NLP and other Techniques
On any given day, we’re bombarded by subtle messages carefully crafted to sway our thoughts and actions. It could be a commercial that tugs at your heartstrings to make you favor a brand, or a politician’s speech that leaves you oddly inspired (or fearful) without quite knowing why. The art and science of influence have evolved over centuries, but in the last few decades they have become astonishingly sophisticated. Is it possible that words, images, and sounds can function like lines of code, programming the human mind? In the 1970s, a provocative idea emerged that claimed to do exactly that. It was called Neuro-Linguistic Programming, a name that evokes laboratories and circuit boards, though it was really about human behavior. NLP, as it became known, promised that by decoding the language of the mind, anyone could learn to re-wire their brain or even influence others. Around the same time, advertisers and political strategists were discovering their own techniques to subtly hack into our decision-making processes. These developments grew in parallel, each part of a larger story: the quest to understand how language and psychology can shape our reality.
Programming the Mind with Words
In the early 1970s, on the campus of the University of California in Santa Cruz, an unusual collaboration was taking place. A young computer scientist and psychology student, Richard Bandler, had teamed up with a linguistics professor, John Grinder. They shared a bold question: what if the magic of therapy and hypnosis could be bottled and taught?
At the time, certain therapists were achieving astonishing results— people overcoming phobias in a single session, or adopting new behaviors just by talking with a skilled counselor. Bandler and Grinder were particularly fascinated by masters of communication like Milton Erickson, a famed hypnotherapist who could guide someone into a trance with artfully casual conversation, and Virginia Satir, a therapist who healed family rifts with carefully chosen words and empathetic presence. Rather than chalking these successes up to intuition or talent, the pair believed there must be a hidden structure to how these experts used language and non-verbal cues. They set out like linguistic detectives, analyzing transcripts of sessions, noting the tone, rhythm, and phrasing that seemed to unlock patients’ minds.
The result of this investigation was Neuro-Linguistic Programming. The name itself tells the story: “neuro” for the brain and nervous system, “linguistic” for language, and “programming” for the idea that our thoughts and behaviors can be coded, modified, and optimized. NLP argued that much of our experience, like our fears, habits, motivations is governed by internal “programs” in the form of mental images, words we tell ourselves, and feelings, all interacting beneath conscious awareness. If you could change the language of those programs, you could change the experience. Early NLP training taught techniques to do just that. For example, practitioners learned to establish deep rapport with someone by mirroring their body language and speech patterns – if a client spoke slowly and quietly, the therapist would also slow down and soften their voice. This, they claimed, made the client’s unconscious mind more trusting, more open to influence.
Another technique was called “anchoring,” where a particular gesture or tone is repeatedly paired with a desired emotion, like confidence; later, simply making that gesture (say, pressing thumb and forefinger together) could instantly bring back the feeling. It was like planting a trigger in the brain. NLP enthusiasts spoke of “reframing” unwanted beliefs, essentially using words to spin a new perspective on a troubling situation, so that the mind would perceive it differently and dissolve the problem. To a newcomer at an NLP seminar, it all felt a bit like wizardry or stage magic.
Indeed, charismatic trainers like Bandler would demonstrate by bringing a person on stage, talking to them in a seemingly casual but carefully orchestrated way, and within minutes the volunteer might report their lifelong spider phobia was gone, or that they suddenly felt motivated to pursue their dream job. Word spread, and NLP rode the wave of the 1970s human potential movement, promising a kind of user’s manual for the mind.
Although scientific psychologists remained skeptical of its more extravagant promises, the influence of NLP seeped into popular culture.
Even so, self-help gurus and motivational speakers quickly incorporated its catchphrases and techniques; even the young Tony Robbins, who would later become a giant in the personal development industry, trained with NLP pioneers and wove some of their methods into his fiery stadium shows. The business world was not far behind. By the 1980s, seminars for salespeople taught “NLP for sales,” encouraging agents to mirror a client’s posture in a meeting or to use the client’s own words when describing a product (a subtle way to say, “I’m like you, you can trust me”). A salesperson might, for instance, notice a customer repeatedly saying, “I just feel this is the right choice,” and then respond, “I want you to feel great about this decision” echoing the key word feel. This mirroring technique, borrowed straight from NLP, aims to signal to the customer’s subconscious that we are on the same wavelength. And when people feel understood, they are more likely to be persuaded. Thus, NLP’s legacy lived on not just in therapy offices, but in boardrooms and car dealerships, quietly shaping conversations and closing deals.
