In the classic film Wall Street, Charlie Sheen’s overly
ambitious Bud Fox character is getting a lecture on life from his blue-collar
airline mechanic father who rather simplistically frames what his younger son
actually does for a living.
Despite the racks of custom-tailored suits he wears and
the white-shoe brokerage firm where he works, he’s a salesman.
“Dad, I keep telling you, I’m an account executive not a
salesman,” he pleads.
“You ask strangers for money don’t you? You’re a
salesman.”
In the 18 months since I transitioned from the editorial side of the aisle, one of
the basic questions I always seem to be asked is “how do you like sales?” And
the truth be known, I’ve never thought of what we do here as sales, but rather professional
services consulting.
You see where I’m going with this?
Yes, I’m aware of how Bud Fox’s father would describe
what we do. But semantics aside, inarguably there is a distinct sales theme to the consulting world. But, in our
defense, we’re not like folks peddling vacuums or those Ginsu knife and
abdominal exercise infomercials that never seem to end – we’ll only bring you
as much or as little as you need.
If some consulting service or potential M&A affiliation
is not right, we’ll be the first to tell you so and walk away. And we’ve done
that on more occasions that you can imagine. You needn’t worry about the
proverbial foot in the door. If we steer a client into a situation that turns
out to be disastrous, then it’s our reputation that’s on the line.
By means of comparison, think of it as a restaurant
review. If you enjoy a wonderful experience, you’ll most likely recommend it to
a few of your friends. Conversely, if your meal is something out of Hell’s
Kitchen and you feel that poison control should have been on direct dial, then
it’s almost your obligation to warn at least 10 people.
We’ve worked too hard for the past 20-plus years to allow
that to happen. But we also require some help from the client side. People are
always amused when I say that “no” is the second-best answer I can get.
But it’s absolutely true.
“Let me think about it” leaves both us and the client in
limbo. And let’s be honest, what percentage of
folks, whether considering a merger or, for that matter, a gym
membership, actually engage after requesting some time to mull it over?
I’m guessing very few.
So call us what you want.
But I’ve never heard or seen anecdotal evidence that “let
me think about it” has ever helped any firm plan for the future.
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