You’re standing on a busy New York street.
Cars pass. People walk by. Neon lights flicker. Nothing special.
In front of you is a small, ordinary hot dog shop. Bright lights. Plastic menus. The smell of fried onions. The kind of place you’d never remember twice.
And yet, you’re here for a reason.
Someone told you to come.
Not Yelp.
Not an ad.
A friend of yours.
You step inside. You order nothing. Instead, you walk toward the back and notice something strange: an old phone booth, squeezed awkwardly between the walls.
You step in. Close the door. Pick up the receiver and dial a number.
For a moment, nothing happens.
Then someone answers: “Do you have a reservation?”
Of course you don’t have one. Your friend didn’t tell you anything about a reservation. And, to your luck, they ignore it.
Suddenly, the wall opens.
Behind it is a completely different world: cozy dim lighting, polished wood, soft conversations, carefully made drinks. A bar that feels hidden, intentional, almost conspiratorial.
That, is the story of Please Don’t Tell (even the name is related).
You didn’t find this place.
You were invited into it.
And the most important thing isn’t what you’re drinking.
It’s what just happened to you.
Because now you have a story. A unique experience about knowing something others don’t. A story that proves you belong somewhere exclusive. You’re an insider now.
And despite the name, you think to yourself “telling it to just one person wouldn’t hurt”.
This is the power of Word of Mouth, at its finest.
Why is WOM better than any type of ad
We live in a world saturated with advertising.
We know what an ad looks like, what it sounds like, and what it wants. Not to inform, but to sell.
And because we know, we’ve adapted.
We scroll past.
We skip.
We mute.
We filter.
We modern consumers aren’t naïve. The moment we realise something tries to sell us something we become vigilant. Advertising has become a game of overcoming resistance.
Well Word of Mouth plays a different game entirely.
When a friend tells you about a restaurant, a movie, a product, or a tool, something crucial has already happened before the message even lands: they decided it was worth telling you.
That decision carries weight.
It means they thought of you.
It means they filtered information on your behalf.
It means they judged relevance, not just quality.
That’s instantly much deeper than any targeting traditional ads can achieve.
The recommendation feels:
more honest,
more targeted,
more personal,
and, paradoxically, more objective.
Not because your friend is perfectly rational—but because they don’t gain anything (obvious) by telling you. There’s no incentive structure. No campaign. No call to action. Just relevance.
It also operates below the radar.
There are metrics for ads. Impressions. Clicks. Conversions.
But there are no dashboards tracking:
how many times a product came up in conversation,
how often it was mentioned casually,
how many group chats it entered,
how many “you should check this out” moments it generated among people.
Yet, those moments quietly shape what we think, buy, and do.
Believe it or not, the things others say to us—in passing, in texts, in late-night conversations—leave traces. They build familiarity. They normalize choices. They lower uncertainty. By the time we “decide,” the decision has often been rehearsed socially.
I know. It sounds, uncomfortable, to say the least. I will make it as clear to you as possible.
How to generate buzz
– If an ad didn’t make you share it with another person, it failed its job.
This isn’t a checklist or a framework you need to follow for your next big product launch. It’s a way of thinking that has been formulated around the most studied properties that make a product or a service irresistibly shareable.
At its core, buzz doesn’t come from people liking something.
It comes from people wanting to talk about it, and that’s significantly broader and not at all theoretical.
That urge tends to follow a few recurring patterns:
First, there’s social value.
People don’t share things just because they’re useful. They share things that make them look interesting, informed, or “in the know”. When talking about something raises a person’s social standing—even slightly—it becomes conversational fuel. This is why secrets, exclusivity, and insider knowledge spread so easily. Sharing them says something about who you are.
Second, there are triggers.
Some ideas don’t just exist on their own; they attach themselves to everyday moments. A product, phrase, or concept that’s mentally linked to something people encounter often will keep resurfacing in their minds—and therefore in their conversations. The more frequently life reminds you of something, the more likely you are to talk about it.
Third, there’s emotion.
Not all emotions are equal here. Calm satisfaction rarely spreads. High-arousal emotions—excitement, anger, awe, anxiety—do. When something makes us feel activated, we’re more likely to pass it on. Sharing becomes a way to discharge emotion socially.
Fourth, there’s visibility.
People copy what they can see. When a product or behavior is observable, it becomes easier to imitate and easier to talk about. The more public something is, the more it advertises itself—without feeling like advertising.
Fifth, there’s practical value.
People enjoy being helpful. When something saves time, money, or effort, sharing it feels generous. It turns the act of recommendation into a small social favor. This kind of sharing doesn’t feel like promotion; it feels like care.
And finally, there’s story.
Information rarely travels alone. It travels embedded in narratives. A good story carries the message along with it, without announcing that it’s doing so. The product or idea becomes part of the plot—not the headline. This is why the best “marketing” often doesn’t feel like marketing at all.
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When these elements come together, sharing stops being something you ask for.
It becomes something people do on their own.
Not because they were instructed to.
But because talking about it fits naturally into who they are as social creatures.
And that’s real buzz:
It isn’t engineered attention.
It’s social gravity.
Once it’s there, things move on their own.