Let's get specific, people

Hyper-specificity Is the new relatability.

What do I mean by that?

Well, there was a time when the internet once rewarded mass appeal content. The classic “5 signs your job is stressing you out,” or “Relatable things every 20-something does” posts and articles were the norm.

And they were fkn shite.

Why? Because they were trying waaaay too hard to appeal to everyone (and usually fell flat).

Now, the most viral content is hyper-specific. Like, weirdly specific.

Instead of “we all had the same childhood,” it’s: "The very specific type of childhood sadness that came from watching Animal Planet at 2 PM on a rainy summer weekday after school.”

Instead of generic office humour, it’s: "That oddly quiet, eerie feeling in the office at 3:17 PM on a Wednesday when everyone’s pretending to work but actually thinking about dinner.”

These oddly precise observations resonate more than the broad, one-size-fits-all ones. And that shift is influencing individual creators and changing how brands communicate.

Why hyper-specificity works:

Because we’ve moved past the era of universal relatability.

The internet is oversaturated with content. And, if I’m honest, broad strokes just don’t hit the same way.

Hyper-specificity, on the other hand, does two things incredibly well:

1. Triggers deep personal recognition: The more niche something is, the more it feels like an inside joke. The moment of “wait, it’s not just me?” creates an undeniably stronger connection. We all love to feel seen, and a little held, sometimes.

2. Signals authenticity: Broad, generic messaging feels like marketing. Hyper-specificity feels human. It tells your audience you understand. You get them. Because only someone who’s been there, or feels that way, would know.

A few brands that are doing it right:

• Duolingo on TikTok: The brand has leaned into ultra-specific, unhinged humour, like joking about the oddly aggressive vibes of learning French on their app.

• Ryanair’s social media: Their TikTok roasts people for expecting luxury from a budget airline, playing into painfully real travel experiences.

• Liquid Death’s copywriting: They describe their water’s origin in absurdly detailed, borderline unnecessary ways, making even the simple act of hydration feel epic.

Okay, so, how can you tap into hyper-specificity without sounding like a freak?

The risk here is that you go too niche and miss. Suddenly nobody knows what you’re talking about, and you’ve outed yourself as a weirdo.

Oh, and you also can’t blame me – whoops.

You also don’t want it to feel forced. Because then it’s cringe. No pressure!

Here’s a few ways you can do this:

• Listen to your audience: What oddly specific things do your customers constantly reference about your product or industry? That’s your goldmine.

• Be self-aware: If your brand is known for something niche (e.g., Trader Joe’s seasonal obsession, Sephora lighting exposing every pore), lean into it.

• Use language people actually use: Don’t overthink it. The best hyper-specific content sounds like something a friend would text in a group chat.

Unfortunately, we live in a time where people scroll past almost anything that doesn’t instantly resonate with them. Generic content? Does not resonate.

Niche, weird, and oddly accurate your content? Does.

Get weird. Get specific. Make content for the little freaks like you and me, and watch the internet eat it up. I promise.

-Sophie, Writer