Seth Godin's Blog, page 83

Pre-existing conditions

We all have them.

By the time we get this far, we've got bangs and bruises, things that don't work quite right, experiences that have shaped us, sometimes for the worse.

It starts early. We're all born with them and into them. Sometimes we get lucky and we're surrounded by positive role models and people who believe in us, and other times we're stuck in an uphill climb that's unfair and unproductive.

But we all have them.

And all we can do is wrestle with them the best we're able. And realize that everyone else has them too, and give them the support they deserve.

            

And we just had a winner

The local market has a sign that says, "There was a $500 Lotto winner here..."

A cursory knowledge of statistics will help you see that this doesn't matter. It doesn't make it more likely or less likely that they'll have a winner today or even tomorrow.

And yet...

And yet sales go up after a big win. And to veer to the tragic, when a friend is struck with a serious disease, we're more likely to go to the doctor.

Because proximity is truth.

The truth of experience, the truth of immediacy, the truth of it might just happen to me.

That's why the media has been such a powerful force, because it brings the distant much closer.

And why small communities of interest and connection are still the dominant force in our culture. Because people like us, do things like this.

            

Defending myself (vs. offending my self)

The reason it's difficult to learn something new is that it will change you into someone who disagrees with the person you used to be.

And we're not organized for that.

The filter bubble and our lack of curiosity about the unknown are forms of self defense. We're defending the self, keeping everything "ok" because that's a safe, low maintenance place to be.

The alternative is to sign up for a lifetime of challenging what the self believes. A journey to find more effectiveness, not more stability.

[PS The discount on the Seminar expires today.]

            

The self-healing letter of complaint

You've been wronged. The service was terrible. You went unseen, disrespected and abused. You didn't get your money's worth. The software is sloppy, the people were rude, the entire experience was lousy.

A letter to the organization is called for. At the very least, you'll get an apology, some free samples, and maybe, just maybe, they'll fix the problem for everyone who comes after you. How generous of you to dig in and share the vitriol.

Better put a sharp point on it, personalize it and make it sting.

Here's the thing: Every angry word you write is only going to confirm the story you're already telling yourself, the story that's still making you miserable. The more spite you put into the note, the worse you're going to feel. You'll relive the event again and again. And, it's pretty certain, if a human reads the note, they'll now feel lousy too. They might go home and kick their dog, it's that visceral.

To what end? Is it going to increase the chances that change happens?

Here's a different tack, a selfish one that pays off for everyone involved:

Write the most positive note you can imagine. Write about how much the brand/service/government agency means to you. Let them know just how much you trust them, how much they've helped you in the past. Lay it on thick, that's okay, it'll remind you of why you care in the first place, and it will build bridges instead of tearing them down.

Then, say, "Here's what didn't work" or "But I have an important suggestion..."

And, without adding the hurt and anger that you feel, explain what went wrong. Explain it clearly, in a useful way, but give the reader the benefit of the doubt. Assume she knows that it didn't make you happy, that it completely ruined your wedding, that you're never ever going to return. Just leave that part out.

After all, if you didn't care about them, you wouldn't bother writing a letter, would you?

Two things will probably happen:

When you hit 'send' you're going to feel better about yourself and the process you just engaged in, and
It's more likely that the long-suffering recipient of your note will actually take action

We can change the stories we tell ourselves.

            

Introducing The Marketing Seminar

Can you make change happen?

For the last five months, I’ve been hard at work at something you might be interested in.

The full details are here. The video explains what we're building together.

Enrollment is open today, and closes on May 11th. The Seminar begins now and the discussion board will be open for the next six months.

Seats are first come, first served. I hope you’ll check out all the details here. If you use the coupon code READY before end of day on May 5th, you’ll save $70 on the cost of enrollment.

Let's go.

            

When we understand

Modern marketing, the craft of getting ideas to spread, has split.

On one side are the roboticists. They test and measure and do what works. They do it with no interest in how people decide or what they believe or what story they tell themselves. Instead, they treat the human as an ant in an ant farm, a robot that does this or that. They're behaviorists.

On the other are those that seek to get to the heart of what makes us human. These marketers know that fear, shame, desire for gain and culture are the quartet that drive just about every decision. They know that Milton Friedman and Ayn Rand couldn't have been more wrong, and that truly understanding our narratives is the essence of doing work that matters, that connects, and that spreads.

There are ever more tools for folks who do the former, but the problem is that this is work that gets easier to automate and easier to hire for.

On the other hand, the ranks of people who understand, who understand well enough to lead, to decide and most of all, to see... there are never enough of these people doing the work that matters.

It takes patience and effort (but not focus groups) to develop this empathy. It's worth it.

[I've built a new course around this idea. Look for the details tomorrow.]

            

The thing about bananas

About half of all the bananas consumed worldwide come from the same tree.

Not the same type of tree. The very same tree. The Cavendish, which has no seeds, is propagated by grafting or cloning. Which means that they're all identical. If you're a mass marketer, pushing everyone to expect and like the very same thing, a thing with no variation and little surprise, this is good news indeed.

Until, of course, a fungus comes along and wipes out the entire monoculture.

It's tempting to want all your bananas to be the same. To have all your employees be clones of one another, your products to be indistinguishable commodities, each conforming to the dominant narrative of the day.

And if you're a freelancer, you're under huge pressure to be just like everyone else. It's easier to talk about what you do, easier to fit in, easier to be ignored.

But variation brings resilience and innovation and the chance to make a difference.

            

The unfairness (and wisdom) of paint

Repainting your house the same color it already was feels like a waste. It's a lot of effort merely to keep things as they are.

But if you don't do it, time and entropy kick in and the house starts to fade.

The same can be said for 1,000 elements of your organization, including your relationships with customers, staff, suppliers and technology. The way you approach your market, the skill you bring to your craft, the culture in your organization—it constantly needs another coat of paint.

Rust never sleeps.

[PS... delighted that I'll be speaking at the upcoming Convertkit event in June in Boise... Hope to see you there.]

            

Empathy is the hard part

The rest is mechanics. We're not wired to walk in someone else's shoes, it's not our first instinct.

Showing up with empathy is difficult, hard to outsource and will wear you out.

But it's precisely what we need from you.

            

Taking it for granite

Look around for a second.

Those bedrock institutions, the foundational supports you take for granted--they rarely last forever.

Nurturing and investing in the things we need and count on needs to be higher on the agenda.

Things that appear to be made of granite rarely are.