If you're talking to everybody, you're talking to nobody
How to use AI to finally find your "who."
Welcome to todayâs edition of ROBOTS ATE MY HOMEWORK. Today weâre going to stop writing love letters to the entire world and start whispering secrets to the one person who actually matters.
I love Wes Anderson films. The screen always floods with perfect symmetry, pastel colors, and deadpan actors delivering exquisitely quirky dialogue. Some people find it brilliant, others find it insufferably twee. There is no in-between.
Wes Anderson repels 80% of the audience to forge an unbreakable bond with the 20% who get it.
Most founders are too terrified to do the same.
They sand down every sharp edge and polish every provocative thought until their message is a perfectly smooth, perfectly boring sphere that rolls past everyone without traction.
Theyâre talking to everybody, so they connect with nobody.
(7-minute read)
Today, we're dissecting that very mistake. Here's what's in it for you:
An AI workflow for turning your chatbot into a brutally honest, skeptical version of your best customer.
A counterintuitive marketing law that proves why generic copy is doomed to fail.
A final, non-negotiable step to anchor your messaging and make it impossible to ignore.
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This fear of being specific is a fundamental violation of marketing's first law:
âKnow your customerâ
Yet, the vast majority of founders commit this error daily, writing for a vague, mythical creature called âThe General User.â
The result is a feature list that reads like:
"Increase ROI," "Streamline Workflows," "Drive Synergy."
Corporate jargon is a confession that you donât know who youâre actually talking to, so youâre trying to say everything at once, hoping something sticks.
The fear is logical: a smaller audience feels like smaller revenue. But the real reason we write cowardly copy is ego. We, the founders, are optimists who hate rejection. The thought of someone looking at our creation and saying 'This isn't for me' feels like a personal failure. So we sand off the edges, not for the customer, but for ourselves. We build a monument to being liked, and in the process, create something no one can love.
This desire manifests as 'hedging language.' We add a feature for this group, a benefit for that group, and sand down any opinion that might be controversial. So, you water down the language until itâs harmless, impotent, and completely invisible. Your fear of offending a potential customer is making you boring to your best customer.
Weâre going to fix that.
Step 1: Define Your One Reader Right Now
Forget your 12-page persona docs. For this exercise, we need one person. Not a demographic, a person. Be ruthlessly specific.
Not an audience: "Marketers at tech companies."
A person: "Diana, the first marketing hire at a B2B SaaS startup. She's 28, overwhelmed, and her CEO just asked for a 'content strategy' by Friday. She secretly thinks all AI content sucks."
Write down your "Diana." Give them a name. Feel their pain. This is the person you are writing for today. Everyone else is a ghost.
If Diana feels hazy, it's because you're still describing, not interrogating. Ditch the abstract and ask the real questions:
What job title is so new it still feels weird to say?
What did her boss just ask for that sent her to Google in a quiet panic?
What's the 'stupid' question she's terrified to ask her peers?
Find the insecurity, and you'll find your âDianaâ.
Step 2: The "Alter Ego" Prompt
This is where you turn your AI from a helpful intern into a world-class critic. The goal is to give the AI a role so specific it can't default to generic praise. To get a sharp output from AI, you must first give it a sharp identity to inhabit.
Open your AI of choice. Feed it this exact prompt:
You are going to adopt a persona. Her name is Diana. She is the first marketing hire at a Series A startup. She is overwhelmed, her CEO is asking for an SEO strategy she's never built before, and she secretly feels like an imposter. She is skeptical of marketing jargon, short on time, and has been burned by software that over-promised and under-delivered.
Your task is to read my landing page copy through her eyes. I want you to be brutally honest. I will paste the copy below. Go through it sentence by sentence and tell me exactly what Diana is thinking and feeling.
1. What sounds like bullshit?
2. Whatâs confusing?
3. Where do her eyes glaze over?
4. What sentence makes her almost close the tab?
5. What, if anything, gives her a tiny flicker of hope?
Do not be polite. Do not be an "AI assistant." Be Diana.Step 3: Get Roasted
Now, paste your copy. All of it. The headline, the sub-headline, the feature blurbs. And then brace yourself.
If youâve done this right, the feedback will be painful. It will feel personal. Thatâs the point.
