Open Loop

In the mid-1980s, an episode of Cagney and Lacey blew my mind.

Actually, I was furious. The writers didn’t bother to finish it. We got to the end of the episode without getting to the end of the story. The bad guy wasn’t caught. Justice wasn’t served. It was a ridiculous, shameful mess.

And I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Humans hate loose ends.

In storytelling and copywriting we call them open loops — unresolved questions, unfinished narratives. They’re psychological triggers. In his best-selling book Pre-Suasion, psychologist Robert Cialdini describes the reason we struggle to resist a mystery: “That desire — which also pushes us to return to incomplete narratives, unresolved problems, unanswered questions, and unachieved goals — reflects a craving for cognitive closure.”

The technique is simple but relentless: introduce a question, delay the answer, and build tension in the space between them.

Hemingway understood this better than most. His famous short story “Hills Like White Elephants” never tells us the outcome of the couple’s conflict. Yet it’s impossible to stop reading it. Why? Because the open loop creates tension, and tension creates attention.

Earlier this week, I got a note from someone who’d finished one of my novels. She loved it, but complained that she couldn’t get anything done while she was reading it. I’d love to tell you it’s because I’m a once-in-a-generation kind of thriller writer, but really it comes down to the relentless layering of open loops. Question after question, each one pulling you forward.

Here’s where it gets practical. In business communication — your emails, your sales pages, your presentations — the same principle applies. You don’t need to be subtle about it. “See what happens when…” “I used to think this, but then…” “The mistake most people make…” These aren’t tricks. They’re invitations. They’re saying: there’s a gap here between what you know and what you don’t know, and you’re going to want to close it.

The best copywriters have always understood this. They don’t just describe the product. They ask a question that makes the solution necessary. They introduce a problem without immediately solving it. That gap — that open loop — is where the magic happens.

Because the moment you resolve the loop, the tension disappears. But until you do, your audience is yours.

You own their attention in a way that facts alone never will.

Category: Mechanics