I’m generally a positive fellow. I cheer on habitually disappointing sports teams. I follow the same lasagne recipe again and again in the belief that this time it won’t come out looking like a man made entirely from sick has just been sick on some different sick. Even if I encountered a polar bear I would probably assume he was one of those jovial, Coca-Cola corporate ambassador bears rather than one of those other bite-off-your-skull bears.
But, despite my blithely hopeful bearing, I often find it hard to answer a copy brief that calls for a forcibly positive outlook. It’s a lot like being asked to write something funny, or sombre or (retch) quirky or any entirely subjective, elusive human characteristic.
When it’s done poorly, positive copy can seem shouty and aggressive, like a ferocious PE teacher bellowing flecks of poorly chewed pork pie into your face as he insists you must ‘do better’. Alternatively, it can come across as smug and exhausting, like an irritating friend who encourages you to take up their latest life-altering fad, knowing quite well that you’d rather extract your own teeth with a rusty soup tin.
