Ever try to get anything done these days and realize that no one seems to pay attention to emails anymore?

You send a message. No answer. You send a follow-up. No answer. And then your mind slowly starts to unravel…

Did I type the email address wrong? Nope. Is my internet connection down? Nope. Is this “The Sixth Sense” and I’m Bruce Willis? Nope.

But on another level, you totally understand because sometimes you dread checking email too. We live in the wreckage of the attention economy. You open your inbox the way you crack the door to a room where you trapped a bat. Why? Because it’s a chaotic public square where strangers attempt to relocate their problems into your afternoon.

Unread emails are Schrödinger’s tasks: as long as they remain unopened, the request inside them exists in an indeterminate state: kinda real, kinda not. Opening them collapses the waveform, and now you feel obligated. (I keep a folder in my inbox called “Later,” which is like naming a cemetery “Eventually.”)

But, at times, we still need people to respond. Feels like we’re stuck.

Well, before you start using a process server, let’s talk about sales pitches for a second. Yeah, sales pitches:

“HUGE SAVINGS! TODAY ONLY!!”

Despite these emails making you want to slam your head into your keyboard, they’re also pretty effective. (Every time you think, “Ugh, no one reads that,” a marketer somewhere is laughing their way to the bank.) These sales tactics understand the human psyche better than your overpriced therapist.

So, like it or not, we can learn a thing or two from them. Ethically. We don’t want to come off as hucksters, but we can definitely steal their tactics and use them for good, whether it’s crafting work emails or just convincing your friend to finally RSVP…

We’ve had hostage negotiators teach us how to lower our bills and bomb disposal experts explain the secrets to staying calm under pressure. Now it’s time to learn about persuasive writing from copywriters.

The book we’ll be drawing on this time is “The Copywriting Sourcebook” by Andy Maslen.

Let’s get to it…

Appeal To Self-Interest

Stop thinking about how you benefit from sending the email and start thinking about how the reader benefits from receiving it. If you want to write persuasively, you need to start with a clear appeal to the reader’s self-interest. Forget this and a response to your email will be postponed to Neveruary.

Ask yourself: “Why should they care?”

And then answer it immediately. Up top. First line. The point is, get to the point. Remember “The Princess Bride”? He didn’t say, “Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya, a long time ago when I was a young boy…”

No. He said, “Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya, you killed my father. Prepare to die.”

You might think “appeal to the reader’s interest” is manipulative. It’s not. It’s the rent you pay to live in someone else’s head. Manipulation is when I make you do what benefits me while pretending it benefits you. Persuasion is when I show you how what benefits me might also benefit you.

(To learn how FBI hostage negotiators persuade people, click here.)

When’s the single most important time to be persuasive?

Before they ever open the email…

Use A Good Subject Line

Even if you’ve composed a message that has the rhetorical force of a Supreme Court brief, if they don’t open the email, it doesn’t matter. And your subject line is the only thing that can convince them to open it.

Ogilvy & Mather tested subject lines for effectiveness. All the best ones fell into three categories:

1. Those offering a benefit.
2. Those promising news.
3. Those arousing curiosity.

A combination of all three was the most effective of all.

It’s not that hard to write better subject lines… mostly because the bar is incredibly low. Think about what you see on a typical day:

“Newsletter #37.” Oh, thrilling. Can’t wait to not open that for the 37th time in a row.

“Current status of deliverables.” AI sounds more human than that. Send me a subject line like that and I’m going to ask you which of these images has a bus in it.

Most people just describe the contents of their email as if that’s enough. That’s not writing; that’s labeling. Imagine a movie trailer that just said, “Runtime: 1 hour 42 minutes. Contains actors.” That’s your average email subject line.

“Q2 performance metrics attached.” Congratulations, you’ve written a suicide note for your own message. You know what people actually open? “How we quietly outperformed everyone last quarter.” Same data, but now it’s gossip. Now it’s a story. Now it’s alive.

Of course, there are limits. Curiosity beats clarity until curiosity becomes a lie, at which point your reader marks you as an enemy combatant. Don’t mislead. But you’ll get more replies at the office with “How we can close the Johnson deal” and more replies from your teenagers with “Do this and you can use the car Friday night.”

(To learn about how to use neuroscience to persuade people, click here.)

But what style should you write in?

Be Human

Ease up on the formal language. It’s an email, not a court summons. You can relax. You can say “Hi.” You can even use contractions. Good copywriters sound as though they’re sitting across from you in a diner, telling you something funny between bites of a sandwich.

Yes, I know, work emails require a level of professionalism. Sure. But that doesn’t mean you need to write in a way guaranteed to make people’s eyes glaze over. “Our groundbreaking app provides users with cutting-edge, comprehensive tools to enhance workplace synergy.” Ugh, pass me the noose. Seriously, who talks like this? I’ll tell you who doesn’t: your friends. If your friends talked to you like that, you’d start looking for new friends.

Now “conversational” doesn’t mean performatively chummy. It means sentences with blood pressure. The courage to write the way you talk. The alternative is that bureaucratic gel we’ve all learned to excrete, language so denatured you can practically see the HR guidelines.

