We twist facts to fit ourselves

Personality tests become catnip when they hand the reader a flattering adjective and let memory do the unpaid research. The result feels specific because the customer supplies all the specificity.

“You value independence, although there are moments when you seek reassurance.”

The reader remembers moving city alone. They also remember phoning a friend before accepting a job. Accurate.

“You can be sociable, but sometimes need privacy.”

There was that loud dinner last month and the quiet Sunday afterwards. Uncanny.

Nearly fifty people received the same personality sketch. Ninety per cent rated it very good or excellent. The test was bogus; the examples people supplied from their own lives were real. That is enough to make recognition feel personal.

Flattering descriptions fit more people. Few object to learning that they contain unusual depths, concealed strengths and an admirable tension between caution and courage. Paying for the analysis adds another reason to find value in it.

Customer personas are often written just as generously. “Digitally confident, appreciates human support.” “Values convenience and quality.” These descriptions exclude nobody you would want to sell to. They can explain almost any action once it has happened.

An analyst asks which customer would fail to fit the persona. The group produces a fictional man who dislikes convenience and actively prefers poor quality. He is removed from the target market.

Another analyst tries the opposite description. With a few different examples, it sounds plausible too.

The persona survives because nobody is asked to find a living customer it excludes, and that magnificent generosity is precisely what makes it commercially useless.

Behavioural principles

Behavioural ideas at play in this post

Short, plain-English explanations of the principles behind this post, with links to related books and examples in the archive.