It was late in the evening. James sat alone in his office, trying to write down his company’s Unique Selling Proposition.

On his right shoulder was an angel, as bright and silvery as burning magnesium. If you squinted, you could make out her long robes and her long silver trumpet.

The angel spake. “James, the truth is simple. All you need is a single pure truth. Find that, and you have your answer.”

James started writing. ‘We combine technology solutions onto a single platform’.

On his left shoulder was a devil. Blink and you’d miss him: a whirl of red and black, of cinders and ash. He danced mesmerically on his cloven hooves.

The devil grinned. “C’mon James, give yourself some credit. It’s a little more complicated than THAT. Write it all down.”

James wrote a bit more. ‘We combine multiple technology solutions together to provide a seamless platform for an end-user to leverage’.

The angel protested. “This is hardly fair on your reader. He is busy. Use his language. And give him a simple reason to think of you.”

James crossed out everything he’d written, and started again. ‘A single platform.’

The devil threw back his head and laughed. “A single platform? Sounds like an abandoned railway station. Is that what you want? James, baby, you’re the expert, right? You gotta give ‘em the whole story.”

James went to work. ‘A single seamless, efficient and engaging platform for an end user to leverage when preparing or delivering or following up afterward’.

The angel stamped her feet and blew her trumpet. Out came a tiny, high shrill tone rather like a stationary mosquito. “Don’t bury the crucial message. Let clarity be your watchword!”

James crossed it all out again and wrote ‘Everything in one place’.

The devil produced an electric guitar, a Gibson Flying V that he stole from Keith Richards. He played a seductive blues lick and squatted on his haunches. “Gimme more Jimmy, gimme it all. Gimme more Jimmy, gimme it all… COME ON JIMMY BABY COME ON YOU’RE THE EXPERT YEEEAAAHHHHHHH”

James surrendered. He wrote in a frenzy, and then, seduced by the hypnotic rhythms, he stood. He stamped his feet and shook his head and played along savagely until at last he smashed his air guitar against a filing cabinet.

*

All of which is the only rational explanation I have for the following USP that I came across recently. I’ve anonymised it a bit by masking the industry sector, but other than that it’s word for word, honest:

“Our business’s USP is its integrated nature to combine multiple XYZ technology solutions together to provide a seamless, efficient and engaging platform for an end user to leverage when preparing for their XYZ, delivering their XYZ and collecting feedback afterward; complete with real-time analytics and dedicated account manager.”

“Goody, that’s just what I wanted,” said nobody, ever. Unless they smell of sulphur.

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