Sorry, but professional ethics prevent disclosing the company’s name. But I will say this: In print it looked made-up. I couldn’t even tell how to pronounce it. When one of the VPs in the meeting said it aloud, I thought it sounded a lot like what I’d yelled earlier that morning when I stubbed my toe en route to the bathroom.

“It’s a real word,” enthused the above-referenced VP. “It’s in the dictionary. It means [not telling]. Isn’t that cool?” 

I looked it up upon returning to my office. Yep. Real word.

But as for “isn’t it cool,” the answer is no—because it’s waaaaay obscure. Chances are you have never heard or used it. If I disclosed it, you’d probably have to right-click on it for a definition. Assuming you cared enough to bother.

When you must explain what your name means, then no, it isn’t cool. It’s an inside joke. One that only people on the inside will appreciate.

The better bet is to pick a self-explanatory name. It is, for instance, pretty clear what’s for sale at Dressbarn or Burger King. This is not to say that all is lost if your name isn’t self-explanatory. Just be sure never to let it out of the office without a clear descriptive line. It is, for instance, pretty clear what’s for sale at ROSS when it’s followed by DRESS FOR LESS or at Walgreen’s when it’s followed by PHARMACY.

There are exceptions. McDonald’s, Kroger, and Best Buy are neither self-explanatory nor typically accompanied by a descriptive line. If you have in your advertising budget the billions you’ll need to attain their level of awareness, go for it.

The people in the meeting loved their name and, more important, were offering my firm money to handle their direct mail. So I kept my yap shut—no small feat for me.

Obscure name notwithstanding, the direct mail we created and mailed for them was quite successful. Thanks for asking.

And that, folks, is how you make a loyal customer. I might add that Coffee Gator French presses are great. Among their many virtues, they’re indestructible.

Moving though it may be that TIME wants me back, the cold, hard fact is, I don’t care. When it comes to spending decisions, my wants are the only ones that matter.

To be sure, in the body is a can’t-miss-it 92 percent discount offer—but  it remains invisible if no one opens the email. The best way to get someone to open an email? Put something compelling in the subject line. Which, for reasons already discussed, “We Want You Back” isn’t.

One might ask, You obviously opened it. How else would you know about the 92 percent discount offer? Answer: They send it repeatedly, and I have lost count of how many times I have deleted it unopened. I opened their most recent attempt only to blog about how awful their subject line is. 

I’m betting a subject line like “Exclusive resubscription offer: 92% off” would fare better. I am loath to give away free consulting, but then, I doubt anyone at TIME is reading. I doubt they want me back that​ much.

​There’s nothing wrong with treating type as a design element. There is everything wrong with treating it as only a design element. People need to be able to read the damn text.

​I ASKED THE advertising manager of a large organization with a sizable budget to tell me her advertising objective. Believe it or not, that’s something many an ad manager cannot do and has never considered.

“To produce inquiries,” she replied without hesitation. Impressed, I laid out what direct response marketers know, how they know it, and how they would devise a measurable campaign to produce inquiries. 

She heard me out. Well, she awaited her turn to talk. With patent parental pride, she showed me the advertisements that the organization’s outside ad agency created and was running for them. 

This is unusual for me: I found the wherewithal not to say that based on my experience the admittedly clever ads likely had the pulling power of brittle rubber bands. Instead, I asked, “How many inquiries have the ads produced?”

“None,’” she said, shrugging, “but they got noticed, so they did their job, right?

“If the objective was to get noticed, yes, but if the objective was to produce inquiries, no.”

Another shrug. “Yeah, well you can’t expect an ad to do that.” 

Actually, you can and you should. I could have sworn I had gone through that, but, just in case, I went through it again.

”Yeah, I know,” she said, “but the ads got noticed, so they did their job, right?”

Getting noticed requires no expertise. People with a body odor problem get noticed all the time. So do nails on chalkboards, dogs barking next door at midnight, and people who pick their nose in public.

I didn't say any of that. I could tell it was time to shut up. 

​I didn’t walk away with a new client.

​Call me a wimp, but I am not eager to invite a hacker or virus into my computer.

That’s why, when a company I do business with emails me a link to a great offer, I don’t click it. I log on to the company’s website and look for the offer there. 

If the marketer is smart, the offer will be featured prominently on the home page. If the marketer is less smart, I may have to search for it. If I can’t find the offer, it’s possible that I’m dealing with an incompetent marketer, but it’s more likely that I just dodged a phishing bullet.

Which brings me to this suggestion for marketers:

When you email your customers an offer, go ahead and provide a link so don’t lose lazier customers. But for security-minded customers who won’t mind an extra step or two, also provide prominent, easy-to-follow instructions for finding the offer on your website. And briefly explain why going that route is a good safety practice.

You’ll be educating customers on Internet safety, which is a valuable service. And you might just protect a customer or two from the next virus or hacker.

Recently, the glut of ready-to-cook-pre-measured-ingredients-to-your-door companies like Blue Apron had caught my attention. I knew they weren’t for me, however, because you still have to cook the stuff, which smacks of work. It was Freshly that hooked me. All you had to do was pop the meal in the microwave for two and half minutes. That level of effort I could handle.

Freshly extended a compelling introductory offer, a necessity in their business, so I gave them a try. A couple of weeks later, twelve, high-end, microwavable meals about the dimensions of a Stouffer’s entree arrived at my door. Each weighed around twelve ounces, give or take. They were packed cold, not frozen. 

Four meals into the twelve, this one-person jury reached a verdict. Freshly’s products were better than I’d feared but not good enough to keep ordering.

Steeling myself for what I was sure would be an ordeal, I returned to Freshly’s website to bail. A lot of companies make bailing difficult, which is a really dumb idea: Once a customer makes the decision to bail, making things difficult will not endear you.

Freshly was, pun intended, refreshingly different. Their site has easily-found, clear instructions for closing an account. They beg and plead along the way, of course, but they don’t make it difficult. Once your resignation is complete, they ask if you’d mind telling them why. I did. Not long after, I received a gracious email thanking me for giving them a try. “We’re sorry we let you down,” it said.

The experience left, pun intended again, a good taste in mouth. If you feel like giving Freshly a try, I have no hesitation assuring you it’s safe to proceed.

—Steve Cuno

​I’ll lead with the opening paragraph of Michael De Dora’s harrowing 2016 article in Religion Dispatches: 

Writer.

Hacked to death.

Think about that.

I live in a country where a tiny paragraph known as the First Amendment lets me express just about any thought I wish. I write not in hiding but from the comfort and safety of my living room. The worst consequence I face for speaking my mind might be the loss of a friend or two, possibly a client. Imprisonment? Execution? They are to me all but incomprehensible.

I am not content to sit here idly appalled. I am doing my part to help people who live where free speech is a capital offense. I support the Center for Inquiry’s Secular Rescue program:​

Why the focus on ​religious expression? Because no one takes more seriously the importance of religious freedom than secularists. As a secular organization, the Center for Inquiry understands there is no freedom of religion unless everyone has it, believers and non.

Even in the United States, there are geographic pockets where being Jewish, Muslim, or a non-believer is downright risky. One of the best ways to ensure religious persecution in the U.S. remains abhorrent is not to become inured to it—not to permit it—elsewhere in the world.

Moreover, lives are lives, no matter where victims live. If you would like to help save lives, I urge you to click here to learn more about supporting CFI’s Secular Rescue program.

—Steve Cuno