When I attended the University of Alabama, myself and 6 roommates lived in the perfect place for throwing large parties on the weekend. It was a centrally located, 2-story house with a sizable back yard and spacious living area. It was also a rapidly decaying death trap that leaned to one side (whichever side depended on the day), had barely-functional plumbing, and doors that didn’t quite shut. Tyler Durden would’ve felt right at home. When football season rolled around, we threw a series of 10 parties that achieved legendary status largely due to our careful planning and execution. The lessons I learned during this time could fill a book and many of them are directly applicable to sales. Here are two of them.
Lesson 1: You cannot force a party or a sale to happen, you can only set the initial conditions.
Our parties officially kicked off at 10pm. By that time, we were to have our whole bottom floor cleared out, furniture moved to the patio, refreshments at their stations, music artists set up, and security guy manning the table out front. At 10pm, nothing more could be done: the party would either happen… or it wouldn’t. Once people started strolling in, we hosts could only sit back and watch. We were available to help, of course–giving directions to the bathroom, breaking up fights, cleaning up messes, etc.–but if someone wasn’t having a good time and wanted to leave, we couldn’t stop them. Attendees had to enter, find their way around, and decide on their own that it was worth sticking around and hopefully call their friends to join.
Sales are like this. You cannot force someone to buy. By the time you see them stroll in the metaphorical door, you are there as the facilitator of what is largely an organic process. You are there to help educate, navigate politics, adhere to a sensible timeline, and so on. And sometimes this feels like force; especially when you’re following up for the 10th time after getting radio silence near the end of a sales cycle. But at the end of the day your prospect is an independent person with a will you have no control over, and if you try to make them do anything, you’ll end up in a similar situation as I would trying to keep someone from leaving my party: You will ensure they leave and tell their friends to steer clear!
Lesson 2: Customers must have skin in the game.
The lifeblood of college parties are getting what might be called “anchors.” These are the attendees that others look to for guidance when deciding what parties to attend and how long to stay. They come in different forms: some are attractive, some are well-known, and some just have a particularly enjoyable personality. They often know they are the anchors when they arrive, and as a result they’re the hardest to please and the quickest to leave. Their leaving causes a cascade of other groups leaving until eventually no one is left. The key to having a party organically grow (and ours saw over 500 people each night) is to secure anchors long enough to cause a reverse cascade of groups showing up and staying.
There is a good way and a bad way to do this and it involves getting skin in the game. See, we charged $5 per person to enter our house. The security guy I mentioned earlier made sure no one got in for free. And we made no exceptions. You can imagine the surprise of many anchors, who felt we were lucky to merely have them show up. Many of them refused to pay and left. But some would pay. And because they did, they would stay a little longer to get their money’s worth. And that little extra amount of time–call it 30 minutes–was long enough for a few clusters of folks to arrive and to signal to the anchor that things were picking up, which bought a little more time. Then another couple anchors pay and come in. Now we’re talking! Pretty soon the anchor attendees who refused to pay at the beginning of the night would show up, having heard all about what they’re missing, with their heads down and cash held out. Welcome back.
I said we made no exceptions, but truthfully we did a few times and were punished for it. Early on, the pressure to get anchors in our party led to our acquiescence and we let them in for free. And they would stay for about 20 minutes and leave. Every time. Totally useless. Worse, it was a net harm because they usually wouldn’t come back–as they had a mediocre time and no perception of value–and they’d pull their friends over to other venues for the night. Never again, I vowed. Anchors pay just like everyone else.
I think about this lesson when I am asked for free trials. Every prospect is some shade of “anchor,” and they often feel you’re lucky to be getting their call, much less their investment. But giving away services sets everyone up for failure. Prospects have no reason to take the trial seriously, which drastically increases odds of failure, and that failure can cause a ripple effect of harm that negatively impacts future deals. Everyone needs to pay. You’ll lose some deals, but the ones you’ll get will be better and those who refused to pay will often show up again when they hear what they’re missing. Welcome them back.