How to Make Your Good Copy Great

Writers love to argue about what makes writing “good.” But until you define what kind of writing you’re talking about – and what goal that writing is meant to achieve – you’re not really saying much.

As copywriters, we’re not writing to impress English teachers. We’re not chasing literary awards or critical acclaim. We’re writing to persuade someone – quickly, clearly, and powerfully – to take a specific action. Sign up. Click. Buy. Say yes.

And in that context, good copy is easy to spot. It’s competent. Clear. It explains the product not by focusing too much on its features, but on emphasizing its benefits. It resolves any doubts about the product that may arise, and it ends by making the offer (the price, the terms, the guarantee, etc.) seem like a good deal.

And finally, and most importantly for direct marketing, good copy should sell a goodly amount of the product or service it is promoting.

So, what about great copy? Is that just good copy that’s a little bit better?

The answer is obviously no.

Great copy doesn’t just sell a lot of product – it sells the idea of the product so persuasively that the prospect not only purchases more of it than he would have otherwise but feels good about it. He feels as if, in buying this product, he’s acquiring other things he values even more – relief, identity, power, control, peace of mind.

That’s my explanation of what great copy does. But what makes it great? What separates it from merely good? And how can one take a good piece of copy and make it great?

I wish I could say that I discovered the difference between good and great copy as a single idea at a single moment in my copywriting career. But the truth is, it was a discovery made piecemeal over more than 30 years of writing copy, critiquing copy, editing copy, and teaching copy.

It turns out that copywriting, like any complicated skill, involves myriad insights, instincts, techniques, strategies, and habits – none of which is hard to understand or learn, but all of which are essential if you want to go from being good to being great.

Along the way, I’ve come to believe that three core principles lie at the heart of truly great copy. And if you want to write copy that consistently moves the needle – copy that transforms a reader into a buyer, and a buyer into a repeat customer – you need to be fluent in all three.

 

A Working Definition of Great Copy 

To understand what makes copy great, we need to be precise about what we mean. Not poetic. Not philosophical. Just clear.

Let’s start here: Good copy does its job. It’s readable. It’s persuasive. It identifies a need or want and presents a solution. It introduces the product, frames the benefits, answers objections, and closes with a solid offer.

You’ve probably written a fair bit of good copy. So have I. It gets results. Sometimes even excellent results.

But then – if you’re lucky – you come across a piece of copy that does something else. It doesn’t just check the boxes. It takes hold of your attention and doesn’t let go. You’re drawn in. You feel something. You want something you didn’t even know you wanted five minutes ago. That’s great copy.

So, what changed?

It’s not just the mechanics. Great copy uses all the same tools as good copy: headlines, leads, bullets, guarantees, calls to action. It still follows the same guidelines – clarity, urgency, specificity, credibility.

But great copy elevates those requirements. It uses them in the service of something bigger. It delivers an emotional charge. It surprises. It offers insight. And most importantly, it convinces the reader that this product (and this idea behind it) is not just useful or valuable – it’s necessary.

That emotional necessity is key. Great copy doesn’t just persuade your intellect. It awakens your imagination. It creates a felt sense that this thing you’re reading about will change your life, even if just a little. It reframes how you see a problem or desire. It introduces an idea that sticks in your head all day.

And behind that emotional pull, you’ll usually find the core elements of great copy: a story the reader can identify with, a sense that a valuable secret is about to be revealed, a believable but powerful promise, compelling evidence to support every claim, and a voice the reader wants to spend time with.

When these elements work together, the result isn’t just attention – it’s transformation. The reader begins to feel understood. He sees himself in the story. He believes the promise. He wants to know the secret. And by the time the close arrives, the sale is no longer a question of logic – it’s a foregone conclusion.

Which raises the obvious question: How?

Over the years, I’ve narrowed my answer down to three principles – three drivers that show up in almost every piece of copy I consider great:

1. An Emotionally Compelling Idea that anchors the message and grabs attention

2. The Rule of One, which gives the copy its laser focus

3. A deliberate Architecture of Persuasion, which guides the reader step-by-step toward action

 

An Emotionally Compelling Idea – the Engine of Great Copy 

In earlier days, I called it the “Big Idea.” That term still has a certain weight. But over time, I’ve come to prefer something more precise: the “Emotionally Compelling Idea.”

It doesn’t have to be “big” in the philosophical sense. It doesn’t have to solve a cultural dilemma or make a sweeping promise. What it must do is feel undeniably attractive to the reader – almost irresistible – from the very first moment it’s introduced.

In great copy, the idea is the gravitational center of the message. And it deserves to be ranked at the very top of the hierarchy. Without a powerful idea, the rest of the copy struggles. With one, everything else aligns.

But here’s the key: What gives the idea its power isn’t just what it says – it’s how it’s said. How it’s framed, how it’s worded, and how it’s timed.

The Emotionally Compelling Idea hits a nerve. It may come disguised as a promise, or a story, or even a secret. But when you strip those elements down to their essence, what you find is an idea – a fresh or surprising way of seeing a familiar problem, or a provocative way of solving it. And when that idea is delivered with emotional resonance, it feels like a revelation.

The prospect doesn’t just hear it – they experience it. They say to themselves: “Yes! That’s exactly what I’ve been missing. That’s what I need.”

And here’s where the promise comes in. A great idea doesn’t stand alone. It contains a promise – sometimes explicitly, sometimes implicitly. It assures the reader that if they keep going, something meaningful will be delivered: relief, clarity, transformation, success.

