Free Persuasive Writing Course from a 155-Year-Old Genius

Visual by Boyd & Canva

Many of us are so busy looking for the latest and the most cutting-edge tools to help us market or persuade that we often fail to look behind us — like 97 years behind us.

Born in 1866, Claude C. Hopkins was one of the most influential copywriters who ever lived. Through his career writing advertising for Quaker Oats, Bissell Carpet Sweepers, and Pepsodent Toothpaste, he is credited with pioneering some of the most-used advertising tactics ever: sampling, risk-free trials, money-back guarantees, market testing, and more.

How good was he? Hopkins was hired by the Chicago advertising firm Lord & Thomas (today’s Foote Cone Belding) at a salary of $185,000 a year. In 1907. That would be over $5,000,000 today — rockstar money.

A Hopkins ad selling a unique benefit: beer that won’t make you bilious. Public domain.

In 1923, he shared his wisdom and experience for free with marketers in a book called Scientific Advertising. It was an instant classic.

David Ogilvy, one of the 20th century’s copywriting legends, said of Hopkins’ book:

“Nobody should be allowed to have anything to do with advertising until he has read this book seven times. It changed the course of my life.”

Hopkins’ lessons can help you, too.

Since its copyright has expired, there are various places on the web where you can read the book for free. Here’s a good one:

Scientific Advertising

Even the writing style of Scientific Advertising is a lesson. You’d expect a century-old text to sound dated, with flowery sentences embroidered with archaic words. You’d be wrong in this case. Hopkins and Ernest Hemingway were both writing in the 1920s, and they shared a love of short, punchy sentences that clearly communicate.

Without overstatement and fuss, this clear writing style reads perfectly well today, a century after it was written.

I believe Hopkins would have clapped for my article about the perils of adjective overuse in copywriting.

Hopkins, who characterized advertising as “a business’ most important salesperson,” said this about clarity:

One must be able to express himself briefly, clearly, and convincingly, just as a salesman must. But fine writing is a distinct disadvantage. So is unique literary style. They take attention from the subject. They reveal the hook. Any studies done that attempt to sell, if apparent, creates corresponding resistance… They create the suspicion that an effort is made to sell them on other lines than merit.

A Hopkins ad extolling the natural benefits of palm and olive oils — a message that’s timely today. Public domain.

Okay, but is the information dated? We’ve certainly changed a lot since 1923. We explored other planets, we cured polio, we created a World Wide Web that now connects (and divides) us all.

True. Of course, Hopkins, wise as he was, couldn’t advise on modern communication methods. In his day, radio was just getting started; newspaper and magazine ads, posters, and free samples were the primary vehicles marketers had available. He gives a lot more thought to direct mail than most of us do — especially with today’s rising postage costs and lengthening delivery times.

And his repeated use of the male nouns “salesman” and “salesmen” does not reflect the world of business we know today.

However, his insistence on research, testing, and trial-and-refinement of advertising messages gave him masses of factual data about what motivated people to act and what did not. That’s the “Scientific” part of the book’s title.

And people are motivated now by the exact basic needs, wants, and ideas as they were a century ago. Ask yourself: Are people still risk-averse? Do people still like free samples of products? Are money-back guarantees still effective?

Many marketers then, as well as now, loved what they were offering the public so much that their messages were inflated with self-congratulation and puffery.

Hopkins says:

People will not be bored in print. They may listen politely at a dinner table to boasts and personalities, life history, etc., but in print they choose their own companions, their own subjects. They want to be amused or benefited. They want economy, beauty, labor saving, good things to eat or wear.

Who knows what “Irium” is but Hopkins used it to sell boatloads of toothpaste. Public domain.

We live in an era of show-off consumption. Through years of boom, bust, (even COVID,) movie and music stars, social media influencers, and a wealth of everyday folks continue to fill the coffers of luxe brands like Louis Vuitton and Lamborghini.

While many businesses then and now race to the bottom of the marketplace by featuring low-cost merchandise, Hopkins offers this advice:

We learn that cheapness is not a strong appeal. Americans are extravagant. They want bargains but not cheapness. They want to feel that they can afford to eat and have and wear the best. Treat them as if they could not and they resent your attitude.

In 21 short chapters, Hopkins succinctly lays out his wisdom on testing, headlines, psychology, visuals, and much more — an entire copywriting and persuasion course.

Before you lay out hundreds of dollars to learn the “Secrets of the Latest Millionaire Marketer,” why not give this classic a look for free?

(Hopkins might say, “That’s not cheap, that’s a bargain.”)

My promise to you: If you don’t find something of value in Scientific Advertising… why, I’ll refund every penny you paid for it. No questions asked.

Here’s a review of Scientific Advertising from Medium.

And more takeaways from Hopkins’ book.