The Psychological Arsenal of Advertising
Even as NLP was taking shape in California, the advertising industry had been honing its own form of psychological programming for decades. In fact, the idea of tweaking the human mind through media goes back at least to the early 20th century. Modern advertising was born when marketers realized that selling a feeling or identity was more effective than just selling a product.
One of the trailblazers was Edward Bernays, a nephew of Sigmund Freud, who unabashedly applied his uncle’s theories of the subconscious to sway public opinion. In the 1920s, Bernays orchestrated a campaign that convinced women that smoking a cigarette was a bold statement of emancipation – he branded cigarettes as “Torches of Freedom” and had high-society women flaunt them in an organized parade. The ploy was wildly successful: sales of cigarettes to women skyrocketed, all because a product had been reframed as a symbol of independence and equality. Around the same time, Bernays helped shift social norms by marketing the idea that the modern American home should have a “breakfast room” with a piano— a clever scheme to boost piano sales by tapping into people’s desire for status and cultural sophistication. He understood that you don’t sell the piano, you sell the dream of being the sort of refined family that owns one.
As decades passed, advertisers grew ever more adept at these mind games. By the 1950s, terms like “the hidden persuaders” were being used to describe how ads snuck into people’s psyches. Commercials began to appeal not just to logic – “Buy this soap because it cleans better” but to emotion and aspiration – “Buy this soap and your family will be happier, your life more glamorous.” Car ads sold not vehicles but freedom on the open road, romance, or prestige. Perfume ads sold allure and mystery. Behind the scenes, psychologists and market researchers worked to discover what made people tick. They found that certain colors could evoke hunger or trust, that particular words or images could trigger nostalgia or anxiety in the audience. This knowledge was weaponized in the marketplace. Supermarkets learned to play slow music to make shoppers linger and spend more. Children’s cereal boxes featured cartoon characters with big friendly eyes placed at kids’ eye level to forge a personal connection. Movie theaters even experimented with subliminal messages… quick flashes of “Drink Cola!” or “Eat Popcorn!” – inserted into film reels.
Although the most infamous subliminal experiments turned out to be less effective (and ethically dubious), the mere fact that advertisers tried them showed how eager they were to pull levers in the unconscious mind.
Over time, a kind of unwritten playbook of persuasion emerged. Its tactics are so ubiquitous now that we hardly notice them, but they prey on our minds every day. Some of the key strategies include:
Social proof: People tend to follow the crowd. Advertisers show us ratings, reviews, or the classic “#1 best-seller” label to suggest that “everyone else is buying this, so should you.” Political campaigns love to display throngs of cheering supporters to imply a wave of popular approval that you’d want to join.
Scarcity and urgency: If something seems limited or fleeting, we instinctively want it more. “Limited time offer!” or “Only 3 left in stock!” triggers a fear of missing out. Politicians use this too when they say, “This is our last chance to change course,” pressing voters to act out of a sense of urgent scarcity (of time or opportunity).
Authority and celebrity: We are wired to trust authority figures and admire celebrities. That’s why ads feature doctors recommending toothpaste or movie stars driving a luxury car – a transfer of credibility and appeal. In politics, the endorsement of a respected figure or a general’s stern approval of a candidate operates on the same principle.
Emotional triggers: Perhaps the most powerful tool is emotion. A message that makes you feel strongly can override your rational skepticism. Advertisements commonly use heartwarming stories, adorable animals, or stirring music to give you a warm glow that becomes subconsciously linked to their product. Negative emotions are used as well: a security system commercial might first make you feel afraid by showing a burglary scenario, then offer relief in the form of their product. Political ads are masters of this technique – a campaign might run a somber ad that shows a nation in peril and then present their candidate as the hero to assuage the fear they just stoked.
With tools like these, modern marketing and media can skillfully guide our choices without us ever realizing. Have you ever found yourself humming a jingle and craving a particular snack, or repeating a political catchphrase as if it were your own idea? These are signs of how deeply these “programs” can embed in our minds. By repetition and strategic appeal, what begins as someone else’s message becomes entwined with our own thoughts. And in the age of mass media, these techniques scaled up remarkably: a single television commercial broadcast during a popular show could subtly influence tens of millions of minds at once, planting seeds of desire or belief that might sprout later.