The idea must also feel like a bit of a secret – that the reader feels they’re being let in on something not everyone knows. It creates a subtle exclusivity. “Here’s the truth nobody told you about…” That dynamic short-circuits resistance and keeps the reader engaged.

And when the idea is wrapped in a story, its emotional charge intensifies. The reader becomes the protagonist. They see themselves in the struggle, feel the tension, and experience the triumph – all before the product is even introduced. That emotional preview builds belief faster than any logic ever could.

But even the strongest idea will fizzle if it lacks durational power. Great copy needs an idea that can do heavy lifting over time – months or even years. It can’t just be a clever hook that works once. It must be capable of anchoring a full promotion, and then a control, and then an entire campaign.

This is what makes great ideas rare. But when they work, they don’t just move product – they create a Tipping Point.

As Malcolm Gladwell described in his book, a Tipping Point occurs when an idea spreads beyond its initial audience and starts to change the broader landscape. I’ve seen this happen in direct response. One great idea, expressed with perfect timing and emotional force, can redefine how people think about a product – or even an entire category.

It sets a new benchmark. Other writers have to answer to it. Prospects begin repeating its phrases. Competitors shift their messaging to match it.

That’s what a truly Emotionally Compelling Idea can do. It doesn’t just persuade. It changes the game.

And finally – none of this matters if the idea is hard to understand. Accessibility is essential. That’s why I use the Flesch-Kincaid scale to test my writing, and why I insist that copy aimed at a mass market reads at a 7.5 grade level or lower.

Writing simply isn’t about dumbing things down. It’s about helping your prospect say “yes” without having to decode your meaning. If your idea is emotionally compelling but buried under abstraction or jargon, it won’t move anyone.

To write great copy, you must learn to take a complex emotional or intellectual idea and express it simply, clearly, and urgently. That’s where craft meets discipline. And that’s where good copy turns into great.

 

The Rule of One 

One of the simplest – and most easily ignored – principles of great copywriting is something we’ve come to call The Rule of One.

At first glance, it might sound limiting. One idea? One reader? One benefit? Shouldn’t persuasive copy try to do more?

But in practice, The Rule of One is what gives a sales message its punch. It creates focus. It sharpens the emotional core of the offer. And it eliminates the fatal distractions that kill so many otherwise promising promotions.

When you’re writing copy that’s meant to sell, the worst thing you can do is try to cram in every possible selling point or, worse, try to speak to “everyone.” You end up with a flabby, wandering pitch that means something to no one.

Great copy always feels personal and urgent. That only happens when the message is designed with a single reader in mind. Not a demographic or persona, but a vivid, specific individual. Someone you know – or feel like you know – and whose desires, fears, and dreams you understand deeply. That imagined intimacy forces the copy to speak clearly, emotionally, and directly.

Likewise, the copy should be built around one dominant idea – an Emotionally Compelling Idea that powers the whole message. That’s the idea you must sell before you can sell the product. It should be simple enough to say in one sentence and strong enough to trigger an almost subconscious “yes” response.

And finally, you want one overwhelming promise – a core benefit the prospect can’t ignore. Yes, your product may have ten great features. But your reader can’t hold all that in his mind at once. So give him one thing to desire above all else. If your copy is persuasive, he’ll believe the rest will follow.

There’s one more element worth adding – because it’s often overlooked: Great copy makes its case one argument at a time. Not in parallel, but in sequence. It builds like a story, with each sentence supporting the last and preparing the reader for the next. That’s how you move a prospect logically and emotionally toward the sale – by stacking belief on belief, not by throwing everything against the wall and hoping something sticks.

The Rule of One does not mean you’re limited to only one claim or one piece of evidence. You can have supporting facts, stories, comparisons, demonstrations, and testimonials. But they must all serve one central thesis. And they must be deployed with narrative discipline: no tangents, no lists of disconnected claims, no copy that reads like a catalog.

Every paragraph should do one thing. Then the next paragraph does the next thing. And so on.

Great copy builds layer after layer of persuasive power around a single emotionally charged core. And it leads the reader along a straight, purposeful line – never in circles and never in scattershot bursts.

When you follow The Rule of One, you create copy that’s not just tighter and stronger – but dramatically more effective.

The Architecture of Persuasion 

Great copy doesn’t just talk – it moves. And it doesn’t move in circles or digressions. It moves forward, in a straight persuasive line, from curiosity to belief to action. That’s the job of persuasive structure.

You can call it the persuasive journey. Or the flow of emotional logic. I like to call it The Architecture of Persuasion. Because like a well-designed building, great copy has bones. There’s a frame holding it up, a foundation keeping it stable, and a sequence that determines how the reader moves through the message.

And when it’s done well, the reader doesn’t even notice the structure. He just keeps reading – and ends up buying.

The Persuasive Journey: A Proven Flow 

Many copywriters are taught the classic AIDA formula: Attention, Interest, Desire, Action. It’s a useful shorthand. But in real-world direct response, the path is usually more layered. Here’s the structure I’ve seen in most of the best-performing promotions of the last 40 years:

1. The Hook 
You have seconds – sometimes less – to grab attention. So the opening must hook. What makes a hook work isn’t its format, but its effect. It could be a bold promise, a surprising fact, a provocative question, a compelling story, or even the offer itself. The key is that it stops the reader cold and compels him to keep going.

