Preface: Trust me, Charles Green is the master in all things Trust related. He’s written an number of books trust in selling, the most famous is The Trusted Advisor. Charlie has been a friend and mentor of years. He is probably one of the deepest thinkers on connecting in meaningful ways about trust. But I also know something about Charlie that very few people know. He loves responding to the worst possible prospecting emails possible. He responds to Nigerian princes with great questions about their offers, and suggestions about how they might find more money to send without the things they ask for. What’s amazing is the Nigerian princes get into arguments with them. He gets great joy in reaching back to them. Sometimes I think these people think, “Wow, I’ve got someone on the hook…” In reality, it’s just Charlie reeling them in.
In his last paragraph, Charlie expertly articulates a theme that I see in so many of these stories. “Why does all this interest me? I hope it’s self-evident at this point. It gives me a chance to be a better, more evolved human being. And to think we would find such an opportunity in, of all places, selling? This apparent paradox continues to intrigue me to this day. “
WHY I’M SO INTERESTED IN SELLING
My dad was an academic, I got an undergraduate degree in philosophy, and my first jobs were in government and a non-profit. Not fertile ground for sales folk. And of course I shared the common negative stereotype about salespeople.
Somehow it occurred to me that an MBA might be interesting, and several schools lowered their experience standards enough to admit me, including Harvard. It was a life-changing experience regarding business – but not regarding sales. The only course I saw on sales (this was back 1974-76) was about strategic selling and sales management; nothing about the personal psychology of selling, which I later came to see as critical.
I settled into management consulting (“those who can, do; those who can’t, teach or consult”). After a few years, it became clear that at some not-too-distant point, I would have to start selling – a prospect that did not thrill me. I tried my hand at the bloodless side of the business, writing reports and letters to prospects. It was intellectually interesting, but nothing came of it.
Then came the day of my first “sales” opportunity. My boss “offered” to come meet the client with me, “in a purely observational and advisory capacity.” Oh great, my boss looking over my shoulder. After the obligatory business card exchange and coffee cups, the client focused on me and asked “Tell me, Mr. Green; what experience do you have in doing marketing studies for XYZ [their niche industry]?” I was the proverbial deer in the headlights, clueless as to what to say and mindful that, to my knowledge, we had in fact never done any work in this sector.
Before I could regurgitate my best attempt at tap-dancing, my boss interjected to answer the question: “None that I can think of,” he said. “What else might we talk about that might be of interest?” I was stunned; surely admitting ignorance couldn’t be the right response! It went against everything I knew about sales (which of course was not much). But the client, equally taken aback, responded candidly, “Well, that’s OK, it seems like nobody’s done much marketing in XYZ; what else have you got that might be relevant?” And suddenly we were off to a collaborative and informal chat. (P.S.; we got the job).
It resonated with me more and more over the years. I realized I had been thinking of sales as being all about a formalized battle between seller and buyer, with the buyer’s wallet the prize. My distaste for the fight was seasoned by fear; what if I were to lose? How would I master the various tactics and counter-tactics involved? Worst of all, what if I won and were find myself to be guilty of manipulative self-dealing? My self-image was at stake.
The idea that you could speak the truth to a prospect was stunning to me; particularly a truth like “I don’t know.” Turns out that admitting your limitations didn’t reduce your credibility – it enhanced it. Later revelations included referring a lead to a seller more appropriate for the client, even including a competitor; such selfless actions lead to positive referrals and future sales.
I wrote Trust-based Selling a few years after co-writing The Trusted Advisor. My first sales client was Intel, and I expressed my concern to my client that virtually all my sales experience was in consultative professions. He assured me that it was 100% relevant to large B2B sales, and he was absolutely right. Apart from late-night TV ads for tchotchkes or low price-point commodities, most sales involve some personal interaction; trust dynamics are inevitable.
Eventually I came to a larger revelation; the problem with “sales” lies at the core, the heart, the primary goal or objective of selling. If, as most books and training programs suggest, your ultimate goal is to get the sale, then you are doomed, because that is seller-centric. Buyers prefer to buy from buyer-centric sellers, not those who are in it for themselves. But if you change the goal to “help the customer,” everything changes. The sale becomes a delightful byproduct, not a goal. And surprise, surprise, that holistic approach to sales produces more sales in aggregate in the longer run. The key lies not in challenging the customer (though that’s sometimes appropriate), but in developing a relationship of trust. As a Goldman Sachs’ Gus Levy said years ago, “we are long-term greedy.” In other words, playing the long game by focusing on client needs ultimately helps the seller as well. Even earlier, Dale Carnegie wrote “the only way I can get you to do anything is by giving you what you want.” Simple. Not always easy, but still simple.
Full circle; Why am I so interested in selling? Because it is a human, personal interaction, a form of relationship forged in an environment fraught with opportunities for competitiveness, self-interest, suspicion, economic failure and a thousand forms of fear. Relationships formed in such inhospitable environments have the potential to be deeper and stronger than many more casual relationships. Not to get too highfalutin, but a life based on such principles as helping Others, humility, and long-term focus is a life lived well. The ability to do so reflects a certain maturity as a human being.
Why does all this interest me? I hope it’s self-evident at this point. It gives me a chance to be a better, more evolved human being. And to think we would find such an opportunity in, of all places, selling? This apparent paradox continues to intrigue me to this day.
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