The worst salesman in the west (and other tales from the financial frontier)

The ANZ branch on the corner of George and King in the Sydney CBD is a grand, olde worlde affair. Cavernous ceilings, wood panels, and lots of columns. I love this type of classical architecture, even if it can be a little formal.

A couple of months ago, set against the swarming crowds just beyond the doors on George Street, it seemed I wasn't the only one taken in by my surroundings. Pretty much everyone there explored the space with a quiet chorus of eager eyes as they patiently waited their turn.

Eventually, my turn came and I made my way to the counter – feeling a little like an extra in Butch Cassidy and The Sundance Kid. (Okay, so I have a fairly wild imagination.)

I handed over my deposit, the teller followed the usual process, and he then handed me my receipt.

But, once he'd done so, events took a strange turn.

The teller took a furtive look left, then right, and then leaned carefully across the counter towards me.

I wondered what this was all about and my brain instinctively offered up the following options:

1. He was about to offer me illegal drugs.

2. He was going to ask me if I knew of any good job openings.

3. He wanted to let me know that Butch and Sundance were standing right behind me, their guns loaded.

(Yes, I know, a very wild imagination, but believe me, this is exactly how it happened from my point of view.)

As it turned out, I was wrong on all counts.

The ANZ teller leaned carefully across the counter, looked me in the eye and asked if I had considered an ANZ credit card. With 55 days interest-free. In fact, there was even a special offer that waived the joining fee. And finally, he offered a second card at no extra price.

I took the receipt for my deposit and headed straight for the huge doors and into the anonymity of the lunchtime crowds, still swarming in the midday sun.

What had been a very pleasant, swift and efficient exchange up until that point had taken what I considered to be an ugly turn. I had gone to the bank to deposit my money as quickly and simply as possible. And I had all but done that when the teller slipped into what had to be one of the clumsiest and most ill-timed attempts to cross-sell me that I have ever encountered.

In the same way that when I go to the supermarket checkout, I want to pay for my goods not buy some more, so when I go to the teller window in a bank to deposit my money, I want to reduce my debt not add to it.

And over the past few weeks since then, it's been happening more and more as banks mobilise their army of window watchers to sell anything and everything to whomever walks in the doors. What really destroys the whole experience – above and beyond the sheer nuisance value – is the fact that they don't appear to have had any training. At ANZ, the teller's demeanour was hardly that of a slick salesman, and more recently at NAB, they tried to offer me a savings account for any cash sitting in the account that offsets my mortgage, but at a lower interest rate and one that would in fact have put me in a worse financial position. And, again at NAB when I was there earlier this week, the teller skipped any sort of polite introduction and launch straight into a spontaneous list of products. Credit card? Home insurance? Car insurance? Car loan? And so on. It was as though he was trying to guess my star sign.

I know that banks have never been anyone's favourite brand. But it's not that I don't like them, I just wish they would leave me alone.

Some days are better than others

It's December 5.

Day 339.

Only 26 to go.

But I think it's safe to say that today was far and away the worst day of 2009. And my birthday to boot.

I won't go into the details, but the only way I can bring myself to write a blog post this week is by reminding myself that it could always be worse. So here goes with the top 3 worst moments of my career so far – the worst pitch, the worst presentation, and the worst client lunch.

The worst pitch was also on my birthday. It was to Firepower, and then CEO John Finnin. All I can say is we lost the pitch, investors lost millions of dollars, the CEO's now in jail for sexually abusing young boys, and the chairman's about to follow him for fraud or some similar white collar crime. As it turns out, it seems we got off lightly.

The worst presentation was to a university vice-chancellor who decided to pull out a bottle of correction fluid halfway through the presentation. It turned out she wanted to make her own changes to the design recommendation. You know the sort of thing, a little off the side here and there.

The worst client lunch happened when one of my guests fainted at the table. She was out stone cold for a minute or two while we tried desperately to work out if she was still breathing. It was a real shock to say the least.

So that's it. Things can only get better, and they do say that tomorrow is another day – and what better way to get the ball rolling than with a Sunday lunchtime teleconference with the team in Cincinnati. Go the Bengals!

The art of persuasion

Persuasion is a fine art.

I know this because, like many of us, I spend a large part of my day trying to persuade people. At work, I’m trying to persuade clients to stay true to a particular strategy, even when the going gets tough. At home, I’m hoping to persuade my sons that sliding down the slippery-dip is actually much more fun than hurling themselves off the top.

But the common mistake I often see people make is that they think the art of the persuasion relies solely upon how persuasive you can be. When in fact, it relies largely on how much listening you can do.

And I mean really listening.

With all your senses, skills, faculties, and anything else you can muster to help you understand what people are really telling you – and what they really want you to hear.

Earlier this week, I spent a couple of hours listening to a friend of mine. Now this is a guy I really respect, and I would love to have join the agency. While some of what he said may not have been music to my ears, I did all I could to absorb everything he communicated – physical, emotional, rational, the lot. And to be perfectly honest, I did everything I could to try not to persuade him to do anything. What was I going to say? – I didn't know what he was thinking or how he felt, let alone what he might want.

And I see it happen all too often when someone flies into the discussion straight off the bat, only to discover halfway through their monologue that they have delivered the perfect argument for what they've now realised is in fact a non-existent issue.

It even happened this week on a project we were pitching. While we aimed to persuade the client of our insights, our two competitors pitched their cost-effectiveness. We ultimately won the pitch because the client didn't want to hear about price (cost-effective or otherwise), they only wanted to hear about how we could solve their business problem. And what shaped our response for the pitch was not what we wanted to tell them on presentation day, but what they wanted us to hear when they first issued the brief.

It's also worthwhile making another slight digression to introduce the fable of the North Wind and the Sun.

According to Aesop's fable, the North Wind tried to prove his strength by blowing the traveller’s cloak from his back, however, this only led the traveller to pull his cloak tighter around him. On the other hand, the Sun shone so brightly that the traveller removed his cloak in the heat of his own accord. What the Sun proved was that persuasion is a far stronger ally than brute force when it comes to achieving your ends. Not only is it vital to spend your time listening for what someone really needs, but it's equally important that you allow them to make the decision for themselves.

When it came to winning the pitch I mentioned earlier, it was the client who made the final decision, not us. Our arguments might have been persuasive, but the winning factor was our ability to listen.

And the same is true for the friend whom I hope will become my colleague. Listening for what he needs will get me much further than trying to persuade him of what I want.

So next time you want to persuade someone, don’t do it. Or at least not until you've had a good listen to what they have to tell you first.

Agencies get the clients they deserve

If it’s true that you do your best work for your best clients, then it’s also true that agencies generally get the clients they deserve.

As in life, like-minded people gradually build a pool of like-minded friends, and the same is true in any service-based industry like ours.

Businesses that value creativity gravitate towards agencies that put creativity at the heart of their own business. People who thrive on collaboration and partnership will work with agencies where close relationships are high on their agenda. And, clients with a firm focus on operational excellence will seek out an agency with a strong track record in heavy duty implementation.

So it came as a massive surprise to me this week when I discovered that one of our competitors was seemingly happy to undercut us by 75% to win a pitch.

Maybe it’s a sign that desperate times call for desperate measures, but I don’t envy any agency in a position where it’s building a portfolio of low-revenue-high-discount clients.

And, what sort of a client does an agency deserve when it offers 75% discounts to attract their business? 

To be perfectly honest, it scares me even to contemplate what that must be like – so I’ll leave it to your own imagination.

Every agency wants to win every pitch, but sometimes you have to be careful what you wish for.