MISFORTUNE IN THE 1980s

0184 Computerland Sales Force

My Computerland dealership very quickly became one of the leading suppliers of computer aided design (CAD) systems, quite simply because the customers (who had very sophisticated requirements) recognised that we knew what we were talking about. Indeed, our customers were quite barbed in their criticism of our competitors, who did not understand the product. It was nice that they were flattering about our expertise; but more importantly than that, they bought from us – and, initially at least, at prices higher than our competitors were offering. However, our reputation rested only on the efforts of myself and my partner – and one member of our sales team. Even so, we had some key skills at our command.

An example from another part of the business illustrates the need for expertise that this highlights. We were quoting for a network of personal computers which would eventually be worth up to £100,000. We had, in line with our customary practice (and as demanded by myself), carried out a thorough survey and produced an effective system design. To our dismay, however, the local Tandy (Computer Shack) store quoted, using its own PC `clones', at a price that was one-third less. Their offering looked sound (even to us) and they were also the existing supplier. We had been outmanoeuvred and my sales team was about to throw in the towel. I, on the other hand, hated losing any sale; let alone one worth £100,000; and I was fortunately able to persuade them to research a bit deeper. For the additional investment of just £10 we bought a manual describing the software that Tandy was offering, and my technical people read it from cover to cover. What this showed was that there were only three significant differences, and then only in the fine detail. But all three of these differences were absolutely critical in terms of the way the prospect ran his business. Armed with this information we should have easily won the sale.

But we didn’t!

The reason for this was that the rest of the sales team were – in common with most PC dealer salesmen at that time – rubbish. Most of the salesmen in my personal computer dealership were inexperienced, and were still operating in `showroom mode' (far removed from professional selling). As a result, I carefully explained (as I made calls with them) that I didn't want them to try to copy my style - for most of them such an attempt would have been a disaster. Even so, they naively registered my idiosyncratic selling style as that of a poor salesman, despite my undoubted sales successes. They eventually rationalised the problem by deciding that I must have been giving very large, hidden discounts. Needless to say, that was not the case, but their persistent disbelief illustrates the potential misunderstand­ing you may have to face.

Indeed, more typically, in the team there were two salesmen, who eventually became known as the `terrible twins'. They took the lead in all the sales meetings; explaining how the product range was impossible, how the marketing was bad, how the territories were wrong. When not in the sales meetings they spent their time advising their colleagues as to why they too wouldn't be able to make their sales, to the extent that eventually their colleagues felt that they even had to apologize when, despite the strictures of these two, they were successful in making sales. Finally I was forced to do a simple check (behind the sales manager's back) to find out how many calls these two were making. Believe it or not, between them these two had made just three calls in two weeks! It would be nice to report that I was able to teach them to be better sales professionals, but unfortunately that was not the case. As so often happens in such extreme situations, they had spent so long blaming everything and everyone else that they just couldn't see that an average of 30 minutes a week on calls must inevitably result in an efficiency around 1 per cent (which was, as it so happens, just about their performance).

The end of their sad saga came when the worst offender came to me and said – as he often did –“I can at last make a sale. All I need is a 50% discount.” This was a ludicrous discount, which would have had us bankrupt faster than we actually were. Even so, having faced this challenge too many times, I thought it would be a good lesson to see what would happen if I agreed. He nearly fell of his chair when I agreed to the discount, and rushed out to close the deal. A couple of hours later he was back. They wanted an even greater discount. Pushing the lesson to the ultimate I told him that – as a promotional offer to get into the account – I would allow him to give the PC away for free. Yet another two hours elapsed before he returned, this time demanding extra add-ons free! It was at that point I fired him and his friend. Charity can go just so far.

Perhaps the most significant thing was that after they left, the performance of the rest of the team leapt by 150 per cent. Nobody had to apologize for making a sale any longer!

At the other end of the scale, when we came to spend close to £100,000 converting the building that was to contain our PC dealership we diligently searched the directories to discover the best possible selection of contractors. In fact the contract went to a company that was not even on our list; quite simply because their salesman walked in one evening (on his way home). Having seen our lights in the building, he had not wanted to pass up a possible sales opportunity. His sale showed that he was right!

