my requests for help from my clients.
Each email had eye-catching subject lines
- Did you see what FNB did???
- Invoice #453 – Peter
- Peter did you know about this?
- (Once a year) this workshop is free…
- [URGENT] Response Required
- [FLASH SALE] Save Up to R500 To See Robert Kiyosaki Live
- Learn how to inspire and impact millions with your words.
My clients, outstanding people who pay me, value my time even more than I do.
This fellow sells anything and everything to anybody and everybody.
He doesn’t care how much of my time he wastes.
To him, I am not a person. Instead, I am a fish waiting to be hooked. I am money waiting to be banked.
I noticed this in a recent, unrelated webinar. The presenter spoke of me as an “it”, a lead. Not a person, not a prospect. An “it” waiting to be hooked by subject-line clickbait.
I realised my clients don’t ask for much of my time.
People trying to sell to me demand swathes of time each day. They’re bogus marketers.
Last Monday’s treasure trove comprised three 60-minute podcasts, a bunch of blogs, some Youtubes, and another two webinars to attend. About 6 hours of my attention. Every day.
Every single email shrieked, “If you don’t read this expect instant cataclysmic misfortune.” And, even worse, “Your neighbour will soon drive a better car than your beat-up Datsun 120Y.” Each screeched FOMO: The latest mad fad: Fear of Missing Out.
Time to stop the bogus marketing deluge.
I began unsubscribing to all those specious promises.
Not one neighbour bought a new car. I await the apocalypse.
I still follow people who don’t shout. People like Seth Godin.
After a week, I feel as I did after fasting for a colonoscopy. Squeaky clean.
If you’re not reading what’s arriving, unsubscribe. You won’t feel guilty about not reading it if you don’t even see it.
Your life is too important to be driven by a stranger.
Updated January 5, 2022