Youâll see things like:
"Empowering businesses..." Instant eye-roll, who talks like this?
"A seamless solution..." Sounds like something a consultant who charges $500/hour would say. What does it actually do?
"We leverage cutting-edge AI..." Okay, I'm boooooored.
That last one was a real piece of feedback I got when I first ran this exact process for Yahini a year ago (although not word by word). I thought our AI was the differentiator, but to a skeptical reader, it was just more noise. That single piece of feedback forced me to stop talking about the how (AI) and start talking about the so what? (no more generic fluff).
This is a strategy âdocumentâ you cannot write yourself. You are too close to the project.
Once you know something, like how your product works or why your features are great, it becomes impossible to imagine not knowing it.
You can't see the confusing jargon or the logical leaps because your brain automatically fills them in.
Step 4: Rewrite with Empathy
Your ego is bruised.
Good.
Now the real work begins.
Go through the AI's "roast" line by line. Your ego will want to argue. Silence it. The machine channels your customer, so treat its feedback as gospel.
If it called a phrase "B.S.," kill it. If it was confused, clarify it. If it rolled its eyes, replace the jargon with a simple, human word. You're replacing your desire to sound smart with your customer's need to feel understood.
"Streamline Your Content Workflow" becomes â "Finally, a content plan that doesn't make you want to cry."
"Increase Your ROI" becomes â "Ship content that your CEO will actually be impressed with."
The framework here is simple: Shift from listing Features to describing Future States.
A Feature is the cold, dead spec on your features page ('Streamline workflows')
A Future State is the relief your customer feels on Friday at 4:45 PM ('A content plan that doesn't make you want to cry').
Ask yourself: After Diana uses my product, how does her life change? Does her CEO stop bugging her? Does she get to leave work at 5 PM on a Friday? Does she finally feel like she's not an impostor? Write that.
Youâll now be replacing cowardly copy with a sharp, compelling argument that resonates with the right person.
A little note⌠That sting of criticism youâll feel is the catalyst. It is the pressure that forces you to abandon the crowd and speak to one person.
đĄ A NEW CONCEPT FOR YOU
That sting from the AI roast is the entire point. It will prove to you that youâve stopped outsourcing the hard thinking and have started shouldering the cognitive load for your customer.
This is the central mechanism of a principle I call The Inverter. Its logic is simple: To scale your message, you must first shrink your audience.
Every instinct tells you to broaden your message to reach more people. This is wrong. The correct path is to narrow your message until it resonates with violent intensity for a specific few.
Think of it like the physics of pressure.
The formula is Pressure = Force / Area.
Your marketing 'force' (your budget, your energy, your team) is finite. To create immense pressure and make an impact, you have two choices: dramatically increase your force (which is impossible for most) or dramatically shrink the area you're applying it to.
Generic marketing is trying to apply 10 pounds of force over a square mile. It makes no impression. Specific marketing is applying 10 pounds of force to the tip of a needle. It breaks through.
The above workflow is the practical application of The Inverter. You do the hard work of defining Diana. You endure the pain of the roast. You absorb the complexity so that when the right person reads your copy, your value feels obvious.
⨠ONE MORE THINGâŚ
The AI roast is an incredibly powerful simulation, but a simulation nonetheless.
Once you've used it to sharpen your copy, the ultimate test is to put it in front of real people. A concept is a map, but a direct response from your target is the territory. If you're ready to test your newly sharpened copy, try a platform like Wynter. It puts your messaging in front of your verified target audience for direct qualitative feedback.
Before you spend that money, you can hone your headline to a molecular edge with one final prompt. Take the headline you rewrote after your AI roast and feed it back in.
My current headline is "[Your New, Sharper Headline]". My target reader is Diana, the overwhelmed first marketer at a B2B SaaS startup. Generate 5 alternative headlines that are even more provocative, specific, and emotionally resonant for her. Make them feel like I've been reading her diary.This is how you go from good to great. You stop trying to please an imaginary crowd and start a real conversation with a single person.
Name them.
Who is the one person you've been too afraid to write for?
Hit reply and tell me. You don't have to give me their name, just their title or their pain.
To the one reader who matters,
Chief đ¤ at ROBOTS ATE MY HOMEWORK