Even potentially good salesmen can have fatal flaws. Thus, one of my salesmen had an excellent knowledge of business systems. The rest of the team were impressed with his knowledge, as were his prospects, and the start of his sales campaigns were a joy to watch. The sales team, who were relatively inexperienced, were even more impressed with his skill in manipulating the customers. He smoothly diverted the difficult objections, and persuaded the prospects to accept simply presented solutions. He addressed the problem of price brilliantly. He was always able to offer the highest discounts, quite simply because he artificially inflated the standard selling prices before he applied the discounts. The unfortunate result, however, was that, after this brilliant start, his campaigns abruptly disintegrated, and his eventual success rate was abysmal.

The reason was quite simple. At the beginning of the campaign the prospects trusted him completely. He was very believable. Unfortu­nately it was inevitable that, at some time during the sales campaign, he was caught out. His competitors only had, for example, to point out that his prices were inflated and he was lost. When this happened the prospects invariably reacted very badly. After all, who really likes to find out that they have been conned? He, of course, immedi­ately had to put in a realistic proposal; and his final proposals almost always offered lower prices than anyone else, as he tried to live up to his original discount offers. But he still lost the business, because his prospects did not trust him. If you lose the trust of the prospect you have almost inevitably lost the sale, no matter how attractive you then make your offer.

This same salesman was due to run a series of computerised accounting seminars at quite a sophisticated level, for which his in-depth expertise was essential. Unfortunately, we discovered - only two days before the highly publicised seminars were due to start - that he had the worst case of stage fright I have ever come across. He simply could not stand up in front of an audience. Being in front of an audience, in any capacity, made him physically ill.

The solution turned out to be having him present from behind the audience. It emerged that he could happily present his material, just so long as the audience couldn't look at him all the time! So, with considerable trepidation, we built a presentation based on a disembodied voice floating from the rear of the conference room. Visuals were not a problem, since we were mainly using linked television monitor screens, and the few acetates were easily handled by myself at the front.

This latter aspect was eventually the key to success, for clearly there was no way that an effective presentation could be built where there was no interaction (and particularly no eye contact) with the audience, so I provided that contact by proxy. As the presentation rumbled on from the back of the room, I acted as the visual focus and the channel for audience participation, interjecting the further explanations that questions (and visual symptoms) demanded.

We gave a very flimsy excuse (related to the computer equipment) as to why the real presenter was at the back, but this was never challenged. And, I must admit, to my great surprise, and even greater relief, these 'double-headed' seminars went remarkably well, despite a handicap that at first seemed insuperable.

Another example of the importance of trust came when I was on the receiving end; buying equipment to fit out a number of conference rooms. Having done some basic research, including physically examining the alternatives at an exhibition, I had eventually made my choice. This was the supplier who was second in the market. His products were not quite as sound as those of the market leader, but the difference was not significant and the price was 40 per cent cheaper. However, when the salesman duly arrived (and did not immediately ask for the order - his first mistake) he proceeded to tell me that they were now concentrating on another range of products. Beneath his sales pitch I could just about discern that these new products were better, and even cheaper, so his initial mistake needn't have been fatal - why should I object to paying less for better quality? The problem was that instead of spending his time persuading me of the virtues of the new equipment, he explained at length just what rubbish were these previous products. This left me with a bad taste in my mouth. The products he was rubbishing were those that, until only recently, his company had been trying to persuade me to buy - and the ones that I had actually decided to buy. Thus, even though I had already made my decision, I reversed it and ended up paying the extra 40 per cent to his competitor. I could not trust a company who would happily sell me a product and, only a matter of days later, admit it was useless. There was surely every chance that the new range was just as defective.

With my sales professional's hat on I suspect that the simple reason was that they had switched supplier to one that offered them better terms . Even so, the salesman needn't have made such a mess of what still should have become an opportunity. The harsh reality was that he had managed to lose a guaranteed sale that I was merely waiting to hand to him.

As the final death knell for our own business, I came to realise just how badly organised, and badly performing, were my Computerland sales force when I arranged to receive copies of all leads when they came in. A couple of months later, I carried out an exercise to determine what had happened to these leads. I wanted to find out which was the more productive vehicle from the two magazines we had used. But I was shocked to discover that something like a third of the leads could not be accounted for. Nobody knew what had happened to them! Perhaps these had been poor leads, but maybe they were good ones that had simply gone missing among the atrocious records that these sales professionals kept. If that was the case, they might have increased their performance by up to 50 per cent for very little effort - just by keeping adequate records.

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