If everyone claims to be “unique,” why do so many businesses sound exactly the same?
Same headlines.
Same promises.
Same positioning statements wearing different fonts.
Somewhere along the way, “unique” stopped being a signal of difference—
and turned into background noise.
This isn’t a rant.
It’s a reflection.
Because if we’re being honest, most of us have used that word before.
I have too.
How “Unique” Became the Safest Word in Marketing
“Unique” feels like a strong word.
It sounds confident.
It sounds aspirational.
It sounds like positioning.
And that’s exactly why it’s everywhere.
When we don’t know how to explain our difference, “unique” becomes a placeholder.
A verbal cushion.
A way to move forward without fully committing.
Instead of explaining how we’re different, we declare that we are.
It feels efficient.
It feels professional.
It feels… safe.
But safety is usually the enemy of clarity.
The Quiet Problem With Saying We’re Unique
Here’s the uncomfortable part.
When we say “we’re unique” without context, we’re not clarifying anything.
We’re outsourcing the thinking to the reader.
We’re asking them to:
- Interpret the difference
- Fill in the blanks
- Decide what makes us special
And people don’t like doing homework—especially in the first few seconds on a website.
According to multiple UX studies, visitors spend less than 10 seconds deciding whether a page is worth their attention.
“Unique” doesn’t survive that window.
Why “Unique” Rarely Means Anything to Customers
Customers don’t wake up looking for uniqueness.
They wake up looking for:
- Fewer risks
- Clear outcomes
- Familiar problems solved better
“Unique” doesn’t answer any of that.
In fact, it often triggers skepticism.
Because if something is truly different, we usually don’t need to label it.
It shows up in the way it’s explained.
Seth Godin once said:
“Different isn’t better. Better is better.”
Calling something unique doesn’t make it better.
Making it understandable does.
The More We Say ‘Unique,’ the Less We Sound Like Ourselves
Here’s the irony I keep seeing.
The word “unique” is supposed to differentiate us.
But when everyone uses it, it standardizes us.
Visit ten websites in the same industry.
Chances are, at least half of them claim to be:
- Unique
- Innovative
- Customer-centric
Different businesses.
Same adjectives.
At that point, uniqueness becomes invisible.
Why This Happens (And Why It’s Not Laziness)
This problem usually doesn’t come from laziness.
It comes from uncertainty.
Especially when:
- The business has evolved
- The offering has expanded
- The original clarity has faded
“Unique” becomes a shortcut when articulation feels hard.
It’s easier to label than to explain.
Easier to assert than to describe.
But clarity demands effort—and sometimes uncomfortable specificity.
What “Unique” Is Often Trying to Hide
Let’s be honest with ourselves.
Sometimes “unique” is used to avoid:
- Choosing a clear audience
- Excluding certain buyers
- Owning a narrow point of view
Specificity forces trade-offs.
“Unique” lets us stay vague while still sounding confident.
But vagueness doesn’t build trust.
It delays understanding.
What the Data Quietly Tells Us
Here’s something worth grounding this in.
According to Edelman’s Trust Barometer:
- 81% of people say trust is a deciding factor in buying decisions
- Trust increases when communication feels clear, consistent, and concrete
Generic claims reduce perceived credibility—even if the product is good.
So when “unique” replaces explanation, trust quietly erodes.
Not because customers disagree—but because they don’t understand.
How Customers Actually Decide (In Reality)
Customers rarely ask:
“Is this company unique?”
They ask:
- “Is this for someone like us?”
- “Do they understand our situation?”
- “Can we picture this working?”
Those questions are answered through:
- Examples
- Language choices
- Framing of problems
Not labels.
A Personal Observation From the Field
Over the years, I’ve noticed something consistent.
The businesses that are actually different rarely talk about being unique.
They talk about:
- One specific problem
- One clear angle
- One distinct way of seeing the world
Their language feels calm.
Almost obvious.
That’s usually the giveaway.
When ‘Unique’ Becomes a Liability
In some cases, “unique” can even backfire.
For services, especially B2B:
- Too much uniqueness feels risky
- Buyers prefer clarity over novelty
- Familiar structure with better reasoning wins
So claiming uniqueness without grounding can trigger hesitation, not interest.
The Difference Between Being Unique and Being Distinct
This is an important distinction.
Unique is a label.
Distinct is an experience.
Distinct shows up in:
- How we frame the problem
- What we emphasize
- What we intentionally leave out
Distinctness doesn’t need announcements.
It reveals itself through consistency.
Why Explaining Difference Feels Harder Than Declaring It
Declaring uniqueness is easy.
Explaining difference requires:
- Understanding our customers deeply
- Knowing where we actually help
- Admitting what we’re not good at
That’s real work.
And it’s emotional work too—because it forces us to confront gaps between how we see ourselves and how others experience us.
The Hidden Cost of Chasing ‘Unique’
When we chase uniqueness as a goal, we often miss the point.
We start asking:
“How do we stand out?”
Instead of:
“How do we make sense?”
Standing out without making sense is noise.
Making sense naturally stands out.
David Ogilvy once said:
“If you don’t have something to say, sing it.”
In modern marketing, we often sing “unique” when we’re not sure what to say.
What I Try to Do Instead
Personally, when I catch myself wanting to use the word “unique,” I pause.
Not to remove it automatically—but to ask:
“What am I trying to avoid explaining?”
Usually, there’s something underneath:
- A nuance
- A trade-off
- A real difference that just hasn’t been articulated yet
That’s where the real work is.
Why This Matters More Than Ever
Markets are crowded.
Attention is thin.
Trust is fragile.
In that environment, labels don’t survive.
Only clarity does.
A Simple Test We Can All Try
Here’s a quiet test worth asking internally:
“If we remove the word ‘unique,’ does our message still work?”
If it doesn’t, the issue isn’t wording.
It’s positioning.
Where This Leaves Us
This isn’t an argument against differentiation.
It’s an argument against declared differentiation.
Difference isn’t something we announce.
It’s something others notice.
“Unique” didn’t become meaningless because it’s a bad word.
It became meaningless because it’s often used when meaning is missing.
The strongest differentiation doesn’t need to say it’s different.
If this reflection feels familiar—and it makes you quietly question how your own website talks about itself—then that discomfort is probably useful.
Sometimes the work isn’t about adding better words.
It’s about removing the comfortable ones, and finally explaining what you really do in a way that makes sense.
If that resonates, I’m always open to having that conversation.