And then the unexpected happened. Our house sold. Instantly. Exactly a month after deciding we could live in Boston, we were headed there. We had no choice. There was no time to think about Vermont or other alternatives. There was no time to ponder the loss of my local office space so suddenly. There was no time, period. Especially because we were leaving on a three week vacation in less than a month and the closing was set for the day after our return. Did I also mention that our Urban Experiment would be a Small House Experiment?
When your car gets a flat, you fix the tire, not the transmission. Why don’t you do that with your business? While working with clients of all types, I frequently see examples where a few difficult people, one bad outcome, and/or an obvious lack of clear communication and understanding involving one process triggers broad pronouncements and substantial changes in the environment – the equivalent of overhauling the transmission. For example:
Friday’s New York Times article, A Sea Change in Treating Heart Attacks, is a great example of dramatically improving results, not because of subject matter expertise, but because of attention to process. Heart attack death rates have dropped 38% in a decade. And that number probably under reports the real success due to changing demographics and increasing numbers of diabetic, obese, and other high risk patients. The improvement is not the result of new medical techniques. Doctors still remove blockages using a catheter, tiny balloon, and stent. What’s different is speed. The longer a blockage remains in place, the more damage is done to the heart and the more likely the patient is to die. Typical times between emergency calls and blockage removal have dropped from as much as two hours to under 60 minutes. At one hospital, that interval was cut from more than 150 minutes to 57. Some hospitals are now under 50 minutes. This is progress easily measured in lives saved. In hindsight, the changes seem simple and obvious. So simple you may think there is nothing your business could learn from them. I challenge that. Here is what you can learn.
But wait! What about the house we still owned in western Mass? The realtor told us the average time on the market for houses in our area was 210 days. Gasp! We’d just decided we could live in the city and I wanted that apartment – reality can be such a downer! My husband, skeptical about this urban idea, was probably more relieved than he dared admit to me. I think he was still hoping we’d buy the townhouse in the mountains of Vermont and I’d commute to Boston and the Pioneer Valley as needed. I don’t let go of exciting ideas that easily! Time for Plan B. I would rent the flat for my business. I could be there several days a week. It would make it so much easier to work with my Boston clients. Our home and my primary place of business would remain in western Mass. Once our house sold, if the Urban Experiment still felt like a good idea, we would have the option of moving to Boston. If not, we could reconsider that townhouse in Vermont, in Northampton, or someplace else. Either way, we would have options. And we wouldn’t be saddled with a single family dwelling that takes 210 days to sell. I signed the lease. And the clock was ticking. If most of those 12 months passed with me working part time in Boston without living there with my husband, I was pretty sure the opportunity was not going to offer itself up again. Thus, I was in a hurry. I saw to it our house was on the market within two weeks. Read Part 3 of The Urban Experiment!
Who are you when you ask questions? 1. The Challenger “Why are you doing Y when we haven’t done X?” A question like this may be completely innocent, but it may also be a challenge disguised as a question. The Challenger clearly believes the other person is wrong and is often eager to prove it. While the tone of voice usually betrays those intentions, the recipient may never notice as he struggles to answer the question and wonders why he is feeling and sounding defensive. 2. The Ambusher The Ambusher asks a series of questions, each quite simple, and often requiring nothing more than a yes or no. If you are on the receiving end, you reply innocently while trying to figure out where these questions are leading. Next thing you know, you’ve been ambushed. The Ambusher almost chuckles aloud thinking he has caught you in a contradiction or led you to an unavoidable conclusion. Of course, all he has really done is wasted your time and revealed himself as a manipulator.
When my husband retired, we gained a new kind of freedom. For the first time since age 5, we were not controlled by a school year calendar and forced to take vacations when everyone else did. And, for the first time ever, we were not tethered to a geographic location. Sure, I had a lot of clients in western Mass, but I also had a lot of clients elsewhere, some of which I worked with via Skype or phone. My home office could be moved in a flash. On top of that, neither daughter lived near by. As much as we loved beautiful, rugged Westhampton filled with hiking trails and wildlife, we were getting ready to consider other possibilities. We began traveling more. Leisure travel together and business trips began to merge. Meanwhile, our beautiful home in the hills of western Mass was sitting empty increasingly often. Empty and susceptible to power failures. In our area, no power meant no heat and no heat meant a risk of frozen pipes during the cold winters. It was starting to feel like a liability. And also a lot of work. The question was, where to go next?
There is much talk these days about the importance of adopting an abundance mentality and shedding a scarcity mentality. There is also much confusion. I just read an article on the subject that promoted big thinking and the belief that you can always do better while also discouraging the continuation of poverty behaviors like wasting your limited time searching for discounts and clipping coupons. Unfortunately, the article was totally focused on making more money and buying more things. In my opinion, it missed the point completely.
I used to think I could do most everything best by myself. I was faster, smarter, more vested, and more familiar with the issue at hand. I knew exactly what needed to be done. Working with others just slowed me down. When I was a software engineer decades ago, there was no doubt this was true. I asked questions until I had the requirements nailed down in detail. I knew my code inside and out. I kept track of hundreds of details and test scenarios in my head and on scraps of paper. When I went it alone, I produced bug-free code. To the best of my knowledge, I never left a bug for the customer to find. When I became a manager, I continued to do “what got me there.” I asked questions and I learned. Then, just as I did with software, I thought things through with great care and wrote up the definitive solution or explanation that I knew would end all related problems and discussions. It didn’t work. And it took me quite a while to figure out why. The reason it didn’t work all boils down to one thing: You can’t control the behavior of others.
A frequent reader wrote to disagree with my last post, Blind-sided! He thought it unfair to blame a Mom and Pop for failing to act in the face of an encroaching multi-billion dollar corporation. I’d like to give Mom and Pop more encouragement, and more credit, than that! If someone moves next door and offers the same value you do for less, you’re cooked. Even if they are only perceived as offering the same value. When such a threat appears, you need to differentiate. Whether that means a radical change or just a louder voice, you have to act. Hope is not a strategy! Edina Liquors, the subject of Blind-sided!, definitely should have done more than just hope.
Under cover of darkness, “America’s Wine Superstore,” with 100 stores in 15 states and offering 8000 wines, 3000 spirits, and 2500 beers, quietly opened at a prime intersection just outside the city limits of a first ring Minneapolis suburb possessing 3 ho-hum municipal liquor stores. Now, a mere 5 months later, “Edina blames Total Wine for falling revenue.” This headline in the Minneapolis Business Journal caught my eye because I lived in Edina a dozen years ago and know exactly how exciting those stores are. Edina, hello-o! That store was not built overnight. It is not a tiny, unrecognizable threat. Furthermore, you got a huge reprieve when Total Wine lost a full year battling for a liquor permit. Meanwhile, what did these stores do to prevent the revenue loss? Probably what many businesses do: