As I glanced over the new 500 page book in my hands, hoping to find something to ask about before the event started, I felt a pressure on my shoulder. Glancing over, the source of the pressure was discovered to be a large hand with long, thick, sausage-like fingers at the end. They belonged to a large man, dressed in a black suit with a white shirt and black tie. His head was shaved, and he was wearing sunglasses indoors, giving him the impression of a stereotypical bodyguard or secret service agent. He smiled a wide grin. ”Hi, I’m Sultan. Are you excited for the reading?”
Yes, I really should have thought this through more.
The last book signing I had gone to was when I was 11 or 12, and Walter Cronkite had been in Phoenix signing his autobiography. Having recently learned about the early days of television, I begged and pleaded with my parents to let me go. Luckily, the persuasion worked, and I soon found shaking hands with the greatest newsman of the 20th Century, who had a surprisingly strong grip for an 80-year-old. At this signing, people just lined up to have copies of A Reporter’s Life. But the author that I was going to see was definitely not Walter Cronkite.
Looking around the room, I saw that I might have been the only guy there whose decision was based off of the author’s work rather than his reputation. All around me, men (and a few grumpy-looking girlfriends) shifted in their seats with nervous anticipation, some wearing leather pants making an almost fart-like noise against their chairs. Turning around, I saw that there were even more people standing behind the seats, a cloud of hair products and cologne almost obscuring the crowd.
When Neil Strauss finally arrived, the crowd applauded and cheered loudly for what seemed like a full minute. Their reactions to his stories and comments seemed almost over exaggerated, like a sitcom laugh track. But by the time that everyone jumped in line to get their books signed, I was sucked in. When I finally got the chance to talk to the author, I was a nervous, blubbering mess.
Why? Because the energy from the crowd caused me to hop on the bandwagon of excitement. Although I had really only gone to support an author whose work I enjoy, I wound up a drooling fanboy.
Although groups can be more knowledgeable and accurate than experts, they can also suck people in and project their collective feelings onto them. A group is a powerful social organism and a crucial element of social change. Think about the times that you’ve bowed down to peer pressure, wondered about how so many people could like something, or made a concentrated effort to be nonconformist – these are conscious steps taken to resist the pull of a group.
Social media people know this. Marketers know this. Hell, most everyone knows this. And yet, time after time, we fall victim to the power of groups over our individual preferences. But if you can transition your personal brand into a driving force for a crowd of people, you’ll find that your status goes up considerably.
I’d had little to no interest in seduction community stuff before I came to the book signing, despite it being the field in which Neil is most widely known. But after my experience with the crowd, I wanted to buy every pick-up artist-type book that was in the store.
Neil Strauss created a personal brand that developed a loyal and passionate following. Doing so has allowed him to cut his time spent working on his brand, allowing his crowd of fans to do the work for him. And maybe that’s the goal of creating a personal brand in the first place – to let the group take over, spreading excitement and energy to others, giving your brand even more power than you could have harnessed on your own.