What’s it worth

October 16, 2018October 15, 2018 ~ Sasha ~ 2 Comments

At some point in every negotiation, the conversation turns to price.

Sometimes this is straightforward. It’s been discussed all along and you are formalizing what everyone expects.

And sometimes, a new prospect will come at you with some version of, “We really want to do this, we just can’t make it happen at this price. Could you do it for less?”

Can you?

Well yes, you always can do it for less.

But should you?

There might be good reasons to do it for less. The work is interesting and important and will allow you to grow. It will open new doors for you and your firm. You have available resources (time, people) that otherwise would lay dormant.

But if the price you’ve offered is one you’ve been paid before, and if clients keep coming back for more and referring new people to you, this means that, at the price you initially offered, the one you’ve been asked to lower, your work is a bargain: you’ve been delivering a lot more value than the price you’re charging.

What’s challenging is how uncomfortable the “can you do it for less” moment is. The tension in the silence that follows this question makes you want to make the discomfort go away, which you can do by negotiating against yourself.

“Maybe,” you think, “this time I’m wrong.” “Maybe, this time, my work isn’t worth it.” “Maybe this client will get away and……..”

And what, exactly?

And there will be another client tomorrow. This client will see what you’re worth, be willing to pay that amount and, in doing so, will get be getting a bargain relative to what you’ll deliver.

Don’t uncut yourself, and certainly don’t apologizing for asking for what you deserve.

Instead, you might offer: “I’m confident that at the price we’re discussing, you will get more than you’re paying for.”

Then, when she ultimately say yes, it’s up to you to do something magical, which is exactly where you want to be.

The Story-Reality Gap

November 21, 2017November 20, 2017 ~ Sasha ~ Leave a comment

Not long after a recent conference, I was comparing notes with an early-stage social entrepreneur about pitching to potential investors. The pitches at the conference had been heavy on dreams, lighter on reality, and we got to talking about how big the gap should be between the stories we tell on stage and what’s happening on the ground.

Specifically, in service of telling our stories, when do we push the truth so far as to reach a breaking point?

Like all good questions, the answer to this one begins with recognizing the limits of black and white thinking: there aren’t just two types of stories, one full of puffery and half-truths and the other a grim, warts-and-all picture of reality so sober and honest that no one would ever dream of funding us.

Indeed, the real truth is this: we owe it to our ideas to tell stories big enough that there’s space for others in them.

Our job is to describe a future reality that will only come into being if the listener rolls up her sleeves with us to help make it happen. This reality can be a few steps, maybe many steps, removed from today, because the question the sophisticated listener is asking isn’t “is this exactly what they’re doing today?” it is, “do I believe that this person with this team, together with my help and support, can get us from here to there?”

With this as a given, we all have our own sweet spot for how we tell stories in ways that mesh with our personalities and worldview. I’ve been persuaded both by big-picture dreamers and cranky cynics, the former because they help me see something that feels impossible but just-in-reach, the latter because if, with all their negativity, they tell me that they can make something important happen, I’m inclined to believe them.

My own version of selling builds off how I’m wired—I deeply value transparency and authenticity, and as a listener I want to understand where gaps lie and that an entrepreneur is thinking two steps ahead. So I pitch in this same way, always trying to walk the line of painting a big vision and acknowledging what doesn’t exist yet, the potential pitfalls, an how I’m going to address them. This is the balance that works for me, the space between a story I cannot tell authentically (because it feels un-grounded) and one that is thinking and playing too small.

Of course your sweet spot will be somewhere slightly different, a comfort zone with a natural set point on the spectrum between dazzle/charisma/vision and grounded, sober reality.

The non-negotiable bit is that, regardless of which style is most comfortable to you, it’s everyone’s job to share an evocative vision of an as-yet-unrealized future and help others see it.

Storytelling is just that…story-telling, and the stories you want to tell are stories about the future.

The perfect toy

December 5, 2013December 4, 2013 ~ Sasha ~ 3 Comments

Last week we got my son what he called “maybe the best present ever.” It’s a Structures 200 Plank Set.

Before buying it my wife and I kept on reading over the description to see if we were missing anything. It is described as “200 identical wooden planks.” Each of them is a three-inch long little pine rectangle. No notches, no nothing, no different sizes. The product description says: “No glue connectors required, simply stack wood planks to create buildings, monuments and geometric forms.” 200 identical little pieces of wood, along with “ideas for over 40 structures?” Yup, 200 identical little pieces of wood, plus the clever idea to put them all together in a box and sell them for $49.99.

