Greg's Right FIT #435

Quick notes to help you grow your business in less time with less effort. . . sometime next week. 

In this issue: 

- Thoughts on Perspective
- Being Human
- Random Stuff

Thoughts on Perspective

• When a result isn't what we expect, we look for blame. As we cast our eyes about, keep perspective. Reminding ourselves of what we can, and what we can't control; what's important, and what's not important in relation to long-term goals, helps. 
• Success doesn't suggest a reward for good living or #blessed existence. The same goes for failure. Fortune, as they say, is blind. Keep your perspective.
• Overheard this week, people overestimate what they can get done in a day, and underestimate what they can get done in a decade. 
• "A ship which looms large in the river seems tiny when on the ocean," said Seneca. Next week, test your perceptions.

Being Human - Being judged

"We tend to get what we expect.” – Norman Vincent Peale

When I ran a training center, our instructors received a stipend for high marks in student evaluations. While this seemed to make sense to all parties involved, over time the instructors felt they had no control over bad marks. The reason, they said, was because, before the student ever stepped into the class, promises were made. Usually, by aggressive salespeople. No matter how good the class was, the reviews would come back lower if these hidden expectations weren't met.

It was true. The salespeople usually talked to someone in leadership who had an expectation this training would help solve a problem. They made a decision for their staff to attend the class. The attendee may or may not have been told why they were coming to class, probably never reviewed the outline, and definitely brought their own expectations to class. This sometimes led to lower scores because the student left class saying, "it was nice, but I thought we would cover X, or Y, or Z."

We were victims of judgment by unknown criteria.

The solution

The solution was to start class by asking about students' expectations, writing them on a section of the whiteboard labeled "expectations." If the items on the expectations list were already in the course, perfect. If they were outside the scope of the course, the instructor had all day to address it. As each item was covered, the instructor went to the board, asked if the class thought the expectation was met, and crossed it off the list. Before they handed out evaluations, they'd ask, "is there anything else you were hoping we'd cover today?"

This led to instructors being happier because reviews were higher. The students were happier because their expectations were met. The salespeople were happier because the employee gave a good report to leadership. 

Why it worked

So, what was happening? Some instructors thought we were being manipulative by prompting expectations. I didn't agree. I was simply employing a mantra my salespeople have heard me say time and again. 

Don't get judged by unknown criteria. 

It's important in sales because the judgment criteria that goes into a buying decision is the difference between getting paid or not getting paid. A similar thing was happening in the classroom. It happens in an annual review. It happens in a job interview. Anytime you are being judged, it behooves you to learn the criteria for how you'll be judged. You get to the criterion by asking.

Here's what happens when you try to learn the criteria behind how you'll be judged: they'll either have it, or they won't. It's common for person doing the judging to not put much thought into their criteria for they'll be judging you. They wing it. By asking them for the criteria, they'll either tell you, or they'll say, "I don't know." If they don't know, you can ask, "would it help to know what criteria others, in similar a position, solving similar problems, have used?" 

In the classroom, the instructors didn't need to ask this last question because if the student had no expectations, what we covered in class would technically meet expectations. Good marks guaranteed. 

The lesson: don't get judged by unknown criteria. 

Random Stuff

"I firmly believe that with the right footwear one can rule the world." —Bette Midler

I'm sitting in a hip coffee shop. It's in a section of town where students hang out, based on overheard snippets of conversation and seeing their clothing choices. It's set up like an old factory. Hardwood floors, open ceiling, hanging plants, and an old bar that runs halfway along one wall. It seems if I sit here long enough, the beverages will move from stimulant to anti-stimulant. 

One of the young ladies clomps her way over to meet a friend. She moves without grace or elegance. I'm not sure if it's her or the shoes. The shoes must be fashionable, I think. I can't tell, but the rest of her looks fashionable, and no one but me seems to notice the clomping. Clomp, clomp, clomp to her friend's table. Clomp, clomp, clomp to the bathroom. Clomp, clomp, clomp to the counter and clomp, clomp, clomp all the way back. 

When I was a young manager, back in the days before full business casual, I was busy enough that my lovely bride helped with my apparel decisions. Needless to say, I looked great when wearing something she picked. My standard attire of white or blue oxford, tan or blue chino, and loafers rarely elicited a compliment. Wearing a shirt that she picked out, however, would have strangers saying, ooh, I like the buttons, or some other thing that made my cheeks flush, causing me to blurt, "uh, my wife picked it!" 

One of her visits to the department store yielded a new pair of shoes for me. They were what I would call, chunky. Black, square-toed, thicker rubber sole. Definitely fashion forward for most people, fashion way-in-the-future for this guy. I never hesitated wearing them, because by then my trainer had earned my trust. 

On the way to work, and at work, I started getting compliments. They liked my shoes. I liked my shoes. I felt great. 

Most of my reps worked in cubicles, some in offices. Part of my approach was MBWA. I walked here, I walked there, I listened, I answered questions, and made a general nuisance of myself. One day, while walking around, a rep said they had just been talking about me. Specifically, my shoes. 

"Really?" I said, holding my foot up to admire the shiny black leather. "You like them too?"

"No," she said, "we hate them," and laughed. 

After a beat she said, "we can't hear you coming!" 

It seems that in my loafers I was, well, not graceful or elegant. I clomp, clomp, clomped around the office announcing my whereabouts to everyone on the floor. The poor dears must have reflexively prepped for a visit as I approached. Now in my fancy rubber-soled shoes, they had no warning. Boom! I was there in their little computer-rear-view mirror, listening. Taking notes. Judging.

The young lady at the coffee shop is up, heading back to the counter. I know this without looking up, and have empathy for my old team. Just a tinge. They got off lucky compared to the others subjected to my behaviors.