2. The Problem or Opportunity 
This is the emotional setup. What’s at stake? What’s the reader suffering from – or about to miss out on? This doesn’t always have to be framed as a problem. In many successful promotions, it’s an opportunity: a breakthrough, a shortcut, a new path to something the reader wants. The point is to stir emotion and create a sense of need or possibility.

3. The Emotionally Compelling Idea (the Insight) 
This is the “Aha” moment – the turning point. A new way of seeing the problem, or a hidden truth behind the opportunity. It often comes as a fresh articulation of something the reader has felt but never put into words. It lands with emotional and intellectual force. He thinks: “Yes! That’s exactly it.”

This is also where the core idea lives – the gravitational center of the entire promotion. It must be simple, striking, and worded in a way that makes it feel new, true, and deeply relevant.

4. The Solution or Offer 
Once the reader believes the problem or opportunity is real – and that the idea behind it makes sense – you present your product as the next logical step. If you began with a problem, this is the solution. If you began with an opportunity, this is how the reader takes advantage of it. In either case, the product must feel inevitable.

5. Proof 
Now you must substantiate your claims. This is where credibility is built. The types of proof vary:
* Factual Proof – data, studies, historical precedent
* Expert Proof– endorsements, credentials, authority quotes
* Social Proof – testimonials, user ratings, mass adoption
* Demonstrative Proof – show how it works; side-by-side comparisons

Each type of proof supports different kinds of claims. The best copy uses multiple types, layered and sequenced strategically.

6. Overcoming Objections 
Before you close, you must address the reader’s hesitations. What doubts remain? What silent objections are holding him back? Address them directly. Acknowledge them empathetically. And answer them persuasively.

This can be done through FAQs, guarantees, logic, story, or even tonal voice. The key is to make the reader feel understood and reassured.

7. The False Close 
Here, you recap everything the reader is about to get. You begin to wind down the pitch – but instead of asking for the order, you surprise the reader with something extra: a new benefit, a bonus, or a hidden feature.

Ideally, this extra has a perceived value equal to or greater than the price you’re about to ask. I call this the “liquidating benefit” because it liquidates the cost in the reader’s mind. It makes the offer feel irresistible.

8. The Final Close 
Now you ask for the order. But you do it carefully and completely. This section includes:
* A restatement of the core promise and key benefits
* A reminder of the liquidating bonus
* The guarantee (risk reversal)
* And a final reason to act now (urgency, scarcity, or time-sensitive reward)

And finally, of course, the call to action – plus (in a print ad or mailed offer) the order form itself.
Flow and Transitions 

The best copy feels frictionless. The reader never wonders “Why am I reading this?” or “Where is this going?” That smooth flow doesn’t happen by accident – it’s built into the structure.
Transitions are the glue. Each section should point to the next. Each paragraph should set up the one that follows. When the rhythm is right, the reader is carried forward.

Most of the time, when a piece of copy feels clunky or hard to follow, it’s not the writing – it’s the architecture.

Common Pitfalls 

* Presenting too much at once – parallel instead of sequential persuasion
* Asking for the sale too early
* Ignoring objections or assuming belief
* Overloading features without emotional framing

Structure Is Freedom 

Some writers fear that structure is formulaic. But the best copywriters know the opposite is true. Structure liberates your creativity. It gives you confidence that the message will land.

When you understand The Architecture of Persuasion, you stop writing aimlessly. You write with purpose. And your reader doesn’t just read – he responds.

The Interplay 

We’ve covered the three principles that separate good copy from great:

* An Emotionally Compelling Idea
* The Rule of One
* The Architecture of Persuasion

The Emotionally Compelling Idea is the engine that drives the copy. It’s not just any idea – it’s one that strikes the reader emotionally and instantly feels relevant. It makes him want to keep reading. This is where five additional elements come into play in whatever form best serves the piece.

1. A Well-Told Story 

Story brings everything to life. It humanizes the problem, dramatizes the benefit, and keeps the reader emotionally engaged. It often delivers the idea, demonstrates the solution, or even acts as the proof. A good story isn’t just entertainment – it’s structure in disguise.

2. A Powerful Secret 

Great copy often hinges on the promise of revelation. A secret gives your copy tension, intrigue, and emotional pull. It can take many forms: a hidden truth, a forgotten principle, a newly discovered method. The key is that it feels exclusive – like something the reader is lucky to be learning.

3. A Persuasive Promise 

A strong promise gives the reader something to want. It’s the expression of your core benefit – and it must be simple, bold, and believable. It focuses the copy and aligns with The Rule of One. A vague or weak promise kills persuasion. A clear and emotionally satisfying one can carry the entire piece.

4. Convincing Proof 

You must support every major claim with proof. But not all proof is created equal:
* Use factual proof when logic is needed.
* Use expert proof when authority matters.
* Use social proof when trust is lacking.
* Use demonstrative proof when the product’s advantage is visible.

Great copy selects the right kind of proof at the right moment – and layers it for effect.

5. An Authentic Voice 

Voice is what makes the reader stay. It’s the human quality in your copy – the tone, rhythm, and personality that makes it sound real. Voice builds trust, reinforces the message, and makes the emotional beats land. Without voice, even strong copy can feel flat or artificial.

These elements don’t live in separate compartments. They work together.

* The idea often arrives through a story.
* The secret is embedded in the idea.
* The promise is born from the idea and supported by proof.
* The voice binds it all into something fluid and believable.