Really? Yes, really.

And the truth is, it’s wonderful. You can build bridges, staircases and vortexes. The pieces are light enough and have enough friction that they don’t collapse. It’s a blank canvas in a world where everything (especially toys) is over-engineered with too many instructions to follow. It’s what Lego used to be before they figured out that if you sell a bunch of nondescript bricks each kid will max out at a thousand pieces, but if you sell them the Death Star and Ewok Village and an X-Wing Fighter and the Republic Attack Cruiser, you can keep on selling, well, forever.

So Legos as they are today win. And Legos as they used to be (Structures 200) wins too, albeit at a smaller scale. Why? It’s because we can deliver one of two kinds of experiences to our customers.

At one extreme we have what Lego has become: each individual story perfectly constructed, honed down to the last piece, and that one special character that you can’t get anywhere else. The edges have been smoothed off, you can have what everyone else has and talk about it with your friends. You know exactly what you’re getting and it delivers. All you have to do is buy it and follow the instructions. (This is the big, institutionalized nonprofit, where any gift can be broken down into a small, digestible story and you can shop for product like you shop on Amazon. Crank those babies out on the assembly line and sell ‘em like hotcakes.)

At the other end is the pure, blank canvas: create your own story, tell it in your own way. You, the customer, are the creator and curator and artist, and we are the vehicle for your self-expression. This is the startup, the dream, the “let’s build this thing together and we will change the world.”

Where things fall down is in between, where the story is neither crisp and clean enough to make a simple promise and deliver on it, nor is there an exciting blank canvas where big thinkers and first movers can make their mark. Stuck in the middle is disappointing to everyone, and you have no customer whose problem you’re completely solving.

(By the way, blank canvases and products that deliver on their promises can co-exist within one organization, you just have to realize which is which and never forget that each of those gets sold to a different customer.)

Not just whether, how

March 22, 2013March 21, 2013 ~ Sasha ~ Leave a comment

One way to end a sales meeting is with the big push. You’ve done the work, you’ve made the pitch, you go to close the sale.

Before that moment, and in the meetings preceding that meeting, you’re having a different conversation.

And it IS supposed to be a conversation. That means questions are very often the answer. One of the biggest mistake people make in trying to make a sale is the rush to get out your “whole story:” your job is to make a pitch, and you’d better say everything you need to say the clock runs out on your meeting.

Of course the problem with that is that you can’t solve someone’s problem if you never bother to find out in the first place what their problem is.

The other day I was stopped cold by a great question I’ve never asked so directly (but wished I had):

“What factors are most important for you in making this decision?”

So simple, but I’d never actually paused to ask that clear, direct, transparent, non-threatening, and quite objective question.

I wouldn’t do it in every situation – this question can, if not asked in the right way, put your prospect in a “head” rather than “gut” or “heart” space in terms of her decision-making, which might not always be the right thing to do.

But if you’re in a complex, relationship-based, multi-faceted decision-making situation, asking directly how the decision is going to be made is probably going to help most of the time.

Just like

February 28, 2012February 27, 2012 ~ Sasha ~ Leave a comment

Arriving at the airport, looking for a cab, a woman accosts me.

“Taxi?”

“Yes, I’m looking for a taxi.”

“Come with me! I’m just like a taxi. Same price.”

No thanks.

Here are the problems with “just like” something else:

It’s obvious to you and to me that you’re not, really, just like them. If you were, you’d be them.
What you’re really saying is “I’ll be a little bit cheaper than them” and so it’s up to me to decide how much ick factor I’m willing to put up with in exchange for a “little bit cheaper.”
By definition you never started selling me what you were since the whole pitch was that you’re kinda sorta like something else

Stop pitching what you’re almost like and start pitching what you are. It’s much more compelling, to you and to me.

(no this post isn’t about taxis).

Simple, direct, actionable

October 26, 2011October 25, 2011 ~ Sasha ~ 1 Comment

You can choose to do one of two things:

Try to convince new people that they want to help you.
Give people who are already convinced they want to help you a useful job to do.

The first one feels a lot more like productive work, because you’re churning away and shouting from the rooftops.

The second one will likely have more impact in the long run.

Akil and Sciryl

July 19, 2011July 19, 2011 ~ Sasha ~ Leave a comment

A guy’s on the subway car with a guitar, ready to sing. New guy for today, but really he’s just another guy with a guitar…the same old story.