And skip the cliches, unless you want to sound like that guy who’s still quoting “Anchorman” like it’s 2004. No jargon. And don’t get me started on “circle back.” This phrase makes me want to run in squares out of sheer defiance. “Touch base.” “In alignment.” You could replace half your corporate vocabulary with barnyard noises and nobody would notice. People are moved by warmth, by clarity, by the sense that there’s an actual person behind the words.

Keep in mind that when most people are confronted with a piece of writing, they don’t start by reading it. No. They’re asking themselves one vital question: “Is this going to be easy to read?

So keep paragraphs short. You know what they’re thinking if they see one massive wall of text? Unabomber manifesto. Aim to stay under five lines per paragraph.

Similarly, short sentences are your friends. They’re punchy. They’re the difference between “I have a dream” and “I have a profoundly intricate vision of an equitable future where the systemic inequalities that have plagued our society are finally addressed in a meaningful and comprehensive manner.” One is a tranquil walk through the park. The other is a panic attack in sentence form.

Every once in a while, I’ll get an email from someone that starts with something like, “I have no idea how to say this without sounding like an idiot, but…” and I feel my shoulders unclench. There’s relief in that, in knowing someone’s dropped the mask for a second. So yes, write like you’re talking to a friend. Be the email that makes someone smile instead of groan.

(To learn about persuasion from leading expert Robert Cialdini, click here.)

So how do copywriters ask people to do things?

Have A “Call To Action”

If you want people to do something, ask them. Directly.

Don’t hover around the point like a middle schooler trying to ask someone to the dance. Every copywriter learns this in the first week. They call it the “call to action,” which sounds like something the Navy would shout before launching a boat, but it just means: tell the person what to do next and by when. People do what you make easy, obvious, and immediate.

Do not be afraid to give a deadline. The human brain treats “by Friday 5 p.m.” like a parking spot: clear, bounded, usable. Also, if the action has consequences, state them. “If we miss Tuesday, the launch moves to next week.”

And by all means, don’t just end your email with “Let me know what you think.” That’s vague. Instead, try “Can you send me your feedback by Wednesday so we can move forward?” or “RSVP by Friday or risk me showing up at your house with sadness in my eyes.”

Keep it singular, too. One email, one action. One. Your email shouldn’t read like a choose-your-own-adventure for people who hate adventures.

None of this is bossy or rude. A clear call to action is a favor. It reduces cognitive load. It says, “I did the hard thinking so you can just reply ‘yes’ and move on with your day.” Copywriters assume you are scrolling at a red light, eating a pretzel, late for a meeting, while reading about Taylor Swift realigning GDP with her latest tour. So they give you one verb, one link, and one deadline. You call it pushy; the reader’s prefrontal cortex calls it merciful.

(To learn how to improve your writing from the screenwriter of the film “SEVEN” click here.)

Okay, we’ve covered a lot. Let’s round it all up and learn the simple trick copywriters swear will get people to read at least part of your message…

Sum Up

Here’s how to write persuasively…

• Appeal To Self-Interest: Whether it’s your boss, a coworker, or that flaky friend, you’ve got to spell out how this benefits them. “If we finish this project early, we can avoid staying late on Friday” or “Come to my party: there will be pizza and I won’t make you talk to anyone you don’t like.”
• Use A Good Subject Line: Stop sending “Newsletter for October.” No one’s opening that. Try something like “How we can finish this project 3 days early.”
• Be Human: “Our product is a revolutionary amalgamation of cutting-edge technology and unparalleled innovation.” Stop. Go to your room and think about what you’ve done.
• Have A “Call To Action”: Even spam emails tell you, in no uncertain terms, “Click here for eternal joy and to protect your bank details from space demons.” You know exactly what they want from you. They’re not coy.

The sad state of affairs: no one is reading your message. They’re skimming it.

But if there’s a P.S.?

Oh, they read the heck out of that.

Everyone reads the PS. Why? It’s where the writer breaks character and levels with you: “Look, I know that was a swamp of words. Here’s the thing you came for.” The P.S. is where the anxious social niceties of paragraph one go to die, and where the ritual throat-clearing of paragraph two is gently euthanized. It’s where the author steps out from behind the prose like a waiter leaning in to say, “If you want the only dish people come here for, order the stew.”

If you want people to act, say the thing where they’ll see it. Tell your reader why it matters, throw in a deadline, give them one last nudge toward doing the thing you’ve spent the last three paragraphs making a case for: “PS: Please send the draft by 5PM. It’ll make sure the boss doesn’t get angry with us.”

And this isn’t just for business emails. The PS can be “I miss you.” “I’m sorry.” “Please call.” The P.S. is a tiny confessional, a place where we drop the performance and just say the thing.

At the most basic level, all these techniques are just good manners. Tell them why they might care. Be friendly. Ask for one thing and make it easy. No one owes us attention. When we treat it like a favor instead of tribute, people treat us like humans instead of interruptions. The best communication isn’t about transaction; it’s about connection.

A while ago, during a period when my life was unraveling, a friend sent a message with no subject line and two sentences: “I’m coming over. I’m bringing soup.”

It was not persuasive copy. There was no CTA. It was, however, perfect communication, unmistakable in both intent and affection. For years, I’ve kept that email in a folder I creatively labeled “Keep.”

So yes: study the mechanics. Practice the sharp, simple truths that good copywriters teach. Use them for good. Learn the tricks, sure.

But keep the part of you that knows when to shut up and bring soup.

PS: I told you people always read it.