The more fluently you can blend them, the more persuasive and powerful your copy becomes.

Final Thoughts: Practice, Iterate, Master

The best copywriters don’t write great copy by accident. They build it, using all of the above elements, again and again, until it becomes instinctive.

Study them. Practice them. Use them deliberately. You’ll stop writing decent copy, and start producing promotions that pull harder, convert better, and stand the test of time.

COVID Part Two: Why I Trusted the Vaccine – and Why I Changed My Mind 

When the COVID-19 vaccines were first announced, I was relieved. Grateful, even. After months of global panic, lockdowns, and conflicting expert opinions, the vaccines seemed to offer what we all desperately wanted: a way out.

I wasn’t a “vaccine enthusiast,” but I wasn’t skeptical either. Like most people, I grew up accepting that vaccines were part of what made modern medicine so successful. Polio, smallpox, measles – these had been deadly diseases until vaccines helped bring them under control or, in some cases, eradicate them. I got my flu shot most years. I had my childhood immunizations. And when COVID arrived, I watched with interest, not suspicion, as companies raced to develop a new kind of vaccine for a novel virus.

I followed the early news: the record-breaking speed of development, the glowing headlines about efficacy – “95% effective” said one press release after another. I also noticed how quickly the idea of “herd immunity” became associated with getting a shot. Protect yourself. Protect others. Return to normal. The appeal was hard to ignore.

By the time the vaccines were available to the public, I had made up my mind. I got my first shot in the spring of 2021 and followed up with the second dose a few weeks later. I didn’t do it because I was worried about dying from COVID. Based on what I had already read about the virus and my personal risk factors, I wasn’t especially concerned about that. I got the vaccine because I believed it was safe, effective, and the responsible thing to do.

And then – shortly after my second dose – I had a stroke.

It came without warning. No history of strokes, no family predisposition, no red flags. I had a blockage in my left carotid artery. I was lucky to survive. I was even luckier to recover most of my faculties. But as I lay in the hospital bed, the question kept looping through my mind: Could the vaccine have caused this?

Doctors were careful not to speculate. And I didn’t want to jump to conclusions. But I also couldn’t ignore the timeline. I had been healthy. Then, within days of my second dose, I wasn’t. That was the beginning of my doubts.

In the months that followed, I began to look more seriously into claims being made about the vaccines: that they stopped transmission, that they were “safe and effective” for nearly everyone, and that side effects were “exceedingly rare.”

I read everything I could get my hands on, including newspaper articles, magazine stories, precis from scientific journals, and reports from about a dozen doctors and scientists that were skeptical of the claims mentioned above.

I was reading six or eight pieces a day and filing under in the obvious categories: safety, effectiveness, government announcements and proclamations, and media coverage. Initially (and understandably) most of what I was reading were positive reports from the government, the legacy media, and the pharmaceutical industry. But as the weeks and months passed, I was reading some worrisome reports that contradicted the official narrative.

Increasingly, evidence was emerging that the vaccines were not nearly as effective as claimed at both reducing the chance of contracting COVID and reducing its infectiousness.

It soon became clear that the vaccines had become a political issue, with one side arguing that they were not only safe and effective but also necessary to keep the total count of deaths down.

And then I noticed a new tactic on the part of those that supported mass vaccinations. Dissenting voices were being shamed, silenced, and censored.

Caution was equated with selfishness. Uncertainty was rebranded as “misinformation.” And ordinary people – like me – who had experienced something unexpected or wanted to ask questions were treated as a problem to be managed rather than as participants in a shared search for truth.

This essay is not an anti-vaccine rant. It’s not a conspiracy manifesto. It’s also not a medical treatise. I’m not a virologist, and I don’t pretend to be one. I’m a writer. I try to pay attention. I try to be honest about what I see and what I learn. And what I’ve seen, since 2021, has forced me to reconsider nearly everything I thought I understood about modern medicine, public health, government messaging, and risk.

As you may recall, Part One of this monograph was about the virus itself – how early reporting, flawed assumptions, and poor communication distorted our understanding of the COVID-19 threat.

This second part will be about the vaccines. A fact-based look at what we were told about them, how that differed from what was being said, how this campaign of disinformation came about to validate them, and why.

It begins with my own story. But it doesn’t end there.

Chapter 1. The Promise: Safe, Effective, and Our Best Hope 

In late 2020 and early 2021, the message from government agencies, pharmaceutical companies, and the media was remarkably consistent: The COVID-19 vaccines were not just a medical breakthrough. They were a miracle.

The language was bold and reassuring. The vaccines, we were told, were “safe and effective.” They would protect individuals from contracting COVID-19. They would help prevent the spread of the virus to others. They would end the pandemic and allow society to return to normal life.

Dr. Anthony Fauci, head of the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases (NIAID), declared in December 2020 that the vaccines were “extraordinarily effective.” President-elect Joe Biden promised that mass vaccination would lead to “a future that is brighter.” Leading media outlets ran headlines like:

* “Pfizer and Moderna Vaccines 95% Effective, Early Data Show” (New York Times, Nov. 2020)

* “Vaccines Are the Fastest Way Back to Normal” (Washington Post, Jan. 2021)

* “Experts Agree: Vaccines Will End the Pandemic” (CNN, Feb. 2021)

Public health campaigns emphasized urgency. Commercials and public service announcements encouraged people to get vaccinated not just for themselves but for their families, their communities, and the country. Slogans like Get Vaccinated: Do Your Part and One Shot Closer to Normal appeared on buses, billboards, and television screens.

