Where every click is a journey and every impression counts.
A fancy way of saying people have heard of you, which is basically the corporate equivalent of being popular in high school. Companies spend millions achieving it, only to realize awareness doesn't mean people actually like you.
An unconventional marketing strategy that relies on surprise and creativity because you can't afford a Super Bowl ad. It's the marketing equivalent of a flash mob: sometimes brilliant, often embarrassing, and always making the legal team nervous.
The corporate rebranding of "making stuff up to sell things," now elevated to an art form at marketing conferences worldwide. Every brand now has a story, even if that story is just "we sell soap" wrapped in 3,000 words of emotional manipulation.
The intangible value of a brand name that makes people pay $5 for a coffee they could make at home for 30 cents. It's basically the financial measurement of how successfully you've brainwashed the public into thinking your logo means something.
The marketing world's favorite meaningless word, covering everything from a like to a share to someone rage-commenting on your post. High engagement can mean people love you or that you've accidentally started a flame war, and marketers celebrate both equally.
Headlines designed to be so irresistibly intriguing that you click before your brain can stop you. "You won't believe what happened next" is the marketing equivalent of dangling a laser pointer in front of a cat, and we all fall for it every single time.
The process of finding people who might want to buy your stuff, which mostly involves bribing strangers with free ebooks in exchange for their email addresses. It's essentially the corporate version of trick-or-treating, but you're the one handing out candy.
The practice of dividing your audience into groups based on shared characteristics so you can send them slightly different versions of the same spam. It makes marketers feel like scientists even though most segments end up being "people who bought stuff" and "people who didn't."
The widest part of the marketing funnel where you cast the broadest net possible and hope some fish are actually interested in enterprise software. It's where you attract the maximum number of people who will never, ever become customers.
A group of strangers that Facebook's algorithm thinks are similar to your existing customers, based on the terrifying amount of data it has on everyone. It's digital matchmaking, except instead of finding you a date, it finds people equally likely to buy your yoga mat.
Using robots to buy and sell ad space in milliseconds, removing the human element from advertising so brands can accidentally appear next to conspiracy theory videos at the speed of light. It's efficient, opaque, and occasionally terrifying.
Content that stays relevant forever, like a blog post about how to boil water or the timeless art of writing listicles. Marketers love it because you write it once and pretend it's generating value for the next decade.
User Generated Content, which is a polite way of saying you're using your customers' photos and videos instead of paying for a professional shoot. It's the marketing equivalent of asking someone to bring a dish to a dinner party you're hosting.
A strategy where brands try to be everywhere at once, like a helicopter parent but for customer experience. The goal is a seamless experience across all channels, which in practice means your app, website, and store all crash at the same time.
Cost Per Click, or the exact dollar amount you pay every time someone accidentally taps your ad while trying to close it. It's like putting a coin jar next to a door handle and charging people for touching it on their way out.
Return On Investment, or the question that makes every marketer break into a cold sweat during budget meetings. It's the ultimate accountability metric that everyone claims to care about but nobody can accurately measure, making it the Bigfoot of marketing.
A euphemism for the tortuous path a person takes from not knowing your product exists to finally buying it out of sheer exhaustion. Marketers map it out like it's the Oregon Trail, except instead of dysentery, customers die of pop-up fatigue.
A person with a large social media following who gets paid to pretend they organically discovered your protein powder. The modern equivalent of a billboard, except billboards don't have existential crises about their engagement rates.
The number of people who see your content without you paying for it, a number that social media platforms have been slowly suffocating to death for years. It's like a restaurant that keeps shrinking portion sizes until you're forced to order extra sides.
Search Engine Optimization, the dark art of convincing Google your website deserves to be on page one. It involves a mixture of keyword stuffing, backlink begging, and praying that Google's latest algorithm update doesn't send your traffic back to the Stone Age.
Numbers that look impressive in reports but mean absolutely nothing, like counting how many people walked past your store without ever coming in and calling it brand exposure. They exist primarily to make quarterly presentations look good while avoiding any meaningful conversation about revenue.
A series of automated emails that slowly wears down a prospect's resistance over time, like water torture but with subject lines. The idea is that if you email someone enough times, they'll eventually buy something just to make it stop.
The total cost of winning a new customer, including all marketing and sales expenses divided by the number of customers acquired. Also known as CAC, or 'the metric that determines whether your business model is brilliant or just elaborate money-burning.'
Search Engine Results Page, the digital battlefield where websites fight for the top position like gladiators in a colosseum run by Google. The first page is prime real estate, and the second page is where websites go to die in obscurity.