Where every click is a journey and every impression counts.
Republishing your content on third-party platforms to reach wider audiences, like licensing reruns of your hit show to other networks. Efficiency gains meet brand dilution concerns.
The percentage of shoppers who add items to their online cart then flee before completing purchase, usually hovering around a soul-crushing 70%. It's the digital equivalent of people filling their shopping basket then just walking out of the store.
The cost to deliver 1,000 ad impressions, abbreviated as CPM where 'M' is the Roman numeral for 1,000 because marketing loves needlessly confusing acronyms. It's the pricing model that treats eyeballs as commodities.
The tally, result, or numerical outcome of counting things—the what-you-got after the tallying is done. In marketing metrics, count is your basic unit of measurement: impressions, clicks, conversions, or whatever you're obsessing over this quarter.
Creating elaborate diagrams showing every touchpoint a customer encounters with your brand, from blissful ignorance to purchase and beyond. It's like stalking, but with Post-it notes and the pretense of empathy.
Marketing strategies targeting your competitors' customers directly, often by bidding on their brand names in search ads or comparing products head-to-head. The polite term for poaching.
When blog posts and content gradually become less relevant and stop generating traffic—your evergreen content compost pile.
In marketing, the act of acquiring and retaining customer attention, data, or loyalty—the primary objective disguised as content strategy.
Suggesting complementary products to customers based on what they're already purchasing. It's the retail equivalent of being a helpful friend, if that friend worked on commission.
A narrow, elevated stage where models strut their stuff to prove that walking in a straight line is apparently a learned skill. The fashion industry's answer to a balance beam, but with more attitude and significantly higher heels.
The amount of money you must spend to acquire a single customer, a number that usually makes your CFO weep.
The price of showing your ad to 1,000 people, regardless of whether they notice, care, or develop sudden amnesia about your brand.
A prospect or lead who has been successfully transformed from a skeptic into a paying customer—or in marketing metrics, that beautiful moment when a prospect's value finally justifies the ad spend that chased them.
The amount you pay each time someone clicks your ad, a fee structure designed to reward quantity over quality.
The percentage of people who see your ad and actually click it—a vanity metric that makes marketers feel important until they check conversion rates.
The practice of systematically improving the percentage of visitors who complete a desired action. It's where you obsess over pixels and sentences until your users finally comply.
Those mental shortcuts our brains take that advertisers ruthlessly exploit—confirmation bias, anchoring, sunk cost fallacy—basically why marketing works despite being ridiculous.
The cost of reaching 1,000 people with an advertisement, where advertisers pay for impressions regardless of engagement. It's essentially paying people to see your ad and then ignore it.
The document telling creative teams exactly what to make and how it should communicate—basically a cage for creative people.
The cost of acquiring a specific user action—whether purchase, signup, or download—paying only when people actually do something.
Testing different ad designs, videos, images, or messaging to see what resonates. Like A/B testing but for the actual advertisement itself.
When someone actually does what you want—buy, sign up, call—the rare moment that justifies your entire marketing spend.
What you pay each time someone completes a specific action—purchase, signup, download, etc. It's the advertiser's way of only paying for results that actually matter.
The cost to display your ad to 1,000 people, regardless of whether they click it. The advertiser's relationship with a brick wall—you pay to exist, whether anyone looks or not.