The initial rollout strategy relied heavily on these ideas:

* Effectiveness: Clinical trials reported very high efficacy against symptomatic COVID-19 – about 95% for Pfizer-BioNTech and 94.1% for Moderna.

* Safety: Side effects were portrayed as minor and short-lived – sore arms, mild fever, fatigue.

* Social Responsibility: Getting vaccinated was framed as an act of altruism, protecting the vulnerable and hastening the end of lockdowns.

For many, including me, this messaging seemed credible. The vaccines had been reviewed by the FDA under Emergency Use Authorization (EUA), which suggested a degree of rigorous evaluation. We were told that no steps had been skipped in the development and testing process, despite the unprecedented speed of production.

Operation Warp Speed, launched by the Trump administration, was praised for facilitating rapid development without compromising safety protocols. Scientists and regulators appeared together at press conferences, offering assurances that the vaccines were the product of decades of prior research into mRNA technology, not something invented overnight.

Moreover, the numbers appeared persuasive. Early data suggested that vaccinated individuals were far less likely to be hospitalized or die from COVID-19. That was powerful reassurance, especially for older adults and those with pre-existing conditions.

In this context, choosing to get vaccinated felt both prudent and civic-minded. It wasn’t a political decision – at least, not yet. It was simply common sense based on the best available evidence. The promise was clear:

* The vaccine would protect me.
* It would help protect others.
* It would speed the return to normal life.

And there was little public discussion – at least at first – about possible downsides. Serious adverse effects were said to be vanishingly rare. Long-term risks were dismissed with statements like “there is no biological reason to expect problems down the line.” In effect, the public was encouraged to think of the vaccines as if they were seatbelts: overwhelmingly safe, smart, and essential.

Few paused to ask whether the early clinical trials, which lasted only a few months, could truly reveal long-term outcomes.

Fewer still pointed out that Emergency Use Authorization, by its very nature, involved a gamble – a calculated risk based on incomplete data.

Looking back, it’s clear that much of the public’s trust – my trust – was built not just on scientific claims, but on the certainty with which those claims were delivered. The tone was emphatic, the confidence absolute.

There was little room for nuance.

No admission that we might discover problems later.

No acknowledgment that a novel technology (mRNA vaccines) being deployed at global scale for the first time might hold unknown risks.

Those doubts, where they existed, were kept far from the public conversation. Instead, the promise was repeated, louder and more frequently.

And for a time, I, like millions of others, believed it.

Chapter 2. The Cracks Begin to Show

For a while, it seemed like the vaccines were living up to the hype. Case numbers fell. Hospitalizations dropped. People started traveling again, gathering again, living again.

But by the summer of 2021, reports started trickling in that fully vaccinated people were still catching COVID. The term “breakthrough case” became part of the public vocabulary.

At first, these cases were described as rare exceptions – statistical outliers that didn’t undermine the overall promise.

Breakthrough infections are exceedingly rare,” CDC Director Dr. Rochelle Walensky said in an April 27, 2021 interview. “The vaccines are working.”

But the numbers told a different story.

In July 2021, an outbreak in Provincetown, Massachusetts, made headlines: Nearly three-quarters of the COVID cases linked to crowded July 4th festivities occurred among the fully vaccinated. A CDC report published on July 30, 2021 (MMWR Weekly) acknowledged the findings and quietly revised its internal guidance, noting that vaccinated individuals could transmit the virus.

The messaging shifted almost overnight.

Instead of promising prevention of infection, the authorities now emphasized protection against severe disease.

Dr. Fauci, in an interview on Meet the Press (Aug. 1, 2021), said: “The vaccines are doing what we intended them to do – to prevent severe disease, hospitalization, and death.”

That was a significant change. But rather than admit that public expectations had been set too high, officials largely framed the pivot as a natural evolution of science.

Critics noticed. Dr. Marty Makary of Johns Hopkins wrote in The Wall Street Journal on Aug. 2, 2021:

“Public health officials owe the public an honest accounting of vaccine limitations. Pretending that breakthrough infections are insignificant does more harm than good.”

Meanwhile, concern over vaccine side effects was building.

On April 13, 2021, the CDC and FDA recommended a nationwide “pause” in the use of Johnson & Johnson’s vaccine after reports of six cases of a rare blood-clotting disorder, cerebral venous sinus thrombosis (CVST), among women aged 18 to 48.

Though six cases may seem small, they occurred among 6.8 million doses administered – enough to warrant alarm.

The pause was lifted after 10 days, but trust, once shaken, wasn’t easily repaired.

Even more concerning was the emerging data on myocarditis and pericarditis – inflammation of the heart muscle or surrounding tissue – especially among younger males following mRNA vaccination.

In June 2021, the CDC’s Advisory Committee on Immunization Practices (ACIP) acknowledged the connection.

The CDC reported 1,226 cases of myocarditis or pericarditis among people aged 16 to 24 after mRNA vaccination – substantially higher than the expected background rate.

A joint statement by the CDC and HHS described the risk as “extremely rare,” but the agency updated its vaccine fact sheets to include warnings about myocarditis and pericarditis, particularly after the second dose.

Dr. Vinay Prasad, a hematologist-oncologist and professor at the University of California, San Francisco, was among early skeptics. He wrote in MedPage Today (June 28, 2021):

“Young men have a non-trivial risk of vaccine-associated myocarditis. The CDC should be clearer about that risk and let people make informed decisions.”