Persuasion in the Age of Media and Politics
The worlds of advertising and political propaganda have always been closely related. They both seek to sell something, be it a product or an ideology. As technology advanced, so did the reach and precision of these influence campaigns. By the late 20th century, political consultants were explicitly borrowing from Madison Avenue (the metonymic home of ad agencies). They tested which slogans resonated best with focus groups, learned how the framing of an issue could swing public opinion, and understood that repetition was key.
The techniques of NLP found their way into politics too, in spirit if not by name. Speechwriters chose words that would paint mental pictures and stir emotions—an approach NLP might call using “sensory” language to speak to the unconscious. A candidate might declare, “I see a brighter future on the horizon,” appealing visually and optimistically, or “I hear your concerns loud and clear,” implying empathy and active listening. These phrases are not accidental; they are crafted to resonate with the way our brains link language and experience.
Political campaigns also learned the value of personalization, something that the founders of NLP would have appreciated (since NLP was all about tailoring communication to an individual’s internal world). In the 21st century, personalization has become a science-fiction-level tool: campaigns and companies harvest data from our online lives – the websites we visit, the posts we like, the purchases we make – to build psychological profiles of each one of us. With the help of algorithms, they can target us with messages calibrated to our personality and biases. If you often post about environmental issues, you might see an ad that frames a policy in terms of saving nature; your neighbor, who cares more about jobs, might see a different ad for the same policy emphasizing economic growth. The message is tweaked to slide smoothly into the existing grooves of the mind. This micro-targeting was famously employed in recent elections by firms who claimed to use “psychographic” profiles (essentially, personality-driven data points) to sway voters on a massive scale, one tailored ad at a time. It’s as if each voter is whispered a slightly different persuasive story, all with the same goal.
The media landscape itself amplifies certain psychological effects. Social media platforms, driven by algorithms that maximize engagement, often serve us content that plays to our emotions – outrage, fear, or validation. Each time you react strongly, you’re likely to see more of the same, creating echo chambers that reinforce specific narratives. This isn’t a human editor consciously manipulating you, but the outcome is a kind of automated mass persuasion: a feedback loop where our psychological buttons are pressed to keep us clicking and scrolling, while also shaping our worldview. In a sense, we become both the influenced and the influencers, sharing messages that triggered us, adding credibility to them among our peers.
So, what is happening inside our brains through all of this? Neuroscience and psychology tell us that our brains are efficient, sometimes to a fault. We have mental shortcuts – heuristics and biases – that help us make quick decisions or judgments without always engaging in slow, careful thought. These shortcuts are exactly what many persuasive techniques target. Hear something often enough (especially from multiple sources) and your brain tends to accept it as true simply because it’s familiar. See a confident authority figure or a likable celebrity endorse something, and part of your mind thinks, “If they believe it, it must be good,” sparing you the effort of critical evaluation. Feel a surge of fear or excitement, and your brain’s fight-or-flight circuits can seize control, pushing rational analysis into the back seat. The language of influence works by nudging us along these paths of least resistance. An effective advertisement or speech doesn’t ask you to think hard – it helps you to feel or to accept a ready-made conclusion so you won’t have to think too much at all.
The evolution of NLP and modern media persuasion shows just how far the exploration of these mind hacks has come. NLP started as an attempt to map the mind’s language for personal change and one-on-one influence. Today, the same underlying principle – that certain words, images, or cues can alter our mental state – is leveraged on a societal scale.
The ethics of these techniques can vary. A therapist using NLP-inspired methods to help someone conquer a fear is generally seen as a positive. But a politician using fear-based slogans to win votes, or a company nudging children to crave sugary cereal, is a more troubling scenario.
Are we comfortable with how easily our brains can be influenced? It is a testament to our humanity that we are so moved by stories and emotions – these are, after all, the glue of culture and communication. Yet it also means we must stay vigilant.
In a world where influence is everywhere, understanding how it works is more important than ever. The story of NLP and its kin in advertising and politics is not just a tale of clever tricks, but a reminder of our own cognitive vulnerabilities. It encourages us to pause and ask: Whose words are buzzing in my head right now, and why? By pulling back the curtain on these subtle psychological hacks, we gain the power to recognize when our buttons are being pushed. We can enjoy the rousing speech or the heartfelt commercial, but also wink to ourselves, acknowledging the craftsmanship behind the curtain. The human brain is wonderfully malleable, and that has given rise to ingenious methods to sway it… but the more we know about them, the better we can keep our minds our own, even as we navigate the sea of persuasion in modern life.