Karl Marx (John Jabez Edwin Mayal) and Vladimir Lenin (Unknown, presumably official), Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

During dinner at the recent New York Press Association Publishers’ Conference, talked turned towards the misuse of the term “click-bait.” In a strict sense, the term applies to misleading descriptions of internet links. These phrases “bait” you to “click” the link; hence, “click-bait.” Links that have nothing to do with the sentence that lured you to click makes this technique unethical. That’s why “click-bait” has such a negative connotation.

Copywriters for more than a century have searched for sentences that “sizzle.” Elmer Wheeler documented the early years of this journey in his 1937 book Tested Statements That Sell. If you don’t recall the name of this Rochester native dubbed “America’s Greatest Salesman,” you will certainly know his most famous phrase: “Don’t sell the steak. Sell the sizzle.” (See “Did You Know About This Sizzling Greater Western New York Hidden Gem?” Mendon-Honeoye Falls-Lima Sentinel, June 10, 2021).

Whether it’s writing advertising copy, creating newspaper headlines, or crafting book titles, it’s well known certain words and phrases attract awareness. If you want to get someone to read what you write, you need to grab their attention.

This is where the publishers landed at that dinner. They lamented the fact that “click-bait” had given the art of headline writing a bad name. It takes genuine talent to build a headline that gets readers to the first sentence (which is the only goal of a headline). That same talent has a dark side. It’s called “click-bait.” Journalists know the difference between the good and the bad. Readers often don’t. They classify all effective headlines as “click-bait,” even the ones that are simply good headlines.

In the course of this conversation, I mentioned how the headline from last week’s Commentary developed in a way to bring the reader into the article. It was the third week in a row I was writing about an ostensibly Catholic topic, and I didn’t want people thinking I was freelancing for the Catholic Courier. As I described the process (giving kudos to Betsy for strengthening it), I inadvertently referred to the headline as a “title.” Books and chapters have “titles.” Newspaper columns and articles have “headlines.” The other publishers reminded me of this.

What about the headline to this column? You’re probably wondering, “What does any of this have to do with communism?” If this is so, you’re going to be disappointed. Take another look at the above title—er—headline. It, and this column, will talk about Marx and Lennon, but the subject has nothing to do with communism. It has to do with words and how you use them. The individuals referred to in the headline aren’t Karl Marx and Vladimir Lenin, they are Groucho Marx and John Lennon.

Groucho Marx/John Lennon Abkhazia stamp, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

The headline reflects a clever ploy copywriters have traditionally used: the pun. You see fewer punny or poetic headlines. Why? Because the click-bait world demands “honest” and “action-oriented” headlines. This is why you see so many “How To” headlines. They promise to answer a question you have right now.

Using a pun takes away from that. It also sometimes attracts the wrong readers. For example, the above headline might attract people interested in economic theory, not those interested in how they might mimic popular culture figures. Of course, being a print article, readers familiar with this column might expect a twist in the story regardless of the headline. The twist here is it’s not Marx and Lenin, it’s Marx and Lennon.

But that’s not all the headline offers. It’s also provocative. This is where Groucho and John rear their familiar faces. Both made a living using provocative language. Between books and scripts (Groucho) and songs (John), they practiced a refined skill at headline (or title) writing. Both used puns. Both used humor. Both provoked their audience.

They had, however, different objectives. It’s not how they employed the tools of headline writing, it’s what action they intended their audience to take.

Groucho wanted you to smile. Not just once, he wanted you to smile many times. He employed a form of layered comedy, and puns made this easier. You can watch the same scene twice and see the words differently both times. What’s more, both views will leave you laughing, but at completely different things.

TV shows like The Simpsons following in the footsteps of Groucho Marx. Kids will laugh because they see one layer of humor. Adults laugh because they see a different layer. And they’re watching the exact same scene.

When you see Groucho talking either in his game show You Bet Your Life or being interviewed on a talk show, you see a fun-loving man who enjoyed making you laugh.

John Lennon, on the other hand, presented himself as an angry man who wanted you to get angry. This was particularly the case in his solo years, as his Beatles mates likely muted some of his anger.

Superficially, this might reflect a certain type of repellant personality. But Lennon remains a popular icon. Some of his post-Beatles songs express a raw emotion that’s meant to grate the listener. These include Mother, How Do You Sleep?, #9 Dream, and Gimme Some Truth. The titles of his songs might be driven by anger, but, oddly, they also possess hope. Song like Imagine, Instant Karma! (We All Shine On), Happy Xmas (War Is Over), Mind Games, and Give Peace a Chance all fall into this category.

Ironically, Lennon’s song God takes this full circle where he states a litany of “don’t believe” statements meant to irk just about everyone. He concludes “I don’t believe in Beatles. I just believe in me. Yoko and me. That’s reality. The Dream is over. What can I say? The dream is over. Yesterday. I lost the dream weaver, but now I’m reborn. I was the walrus, but now I’m John. And so, dear friends, you’ll just have to carry on. The dream is over.”

If that doesn’t provoke you, well, then you were never a fan of The Beatles. Still, it’s an effective provocation because it achieves what Lennon seeks.

So, who are you more like? Groucho Marx or John Lennon?

For me, I’m more “Starr”y-eyed. (As in Ringo Starr.) I just want to get along with everyone.

Ringo Starr, dearMoon, CC BY 3.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0>, via Wikimedia Commons