If you need help unraveling the Divine Mind of God Almighty, I’m not your man. I mean, don’t get me wrong — I’m not a total dolt: I have my own personal theories and assumptions, just like you do (plus, I watched that wicked-cool documentary “Raiders of the Lost Ark”). But I don’t have any special insights.
And honestly, I don’t think anyone else does either — not with absolute certainty. Perhaps that’s intentional: “Faith” and “knowledge” were never intended to be synonyms. Of course, that won’t stop the charlatans from claiming they know exactly what happens to our souls the moment we pass away. (Some even wrote best-selling books about it. Others have launched their own religions with themselves as the new deity.) Since the days of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, there’s always been great social equity in convincing others that you’re an expert on the afterlife.
These tend to be the kind of “experts” who want to argue to death about what happens after we die. But it’s pointless: When you strip away their bull and their bluster, they don’t know how God thinks even if they say they do. Furthermore, if they had any appreciation for the measureless reach of an eternal, omniscient, all-powerful Deity, they’d hang their heads in shame for even contemplating that man could decipher God.
Their premise alone is profane.
But if you want to know how Satan thinks, I’m the top expert around. Way better than your priests, ministers, fathers, bishops, or preachers! Why? Because I’m a marketer. And so is Satan.
Marketing is a strictly outcome-based endeavor. Our only bottom line is the bottom line: Did we ring registers and close sales? Or did we fail? Marketing campaigns aren’t based on beliefs; they’re based on tactics. And that’s the only ultimate litmus test that matters: Did your marketing campaign maximize your business model?
In marketing, the “right” tactic isn’t the one that’s the cleverest, the most truthful, or the most aesthetically pleasing. Those qualities are all very nice, but we’re not artists — we’re marketers. The “right” tactic is whatever maximizes the desired output. That’s our only focus.
Satan’s business model doesn’t depend on aesthetics, either. That’s not his gig: He’s in the business of inducing behavior. Mostly, he’s a storyteller.
Just like me.
And it’s his job to pitch stories relevant to his business model.
Just like me.
Even if a story is wondrous, witty, and poetic — a melodic masterpiece, painting a rich, vibrant tapestry of heartfelt emotions — if it fails to ring registers, the story was a dud. Similarly, Satan doesn’t tell stories for their own sake; he tells stories to generate a specific reaction.
Just like me.
So I’ll tell you point-by-point how Satan would market religion and politics:
First, he wouldn’t announce from the get-go that he’s selling something evil. When you’re marketing to the masses, being perceived as evil is a profit-killer. We’re predisposed to think of ourselves as good and moral; the stench of evil, especially whence separated from everything else, repulses us.
Therefore, he’d establish a noble purpose behind his actions or an idealized mission statement: A better life. Fairness. Freedom. A new way to describe morality.
Something like that.
He’d also need to mix and blend his (ahem) “more nefarious” elements with good laws and virtuous edicts. A purely evil ideology is unmarketable, so he’d need to add a few moral laws, too. This is a very old insight, of course: As Shakespeare noted in “The Merchant of Venice,” “the devil can quote Scripture for his own purpose.”
His basic marketing strategy would be to use these good laws as a loss-leader—a moralistic write-off that leaves his audience susceptible to what he really cares about: the proliferation of immoral laws.
Humans have a pretty good ear for identifying lies. Our weakness, however, is with half-truths. Those trip us up all the time.
He’d also try to discredit competing belief systems and negate all other options. Psychologically, people either move towards pleasure or away from pain; smart marketers combine both elements in their messaging. So it wouldn’t just be a positive PR campaign; he’d absolutely go on the attack. Ideologies have always been highly vulnerable to ridicule; it’s their Achilles’ heel. Mockery is a very powerful weapon, and he’d make excellent use of it.
The best way to convince someone to change his beliefs is to offer him a more compelling belief. So he’d need a public face for his movement—someone who can do interviews and help disseminate his messaging. His marketing campaign would focus on contrasts, blurring the lines so completely between good and evil that the target audience would be overwhelmed.
He'd also invest heavily in youth education (and/or indoctrination). He’d try to build barriers that diminish the acceptability of all alternative paths for children, either legally, bureaucratically, or culturally. Nowadays, social media platforms like TikTok would be a slam dunk, and he’d also make excellent use of youth influencers.
The narrative he’d promote is that everything else is evil and wrong (and should probably be banned). His path is the only good one.
Now… is there an actual, physical Devil?
That’s up to you.
But as a thought experiment, reverse-engineering how bad actors might try to manipulate Americans is always a worthwhile endeavor. It helps you prepare for your enemies:
Those of earthy origins... or not.
Join the conversation as a VIP Member