I Might Have a Go Myself

Dear friend,

The riddle first, as ever. Your century today, and the rival in this one is not another firm. It is the customer himself, on a Saturday, with a borrowed tool.

Two firms both quote a job in May,
Same work, same price, same time of year.
One says: you'll never manage that.
One says: you could, and here's the part.
He had a go at both, near enough.
Which firm did he ring on the Sunday?

Hold your answer. Story time.

The Story

Two firms in the same trade, and the work, all together now, was equally good. Each quoted the same sort of customer, who listened, nodded, and said the thing that empties more diaries than any competitor: I might just have a go at it myself.

The first firm did what nearly everybody does, which is to explain that he could not. It is harder than it looks. People make a mess of it. You need the proper tools, and the proper tools cost more than the job. All of it true, all of it said kindly, and every word of it heard as the same sentence: you are not capable of this.

So the man did what men do when told they are not capable. He had a go. And here is the important part: he was not stupid, and it half worked, and he spent three weekends on it and got most of the way, and he would rather have spent those weekends otherwise but was now committed to proving a point that had been handed to him by a stranger with a clipboard.

When he finally gave up on the awkward last part, he did not ring the firm that had told him he could not do it. Ringing them would have meant standing in his own hallway being right about the wrong thing.

The second firm was told the same sentence and answered it differently.

You could, honestly. Most of it is straightforward and you would manage it fine. The part that catches people is the joining at the end, which is fiddly and unforgiving, and if it goes wrong you are buying the materials twice. So here is the whole job at my price. And here is a second figure, which is me doing just that last part in an afternoon, if you would rather do the rest yourself.

Two things could happen after that and both were good.

Some customers took the second figure, did the easy nine tenths themselves over a weekend, and had him in for the afternoon that mattered. He made less on those, and he made it in four hours, and they told everybody about the arrangement because it was unusual and sensible.

And a good many, having heard exactly what was involved, looked at their own weekends and decided to pay for the lot, having arrived at that conclusion themselves rather than being pushed to it. A man who has been told honestly what a job entails is very often the man who decides he does not want to spend three Saturdays on it, and he does not resent the person who told him.

The one who did have a go rang him on the Sunday when the joining went wrong, because there was no shame in it: he had been told that was the difficult part by a man who had said he could do the rest.

The Lesson, Since You've Earned It

You cannot win an argument against a man's belief in his own competence, and you should not try. When your rival is the customer himself, every word you say about the difficulty of the work is heard as a word about him, and people do not buy from those who have just implied they are incapable. Worse, you have given him a reason to attempt it that he did not have before, which is pride, and pride will fund three weekends where interest alone would have funded none.

So concede the ground you cannot hold, honestly and early. Most of what most trades do genuinely could be done by a determined amateur with time, and saying so costs you nothing, because time is precisely what he is weighing. What you then do is tell him exactly what is involved: the hours, the order, the tool he will have to buy, and the one part that goes wrong. That account is the most persuasive thing you own, and it persuades by informing rather than by arguing.

Then price two things, not one. The whole job, and the difficult part alone. The second figure makes you useful to the man who was never going to hire you, and it converts a lost quote into a small paid afternoon and a story worth repeating. It also leaves the door wide open, which matters more than the money: when the joining goes wrong at four on a Sunday, he rings the man who never told him he could not do it.

Two cautions. Be truthful about which part is hard, since a trade that names a difficult part in order to frighten somebody is doing the first firm's work in a politer voice, and will be found out on the Saturday. And do not sulk about the half jobs. A man who paid you for one afternoon this year is a customer, and the letter about the ten days after applies to him exactly as it does to anybody else.

Three questions, and think of the last quote that ended in I might have a go:

1. What did you say next? If it was a reason he could not manage it, you handed him a point to prove and lost the right to be rung on the Sunday.
2. Which part actually goes wrong? Name it precisely: the joining, the setting out, the bit that cannot be undone. That sentence is your whole offer to the customer who wants to do it himself.
3. What is your second figure? The price for that part alone, done in an afternoon. Most trades have never worked it out, and it is the difference between a lost quote and a customer.

The Answer to the Riddle

Which firm did he ring on the Sunday?

The one that had said he could do it. Both firms quoted the same job and both lost it to a man with a free weekend, and one of them lost it by telling him he was not up to the work, which turned an idle thought into a matter of pride and closed the door behind it. The other lost the job and kept the customer, sold him an afternoon at four o'clock when the joining went wrong, and was recommended twice that summer for the arrangement rather than the work.

The verse:

Tell him he cannot, and he will,
And never ring you when it fails.
Say that he can, then name the part
That catches all of them, and wait.

Until next time. Go and work out the price of the difficult part alone, and offer it the next time somebody says they might have a go.

---

P.S. The same answer serves the customer who says he has somebody in the family who could do it. Do not run down the brother-in-law, who will be at Christmas dinner long after you are forgotten. Say that he probably could, name the part that catches people, and leave your second figure on the table for the Sunday when it is wanted.

Also in the archive: The Shallow Keel, Hoyle at the Far End of the Market and The Clear Evening.