Similarly, the British Joint Committee on Vaccination and Immunization (JCVI) took a more cautious approach. In Sept. 2021, the JCVI advised against vaccinating healthy 12- to 15-year-olds with mRNA shots, citing the low risk of serious illness from COVID and the emerging myocarditis data.

It was a rare public break from the American approach.

Meanwhile, new studies complicated the case for durable vaccine protection.

A Qatar-based study published in The New England Journal of Medicine in Oct. 2021 showed that vaccine effectiveness against symptomatic infection from the Delta variant declined sharply over time, falling to as low as 20% by six months post-vaccination. Protection against severe disease remained high – but the notion of lasting immunity against infection was effectively debunked.

The Israeli Ministry of Health reported similar findings as early as July 2021: Among fully vaccinated individuals over 60, effectiveness against infection had dropped to 39%.

Israel, once a model for global vaccination success, responded by launching the world’s first booster campaign in August 2021 – just eight months after its initial vaccine rollout.

Yet here in the US, booster discussions initially faced resistance. Officials worried that talking about waning effectiveness might fuel vaccine hesitancy.

Dr. Paul Offit, director of the Vaccine Education Center at Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia, warned:

“The perception is going to be that the vaccines are failing. They’re not failing. Protection against severe disease is holding.”

Maybe so.

But the public had been promised something closer to immunity – not merely an insurance policy against hospitalization.

All the while, questions about serious side effects persisted – not just myocarditis, but also reports of Guillain-Barré syndrome (linked to Johnson & Johnson’s vaccine), thrombocytopenia, and severe allergic reactions.

Authorities continued to insist that the benefits outweighed the risks, which for most people was probably true. But by now, it was impossible to deny:

* The vaccines didn’t reliably prevent infection.
* They didn’t reliably prevent transmission.
* They carried real risks – especially for specific demographic groups.

Still, the public messaging didn’t shift to match the evidence.

Mandates were introduced across workplaces, schools, and travel industries as if the original story still held up intact. Slogans like Get Vaccinated to Stop the Spread were still everywhere – long after it was clear that vaccinated individuals could and did spread the virus.

Dr. Jay Bhattacharya, a Stanford epidemiologist and co-author of the Great Barrington Declaration, summarized the situation bluntly in a Newsweek op-ed (Nov. 2021):

“The public health establishment made promises it could not keep. And when reality diverged from the script, they chose to deny, downplay, and demonize those who raised legitimate concerns.”

None of this meant the vaccines were worthless. They may have saved many lives among the elderly, the obese, and those with serious underlying conditions – which was obvious to anyone following the studies (like me) from the very first few months!

But they weren’t even remotely the miracle we were sold in late 2020. And worse – it was now clear that they came with serious and possibly life-threatening risks.

For people like me, who trusted the original promise, it was becoming harder and harder to square what we had been told with what we were now seeing.

The cracks weren’t just surface flaws anymore.

They were running deep.

Chapter 3. The Shift: From Science to Politics 

It’s hard to pinpoint exactly when COVID vaccination moved from being a scientific question to a political wedge. But sometime in the fall of 2021, it was pretty clear to me that vaccination status was no longer so much about public health, but about allegiance, morality, even virtue.

I admit, the early signals were not obvious – at least to those that were not habituated to following the story. When vaccines were first rolled out in Dec. 2020, the only dubious essays I was reading were coming from a handful of doctors and scientists I’d never heard of.

The CDC and other government agencies were holding fast to their original, pro-vaccine (and even pro-mandatory-vaccine) stance. And political leaders across the divide (except for Rand Paul) were united in encouraging people to get vaccinated.

Although it was clear to me that then-President Donald Trump was dubious about the severity of the COVID virus and the need for vaccines, he decided to get on board and put Operation Warp Speed into action, which did, indeed, fast-forward the production of the vaccines.

On Dec. 21, 2020, President-elect Joe Biden got his first jab of the vaccine on television, telling Americans, “There’s nothing to worry about.”

And Dr. Fauci, appearing alongside Biden, described the vaccines as “an historic scientific achievement.”

Notwithstanding my own doubts, I was hopeful that somehow this near unity on the necessity for widespread vaccination might transcend intense polarization that had already defined American life.

But that didn’t happen.

In March 2021, the Biden administration announced a national goal of vaccinating 70% of American adults by July 4.

Initially, the effort leaned on persuasion. But when it became clear that millions were hesitant – especially younger adults, minorities, and conservative rural populations – the tone began to harden.

Public health messaging started to frame vaccination not just as a smart choice, but as a moral obligation. People who expressed doubts were increasingly described as selfish, ignorant, or worse.

On July 16, 2021, President Biden announced that that “The only pandemic we have is among the unvaccinated.”

And Dr. Walensky magnified the sentiment with a statement that became a rallying call for pro-vaccine Americans:

“This is becoming a pandemic of the unvaccinated.”

The phrase was everywhere – on television, in newspapers, in online forums.

But it wasn’t accurate.

As early as May 2021, a study out of Israel had shown that vaccinated individuals could still contract and transmit the virus – particularly as the Delta variant spread.

Later studies, including a UK report from Public Health England (Aug. 6, 2021), confirmed that while vaccination reduced the risk of severe illness, it did not fully prevent transmission.

In other words, the vaccinated could still catch COVID – and still spread it to others.

But by then, the political momentum had already shifted too far.