But then a passenger yells out, “YOU KNOW ‘MONEY MONEY MONEY BY THE O’JAYS? I WILL GIVE YOU TEN DOLLARS…TEN DOLLARS…IF YOU CAN GET THREE PASSENGERS TO SING ALONG TO THE CHORUS WHILE YOU SING!”

The guitarist says he’s game.

The passenger stands up, starts goading the guitarist, starts goading the other passengers – “C’MON NOW, THE BRAVE ONES ARE SINGING. HOW ABOUT THE REST OF YOU?”

And then, ten seconds later, the trouble-making passenger starts bee-bopping. He’s part of the band, he’s the front man, in fact.

“IT’S TRUE,” he says, “NO ONE ON THE TRAIN WOULD EVER BE THIS NICE TO A STREET PERFORMER!”

And the riffs continue. “WE’RE NOT HOMELESS, WE’RE NOT HUNGRY. IN FACT, WE SMELL BETTER THAN YOU….Just kidding…WE’RE JUST DOING WHAT WE LOVE, SHARING WHAT WE DO. BUY A CD, GIVE A DONATION, WE TAKE CREDIT CARDS…JUST GIVE US YOUR PIN NUMBER…AND GO TO ISAWYOUGUYS.COM…THAT’S ISAWYOUGUYS.COM….ISAWYOUGUYS.COM. HAVE A NICE DAY.”

These guys call themselves Akil and Sciryl (“lyrics” spelled backwards). And you can indeed find them at isawyouguys.com.

Here’s the deal: you’re facing the same choices as these guys. Your can choose to be a regular old street performer by showing up in the way you’re supposed to show up – you look appropriate, you act appropriate, you pitch in an appropriate way – in which case the only way you win is by being the single best street performer they’re looking for that day (and happening to sing the song they love).

Or, you can put on a show, a show they’ve never seen before, a show a lot of people won’t like but a few will stand up and say, “Finally, I’m sick of all these crappy performers, what I was dying for was a little entertainment!! Let’s talk.”

It’s safe to be a street performer, and you won’t make any enemies. But artists put on shows. That’s what makes them artists.

The O’Jays certainly knew that. Look at those outfits, look at those moves. A SHOW.

Which side of the table?

February 4, 2010February 4, 2010 ~ Sasha ~ Leave a comment

Which side of the table do you want to be on? If you are in any sort of client-facing, relationship-driven, or advisory role, you can orient yourself one of two ways: “across the table” or on the “same side of the table.”

The “across the table” strategy is the purview of the expert, and is adeptly practiced by many (but definitely not all) management consulting firms, bankers, expert witnesses and gurus. Its hallmarks are complex financial models and the use of terminology and frameworks and abbreviations that demonstrate domain expertise and separation. The examples the expert cites are hallmark successes to illustrate the broader theory, and the desired result is to affirm her client’s fears while leaving him with a vague, warm sense that the expert knows what she’s talking about and that he’s in good hands. The strategy is working when meetings give the sense that the expert cannot be easily replaced, and as a result she is hired for the next job. This strategy works best with clients with limited time and experience, in politicized environments, and where managing risk and covering your bases is important.

The “same side of the table” strategy dispenses with most of the bells and whistles of the expert. The adviser establishes credibility by laying her cards on the table, explaining her motives and her desired outcomes. In the pitch, failures are cited as often as successes, and the advisor wants, literally and figuratively, to find herself on the same side of the table as the person being advised. Terminology is simple, there are lots of appeals to common sense and shared experience, and the advisor’s aim is to share the tools she uses with the client, to make herself dispensable. This too, importantly, can often result in the adviser being hired again.

The first strategy is the dominant one, and it can be hugely effective because we’ve been trained over the years (starting in kindergarten and moving on from there) that someone out there knows more than we do and that we can buy expertise from others, because their expertise outweighs the fact that they understand our situation far less well than we do. And, from the expert’s seat, it’s accepted that a little slight of hand and obfuscation is a small price to pay for the overall betterment of the client’s situation.

Switching to the “same side of the table” takes years of unlearning the burned-in, rewarded traits of low-level smokescreen, dressed-up financial models and frameworks, and the intellectual laziness that complexity can paper over. But pulling this off is, among other things, the difference between your average conference presentation and a TED talk (transcendence comes when a marine biologist explains the fastest appendage in the world in a way that millions can understand it).

Crossing this chasm is worth the leap, but make no mistake that it is a leap, and in the transition you’ll often stumble and find yourself get caught in the middle. That’s OK, it’s a sign of progress.