Heal thyself
I had a conversation with my coach. It went something like this.
PHIL:
You know, after four and half years, I think I’ve worked out who I am as a consultant. I’m going to rewrite the copy on my website and finally pay a designer to make it look good.
COACH:
No you’re not.
PHIL:
What?
COACH:
Would you let a client re-do their positioning and re-do their messaging without hiring someone like you to talk to their customers first?
PHIL:
Of course not.
COACH:
Hmmm. And yet…
PHIL:
Touché.
So I recontacted some clients, who kindly let me buy them coffee and ask them some questions.
What problem did you hire me to solve?
Why was that a problem?
And why was that a problem? (The old 5 Whys technique)
How did that problem manifest? What were its implications?
What would it have cost you to do nothing and not solve the problem?
What made it a ‘now’ problem that was suddenly urgent as well as important?
Why did you hire me and not someone else?
How, in your words, did I help you solve the problem?
What difference did my work make? What impact has it had?
If you were recommending me to another client, what would you say?
Truffle pig
When I do this work for my clients, part of the value comes from my neutrality and my detached perspective. I don’t take anything for granted when I talk to their customers, and so I hear things my clients wouldn’t hear. And, like a truffle pig, I have a more sensitive nose for which earth to dig in and which rocks to look under.
It’s harder to do this kind of work for yourself. And thank goodness for that. I’d be out of a job if it weren’t. But I can’t afford someone like me just yet. So my clients and I worked through any awkwardness about them saying nice or not so nice things to my face. And I detached myself from being the subject of the conversation as much as I could.
What a blessing (thank you clients, thank you Coach). I’ve ended up in a much better place than I would have on my own. I know I shouldn’t sound surprised. I’m in the business of ending up in better places than my clients would have on their own. But now I’ve felt for myself how I want them to feel:
That’s us. That is us. That’s us at our unique best. That’s our truth. But it’s a truth we didn’t know how to tell. We wouldn’t, couldn’t, have got here on our own.
Ideal brand strategy client reaction
Detective work and creative work
Truth is the operative word here. It turns out I’m in the truth business. I help my clients find their irresistible truth, and I help them tell it in an irresistible way.
My irresistible truth is that I help my clients find their irresistible truth.
I’m grateful to my clients for the generous assists that led to this outcome.
None of them spoke the phrase, ‘irresistible truth’ in our conversations.
They all spoke about consideration and lead generation issues at the top of the funnel. They all wanted to attract more of the right kind of prospects. They all wanted a more effective shop window, in so many words. They all wanted their brands to have more charisma, in so many words.
‘Truth’ was mentioned several times. Someone said I had unearthed an unspoken truth. Someone said that I had defined what they do that sets them apart. Someone said my end product was their, ‘individuality well-expressed.’ Someone said I gave them an organising idea for the business.
When you put together everything they said about their problems and everything they said about my solutions, you can see in hindsight that they gave me the idea of the ‘irresistible truth’ in rough diamond form. But they didn’t hand it to me on a plate. No one ever does.
I do detective work and creative work. The detective work is in the interviews - good questions, acute listening. The creative work is the cutting and polishing of rough diamond concepts into something elegant and compelling.
So when I went back to the same clients with this ‘irresistible truth’ idea, they could see their influence. And they confirmed that I’d done for myself what I’d done for them. They endorsed this message.
Truths are true
The thing about truths is that they’re true. That’s a truism by the way. But it’s a profound truism nonetheless. Telling the truth, once you know what it is, comes easy. Paraphrasing Mark Twain, you don’t need a good memory. You don’t need to make anything up.
It’s been easy and it’s been fun to rewrite my case studies as stories about unearthing the irresistible truth for my clients. It’s easy because they’re true stories. It’s what I’ve been doing all along. But until now I haven’t used those words to describe it.
It’s also a fun idea to play with. It’s easier to write upside down LinkedIn ads (headline at the bottom, body copy at the top) about telling the irresistible truth than it is to post about a Lowfalutin style of consulting.
Those of you who follow me on LinkedIn should prepare yourselves for a campaign (onslaught if you prefer) of truth puns.
Full circle
I had a conversation with my mentee the other day. It went something like this:
MENTEE:
I think I’ve worked out what I’m about as a consultant. I’m going to rewrite my website and ask a friend of mine to redesign it.
ME:
No you’re not…
Thanks Phil for yet another well-written and well-reasoned tale post which particularly resonates with me because as a celebrant, I'm also in the truth business.
My role is to help families tell the truth about their loved ones, and that underpins the humanist attitude not only to ceremonies but to all of life. As I was taught, a celebrant has to be part detective, part lawyer, part journalist, part diplomat and we have to develop an instinct for ‘the elephant in the room’.
In funeral meetings, we have to listen carefully. not only to everything that is being said, but also to what’s not being said. A funeral is not a trial, so nobody is obliged to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth and there are lots of things people would prefer not to mention; alcoholism, drug dependency, family breakdown, mental illness and more. Shame is a powerful emotion, which is why when I sense that a subject is being avoided, I ask my clients to tell me what it is so I can find ways to talk about it – or not talk about it, as the case may be.
My role is not to pass judgement, editorialise or to give my opinion but to speak on behalf of my clients, which is why – unlike a journalist – I send them my script so they can change them. As TS Eliot wrote, “Humankind cannot bear very much reality” and there is no doubt that euphemism can be helpful. I’ve lost count of the number of people who liked a drink more than it liked them, who were connoisseurs of exotic tobacco or who, by instinct and temperament, were essentially gentlemen of leisure.
On the other hand, I can still remember every single ceremony when the family felt able to be open about whatever the problem was, and those are the best ones of all.
Thanks (again) Tim for taking the time to post such an apposite comment. The similarities are real. Not just finding the truth but working with the family on how to tell it. Of course, the service you provide is more valuable than mine.