Vaccine mandates began rolling out across the country.

On Sept. 9, 2021, President Biden announced sweeping new requirements:

* All businesses with 100 or more employees were required to “mandate” vaccines or weekly testing.

* Federal employees and contractors must be vaccinated, with no testing option.

* Healthcare workers in facilities receiving Medicare or Medicaid funding had to be vaccinated.

“We’ve been patient, but our patience is wearing thin,” Biden said in his announcement. “And your refusal has cost all of us.”

It was a remarkable moment.

The US government was now openly coercing private citizens to accept a medical intervention –or face loss of employment, income, and public standing.

At the same time, social pressure intensified.

Major corporations, universities, and sports leagues rushed to implement their own vaccine mandates. Airlines began requiring proof of vaccination for staff. Some cities, like New York and San Francisco, instituted vaccine passport systems for indoor dining, gyms, and theaters.

If you were unvaccinated, life became difficult – by design.

Mainstream media coverage reinforced the message. Unvaccinated individuals were routinely portrayed as reckless threats to public safety.

CNN anchor Don Lemon declared on Aug. 2, 2021: “Don’t have a vaccine? Don’t go to the hospital when you get sick.”

And MSNBC’s favorite birdbrain, Joy Reid, said on Aug. 23, 2021: “It’s time to start blaming the unvaccinated folks.”

The rhetoric expanded across most of the developed world. In Jan. 2022, French President Emmanuel Macron proudly stated, “I really want to piss off the unvaccinated.”

Critics of this approach warned that turning public health into a political weapon would backfire.

Dr. Jay Bhattacharya wrote (Oct. 2021):

“Public health depends on trust. Once you politicize it, you lose that trust – and it’s very hard to get it back.”

And for a time, the strategy seemed to work. Vaccination rates rose. Corporations, government agencies, and universities all reported higher compliance after mandates were put in place.

But something deeper was happening too.

The definition of “vaccinated” began to shift.

Originally, it meant two doses of Pfizer or Moderna or one dose of Johnson & Johnson.

But by late 2021, as booster campaigns ramped up, officials suggested that “fully vaccinated” would soon mean three shots.

Dr. Fauci said in an interview on CNN (Nov. 21, 2021):

“I would not be surprised at all if ‘fully vaccinated’ will mean three doses.”

This moving target frustrated many who had gotten vaccinated in good faith – and alarmed those who had complied only under pressure.

Meanwhile, censorship of dissenting views accelerated.

Social media platforms like Twitter, Facebook, and YouTube cracked down on vaccine-related “misinformation.”

Sometimes that meant removing obvious falsehoods. But often it meant suppressing legitimate debates – about vaccine mandates, side effects, natural immunity, and policy trade-offs.

For example:

* In July 2021, YouTube removed videos from Sen. Rand Paul questioning the effectiveness of cloth masks.

* In Oct. 2021, Twitter suspended the account of Dr. Robert Malone, one of the early pioneers of mRNA vaccine technology, after he raised concerns about risks associated with the COVID vaccines.

The message was clear: Disagreement, even from credentialed scientists and physicians, would not be tolerated.

I was listening to this and thinking, “Isn’t the core of science open inquiry? Asking questions – including unpopular ones – and then doing reliable tests to answer them?”

In the rush to promote vaccination, officials and media figures often portrayed any questioning of vaccine policy as anti-science, anti-vaccine, or even anti-American.

But the issues were far more nuanced.

By that time a sizeable contrarian conversation had begun among the skeptics and even among the moderates. They were asking what seemed to me very reasonable questions:

* How long does vaccine-induced immunity last?

* What are the real risks of myocarditis for young men?

* Should natural immunity from prior infection be considered equivalent to vaccination?

* How much should individual risk profiles shape vaccine recommendations?

But instead of treating them scientifically, the establishment was refuting them out of hand. These were conspiracy theories, they were saying.

And it wasn’t just establishment figures. It was now the argument of half the country. This critically important scientific issue had become almost entirely political. It was furthering the divide not just among scientists and doctors, but among ordinary Americans – even within friendship groups and families.

Chapter 4. Emerging Evidence: Safety Signals and Scientific Dissent 

While the public messaging around COVID vaccines continued to insist that they were not just safe and effective but essential, the evidence against it within the scientific and medical communities was piling up.

Myocarditis and Pericarditis 

The first major red flag was myocarditis.

By June 2021, the CDC had confirmed an elevated risk of myocarditis and pericarditis – especially among young males aged 16 to 24 – following the second dose of mRNA vaccines (Pfizer and Moderna).

The advisory panel’s June 23 meeting laid out the numbers plainly:

* Among males aged 12 to 17, there were 62.8 cases per million second doses – far higher than expected background rates.

* For males aged 18 to 24, the rate was slightly lower but still concerning: 50.5 cases per million.

These numbers came from CDC’s own Vaccine Adverse Event Reporting System (VAERS) and later confirmed through more detailed studies. Dr. Tom Shimabukuro, head of the CDC’s vaccine safety team, admitted that “There does appear to be a likely association of myocarditis with mRNA vaccination.”

Young men who developed chest pain, difficulty breathing, or palpitations were advised to seek immediate medical attention – but the official narrative was that incidents of myocarditis and pericarditis were rare and mild.

This was a lie. And every cardiologist knew it. Or should have known it. But 95% of the Health Industrial Complex and most journalists reporting on health hardly mentioned it. And when they did, they echoed the lie.

