THE INFLUENCE COMPANY —
Masterplan Background
By Tony Tong

Stop Betting on Garbage: From Algorithmic Noise to Human Connection

Stop Betting on Garbage: From Algorithmic Noise to Human Connection

I used to think that marketing was a math problem—stack up enough ad variations, crank the DCO engine, and the algorithm would eventually puke out a winner. But then I watched ten million impressions vanish into thin air. Sales stayed flat. My ads felt like confetti in a hurricane: colorful, noisy… and completely ignored.

That's when I realized: you can't mine gold from garbage. You can flood the sky with fireworks, but if no one cares to look up, what's the point?


The Night I Lost Faith in "Spin the Wheel" Ads

It was 11pm on a Wednesday when I finally gave up. I'd launched thirty "perfectly optimized" pieces of creative for a sleek new power bank—headlines, thumbnails, CTAs, every permutation imaginable. DCO assured me it was a statistical jackpot. My team braced for the usual thrill of watching dashboards spike.

But nothing spiked. The graphs were flat lines drenched in red. We had impressions by the millions, yet nobody paused long enough to feel anything.

I remember staring at the screen and asking myself: Why did I think sheer volume could replace real connection?


What Happens When You Treat Humans Like Machines

In the trenches of ad ops, it's easy to become enamored with data. Clicks, views, conversion rates—they feel like control knobs you can twist to perfection. But data tells you what happened. It rarely tells you why.

Real people aren't a spreadsheet. Behind every scroll is a heartbeat, a fleeting hope, a twinge of curiosity. Here's what psychology teaches us:

  • Curiosity hooks survive in the memory longer than the punchiest headline.
  • Social proof isn't a badge you can slap on an ad; it's the echo of a friend whispering "this works."
  • Scarcity isn't just a countdown timer—it's the gut-twist of missing out.

When you ignore those invisible levers, you end up chasing clicks instead of crafting moments. And empty clicks can't build a brand.


Catalyst: Our Human-Centered Laboratory

We needed a new way. So we built Catalyst, not as another algorithm, but as an experiment in empathy. Think of it as a radar for understanding the human heart—a system that listens for the subtle signals of why someone stops scrolling, why they hesitate, why they click.

We treated every ad like a miniature psychology study:

  1. Form a hypothesis: "Moms juggling midnight feeds feel real anxiety when their phone dies."
  2. Craft a trigger: A three-second scene of a crying infant… then a dying battery icon.
  3. Deploy at scale, but measure more than clicks—watch replay rates, comment sentiment, scroll-depth.
  4. Iterate with intent: Scrap the versions that feel flat. Double down on the ones that spark a tiny gasp.

What we were really doing was structured empathy—taking fuzzy human motivations and transforming them into testable psychological hypotheses. Suddenly, our numbers moved. But more importantly, we saw real human reactions—comments like "That's so me!" instead of ghost-town silence.


Noesis: Where Emotion Becomes Craft

Data gave us the what. Now we needed the how. Enter Noesis, our instrument for expressing empathy—a system that transforms our understanding of emotional rhythms and psychological triggers into controllable content expression.

If Catalyst is the radar that hears the human heart, Noesis is the instrument that translates those insights into the language of feeling. It modularizes the nuances of human psychology into actionable editing components:

  • "That Can't Be Thin": a rapid 0–3s close-up that teases disbelief.
  • "I Saw It Here First": a scrolling user-comment overlay for instant social proof.
  • "Only 20 Left": a pulse-quickening countdown that tugs at loss aversion.

Editors drag, drop, tweak. Noesis watches each publish, harvests which module stuck, which one fizzled, and refines itself. Video editing stops being a gamble and becomes a dialogue with real people's hearts—a systematic way to turn understanding into connection.


The Engine of Understanding

Here's what Catalyst and Noesis really share: they're not just tools—they're components of a machine built for understanding. Both systems take the messy, intangible realm of human psychology and make it workable, testable, scalable.

At their core, they represent structured empathy: the systematic transformation of "I think people feel..." into "Here's how we can know what people feel, and here's how we can respond to those feelings with precision."

Catalyst abstracts user motivations, touchpoints, and emotional journeys into testable strategic hypotheses. Noesis takes those insights and systematizes them into modular content expressions that can be mixed, matched, and refined. Together, they're building something unprecedented: a feedback loop between understanding and expression that gets smarter with every interaction.

This isn't about replacing human intuition—it's about amplifying it. It's about creating systems that learn not just what works, but why it works, so we can build more authentic connections at scale.


Pantheon: The Question We Can't Stop Asking

What if content could read your heartbeat?

We're standing at the threshold where video creation costs approach zero. Where Catalyst's understanding and Noesis's expression converge into something that's never existed before.

Something that doesn't just know what you watch, but how you feel while watching it.

The technical architecture, the user journeys, what happens when every story becomes as unique as your fingerprint—that's a conversation for another day. But the question keeps us up at night:

What becomes possible when empathy becomes infinite?


From Garbage Gambling to Golden Connection

So here's the truth I've learned:

  • Flooding the sky with ads may light things up briefly, but it never builds a bridge.
  • Probability is no substitute for empathy.
  • Behind every metric is a person with hopes, fears, and a desire to be understood.

If you want to stop betting on garbage and start crafting gold, begin by asking real questions: What does my audience feel right now? Where does their anxiety live? What small moment could make them feel seen?

Then turn those answers into your next ad, your next edit, your next recommendation. Because only when you honor the human journey—step by step, heartbeat by heartbeat—can you create the kind of magic that doesn't just catch the eye, but captures the heart.