The 30-second test for marketing copy

Take any line on your homepage. Read it aloud. Now ask: based on what?

If you can answer the question with a specific source within thirty seconds, the line ships. A number. A study. A customer name. A measurable outcome.

If you can't, cut the line or rewrite it until you can.

That's the test. It's older than the internet and it works on every kind of writing that tries to make a claim.

Apply it to a homepage you didn't write. "Trusted by leading enterprises." By whom, and which? "The fastest tool of its kind." Faster than what, measured how? "Loved by thousands of users." Thousands? Twelve hundred? A hundred? Or did you read a tweet once and round up?

Most marketing copy is not lying. It's worse than lying. It's making sounds that look like claims but couldn't be defended in a conversation that lasted longer than ninety seconds. Vague enough to dodge accountability. Specific-sounding enough to fool a casual reader. Bullshit's older sibling.

The 30-second test forces honesty by forcing specificity. Specific copy reads slower. It uses smaller numbers. It admits what it doesn't claim. It names actual things.

Used by 47 teams in healthcare.

Saves the average user four hours per week, based on 200 surveyed accounts.

The only tool that ships with [specific feature], because the alternatives don't yet.

These read smaller than the puffery. They are also infinitely more believable. A reader's bullshit detector relaxes the moment they see a number that isn't a round one. 47 is more credible than 50+ in every direction. Four hours per week is more credible than boost productivity.

The discipline of running this test on your own copy is uncomfortable. Most pages won't survive it. That's the point. Most pages don't deserve to.

What ships when you're done is shorter, quieter, and trustable. It also ages better. The puffery you wrote in 2024 will look ridiculous in 2027. The specific claim from 2024 will still be defensible.

Run the test on every line you'd put in front of a stranger. The lines that survive are the ones worth keeping. The lines that don't were costing you trust you didn't know you were paying for.