There were a few brave exceptions.

In the June 2021 issue of MedPage Today, Dr. Vinay Prasad wrote:

“Myocarditis is not always benign. There are long-term risks, including arrhythmias and sudden cardiac death. We need honest risk-benefit discussions, especially for low-risk groups like adolescents.”

In August that year, a study published in JAMA Cardiology found that myocarditis after mRNA vaccination had a median onset of just two to three days post-injection, with clinical presentations ranging from chest pain to heart failure symptoms. And that MRI scans often revealed lasting inflammation weeks after hospitalization.

Still, the CDC and FDA continued to publicly pronounce the vaccines as safe and effective. (For the most part, they still do today!)

Blood-Clotting Disorders 

Reports on the Johnson & Johnson vaccine (and AstraZeneca’s vaccine abroad) raised a different concern – blood-clotting disorders.

And then came credible reports of “cerebral venous sinus thrombosis (CVST) combined with low platelet counts – a condition later labeled Vaccine-Induced Thrombotic Thrombocytopenia (VITT).

And a few weeks earlier, the European Medicines Agency (EMA) identified a similar pattern with the AstraZeneca vaccine.

Ultimately, the regulators acknowledged a causal link between adenoviral vector vaccines and clotting disorders – particularly in women under 50.

The risk was small – estimated around 7 cases per million vaccinations – but it wasn’t nonexistent.

By Dec. 2021, the CDC recommended that Americans opt for mRNA vaccines (Pfizer or Moderna) over Johnson & Johnson whenever possible – a quiet admission that not all vaccines carried the same safety profile.

VAERS Data and Underreporting Concerns 

Meanwhile, the US Vaccine Adverse Event Reporting System (VAERS) – a database co-managed by the CDC and FDA – began accumulating an unprecedented number of negative reports on the after-effects of the vaccines.

In fact, by mid-2021, VAERS had received over 400,000 reports related to COVID vaccines, including deaths, hospitalizations, and serious adverse events. And by the end of 2021, that number would rise to more than 700,000.

Note: It’s important to understand that VAERS reports are not proof of causality. Anyone can submit a report. Some reports are incomplete or unverified. But historically, VAERS has been viewed as a useful early warning system for potential safety signals.

Critics such as Dr. Peter McCullough, an internist and cardiologist, argued that the sheer volume and nature of the reports should have triggered more formal investigations. In a presentation to the Texas Senate Health and Human Services Committee (June 27, 2021), McCullough stated:

“In the past, when we had fifty unexplained deaths following a vaccine, we would pull it off the market. Here, we have thousands.”

Note: The actual numbers of negative reports were probably much higher. That’s because VAERS had traditionally suffered from systematic underreporting.

A famous 2010 report commissioned by the US Department of Health and Human Services (HHS) and conducted by Harvard Pilgrim Healthcare found that “Fewer than 1% of vaccine adverse events are reported to VAERS.”

As the number of vaccine skeptics grew, so did efforts by the government, the Dems, and the Health Industrial Complex to discredit them as “conspiracy theorists.”

Some examples:

* Dr. Robert Malone, a pioneer of mRNA technology, was banned from Twitter in Dec. 2021 after questioning vaccine safety and efficacy.

* Dr. Jessica Rose, a Canadian immunologist who published analyses of VAERS data showing elevated risks of myocarditis, found her work removed from preprint servers and rejected by mainstream journals.

* The Great Barrington Declaration authors – Dr. Jay Bhattacharya (Stanford), Dr. Sunetra Gupta (Oxford), and Dr. Martin Kulldorff (Harvard) – who had earlier criticized lockdown policies, were increasingly lumped into the “misinformation” category despite impressive academic credentials.

Rather than engage with these critics in open debate, public health institutions – and many media outlets – chose to silence or sideline them.

Dr. Bhattacharya later described it this way in an interview with The Epoch Times (Feb. 2022): “They decided that it was better to manipulate public opinion than to have an honest scientific discussion.”

What’s Worse 

It was bad enough that the government and the mainstream media were selling a narrative that was largely untrue, but they then began promoting the completely absurd idea that the administration of vaccines should include large portions of the population for whom contracting the virus was no more dangerous than getting the flu.

By this time, it was already widely accepted that the virus was seriously dangerous to only two segments of the American population: very old people and obese people suffering from comorbidities (primarily diabetes).

I remember writing about this back then. There were already charts available that provided the lethality of the virus by age and sex. And it was clear that healthy people – even middle-aged people – had very little risk of getting very sick, and younger people (younger than 30) had virtually zero risk.

Yet the advice coming out of the CDC and NIH was for every age group, every health status.

By late 2021, the evidence pointed to a reality that was very different from the mainstream narrative.

We knew back then that the vaccines were responsible for elevated risks of myocarditis for young men and rare but nonetheless serious clotting disorders.

Furthermore, there was a growing suspicion among vaccine skeptic researchers that they were also responsible for many other heart-related illnesses and even something they were calling “turbo” cancers. (Cancers appearing at late stages among healthy young people.)

It was a binary of bad factors:

* A surveillance system showing an unprecedented volume of adverse event reports, and…

* The suppression of scientific dissent and open debate.

Here’s the thing that bothers me. It would have been very easy for government health officials to adjust their messaging. They could have acknowledged the complexities. They could have treated adults like adults – capable of weighing benefits and risks based on their individual situations.

Instead, they doubled down on their promotions and policies.