Seth Godin's Blog, page 259

Self-destructive instructions

If you ever have to say 'lighten up' to someone, you've failed twice. The first time, when you misjudged an interaction and the other person reacted in a way you're unhappy with, and the second time, when you issue this instruction, one that is guaranteed to evoke precisely the opposite reaction you're intending.

I'll add "I was joking," to this list, because it's an incredibly lame excuse for a failed interaction.

One more: Raising your voice while you say, "You're just going to have to calm down!" (And I'll add librarians yelling at kids to be quiet...)

It's completely valid to come to the conclusion that someone else can't be a worthy audience, conversation partner or otherwise interact with you. You can quietly say to yourself, "this guy is a stiff, I'm never going to be able to please him." But the minute you throw back instructions designed to 'cure' the other person, I fear you're going to get precisely the opposite of what you were hoping for.

(Generally speaking, the word "oh" is so neutral, it's a helpful go to pause while you wait for things to calm down.)

The certainty premium

How much would you pay for an envelope that had a 50% chance of containing $10 and a 50% chance of being empty?

Over time and in bulk, probably $4.99. But certainly not more than $5.

Here's where it gets interesting: how much extra would you pay for a plane that was guaranteed to be always on time, or a surgery that was always guaranteed to work? Suddenly, the same math that helped us value the envelope doesn't work so well. That's because we're often willing to pay a significant premium to avoid risk.

"Works every time" is a great promise to make to your boss. And it's the secret to Fedex's original success. Plenty of people send things by Fedex that don't need to get there superfast. They just need to get there for sure.

Doesn't work if you have to slip in the world 'almost' though.

A culture of testing

Netflix tests everything. They're very proud that they A/B test interactions, offerings, pricing, everything. It's almost enough to get you to believe that rigorous testing is the key to success.

Except they didn't test the model of renting DVDs by mail for a monthly fee.

And they didn't test the model of having an innovative corporate culture.

And they didn't test the idea of betting the company on a switch to online delivery.

The three biggest assets of the company weren't tested, because they couldn't be.

Sure, go ahead and test what's testable. But the real victories come when you have the guts to launch the untestable.

Raising expectations (and then dashing them)

Have you noticed how upbeat the ads for airlines and banks are?

Judging from the billboards and the newspaper ads, you might be led to believe that Delta is actually a better airline, one that cares. Or that your bank has flexible people eager to bend the rules to help you succeed.

At one level, this is good advertising, because it tells a story that resonates. We want Delta to be the airline it says it is, and so we give them a try.

The problem is this: ads like this actually decrease user satisfaction. If the ad leads to expect one thing and we don't get it, we're more disappointed than if we had gone in with no real expectations at all. Why this matters: if word of mouth is the real advertising, then what you've done is use old-school ad techniques to actually undercut any chance you have to generate new-school results.

So much better to invest that same money in delighting and embracing the customers you already have.

Obedience and the GPS

My Garmin gave me a route to the airport, but I had a hunch it was mistaken. So I went my way.

As I turned left instead of right, I heard her voice hectoring me, beseeching me to go right.

And I confess, I felt terrible. I was disobeying. Not following instructions.

If it's gotten to the point where we are uncomfortable disobeying a 3 inch by 4 inch touchscreen, then you know we've been brainwashed. It's actually okay (in fact, quite possibly productive) to call out the Garmins, the bosses and the influencers in your life, and ignore them all you like.

Sarah Jones and me

Just announced: Tony award winner Sarah Jones and her many invented friends are going to interview (for lack of a better term) me on-stage at the Nuyorican in New York City on January 18th. There are just a few tickets available.

Sarah is a genius and an artist and a hero of mine. I'm thrilled to be asked. It'll certainly not be what you expect.

"I've got your back"

These are the words that entrepreneurs, painters, artists, statesmen, customer service pioneers and writers need to hear.

Not true. They don't need to hear them, they need to feel them.

No artist needs a fair weather friend, an employee or customer or partner who waits to do the calculus before deciding if they're going to be there for them.

No, if you want her to go all in, if you want her to take the risk and brave the fear, then it sure helps if you're there too, no matter what. There's a cost to that, a pain and risk that comes from that sort of trust. After all, it might not work. Failure (or worse! embarrassment) might ensue. That's precisely why it's worth so much. Because it's difficult and scarce.

Later, when it's all good and it's all working, your offer of support means very little. The artist never forgets the few who came through when it really mattered.

Who's got your back? More important, whose back do you have?

Lost in a digital world

Allison Miller, aged 14, sends and receives 27,000 text messages a month. Hey, that's only about sixty an hour, every hour she's awake.

Some say that the problem of our age is that continuous partial attention, this never ending non-stop distraction, addles the brain and prevents us from being productive. Not quite.

The danger is not distraction, the danger is the ability to hide.

Constant inputs and unlimited potential distractions allow us to avoid the lizard, they give the resistance a perfect tool. Everywhere to run, everywhere to hide.

The advantage of being cornered with nowhere to turn is that it leaves you face to face with the lizard brain, unable to stall or avoid the real work.

I've become a big fan of tools like Freedom, which effortlessly permit you to turn off the noise. An hour after you haven't kept up with the world, you may or may not have work product to show as a result. If you don't, you've just called your bluff, haven't you? And if you do, then you've discovered how powerful confronting the fear (by turning off the noise) can be.

Ten years ago, no one was lost in this world. You had to play dungeons and dragons in a storm pipe to do that. Now there are millions and millions of us busy polishing our connections, reaching out, reacting, responding and hiding. What happens to your productivity (and your fear) when you turn it off for a while?

Consider the category of 'without apology'

A cop with a Surefire flashlight doesn't have to say to her partner, "I'm sorry my flashlight isn't so bright." It's made without compromise for people who won't compromise.

There are high margins in the business of high-end flatware, for people who don't want to apologize for the lack of an asparagus fork when they have fancy company over.

One of the most vibrant segments of the stereo business is the category of products that are ridiculously expensive (and really good).

Where's the cell phone headset that will appeal to people who don't want to apologize for the quality of their cell phone connection?

People will go out of their way to buy and recommend products that don't require an apology.

The sure-fire recipe for business success

Wait, I was confused. There's a sure-fire recipe for delicious chocolate chip cookies. There is in fact a magic formula.

For businesses, not so much. There isn't one secret, one process, one solution. Instead, there are a thousand or maybe a million.

It's not a jigsaw puzzle, it's a strand of DNA, easily rearranged and sometimes it even works.  For a while.