Dear friend,

The riddle first, as the tradition demands. Back in the old town, in the same autumn, two barbers each had a little card printed for their regulars, offering a free shave to any man who filled one, and only one of them handed it over with the first squares already marked.

Two barbers, the same good razor and strop,
Same soap, same chair, same price for the same shave.
One gave a card of eight squares, every one bare,
One gave a card of ten, with two already stamped.
Both asked for eight more shaves before the free one.
Which card came back full?

Hold your answer. Story time.

The Story

Two barbers in the town I've never named, one under the arches by the corn exchange and one at the top of the high street where the carriers set down. Both had served their time under the same old master. Both kept a strop that shone like a conker, and both gave a shave so close you felt the air on your cheek all morning. They charged the same, opened the same hours, and kept the same sort of customer: clerks, shopkeepers, the odd farmer in on market day.

That autumn both hit on the same idea. A man who shaves himself at home is a customer lost twice a week, and a man who drifts between shops is only half a customer. So each had a small card printed to live in the waistcoat pocket, and bought a brass stamp to mark it each time the man sat in the chair. Fill the card, and the next shave was on the house.

The first barber's card had eight squares. He handed it over with the change; stamping would begin next visit. The second barber's card had ten squares. He handed it over and, before the man had it in his pocket, stamped it twice. One, he said, for this morning, and one for the last time you were in, since you're hardly new here. Anybody with a pencil could see that the two offers were the same. Eight paid shaves, then one free, in either shop.

The first card was a fair offer, and men took it gladly. Then it went into the waistcoat and began its long life there. A card with one stamp and seven empty squares looks less like a promise than a chore. Eight shaves is two months for a man who comes weekly, and two months is a long way off. Some cards went through the wash. Some men, passing the rival's door on a wet morning, went in, since a single stamp is not much to be loyal to. By Christmas the first barber had given away a handful of free shaves and was wondering whether the cards had been worth the printing.

The second card left the shop a fifth full. Its owner had not been asked to begin anything. He had been told that he had begun. By the next week it was three in ten, and a man keeps such a card where he can find it. And the barber noticed something he could not have explained. The nearer a card came to full, the sooner its owner came back. A man who came every Saturday would look in on a Wednesday as well when he had two squares to go, as though the card had a pull of its own. By Christmas the second barber had given away nearly twice as many free shaves as his rival, and was glad of every one, since each had been paid for by eight shaves in his chair.

Neither man cheated anybody. The count was the same and so was the reward. One card said, you are at the start of a long road. The other said, you are already on your way.

The Lesson, Since You've Earned It

People will finish a road they believe they are already on, so never let a customer start from nothing. A blank card asks a question every time it is looked at: am I going to bother with this? A card already marked has answered it. The man is no longer deciding whether to begin, only whether to carry on, and carrying on is a far smaller decision. People act in keeping with what they have already done, and effort already spent, even effort somebody else has credited to them, is something they are reluctant to waste.

The second thing the barber saw is just as useful. A goal pulls harder the nearer it comes. Men dawdle in the middle of a road and hurry at the end. So the long empty stretch at the start is where you lose people, and anything that brings the finish nearer is worth far more than it costs.

There is a refinement, and it is the part most traders get backwards. Early on, count what is done. Late on, count what is left. Two stamped out of ten is encouraging; eight still to go is not. But near the end the sums reverse, and two to go pulls harder than eight of ten. Either way the customer must be able to see where he stands, because not knowing is its own small burden, and people put down what they cannot measure.

Every trade has a road like this, though few of them are printed on a card. A course of twelve lessons. A building job in stages. A garden laid over a year. A subscription that only shows its worth by the third month. In each the customer begins at the foot of a long hill, and there is nearly always something already done that nobody has counted: the survey, the first conversation, the measurements taken, the details they gave you when they enquired. Count it for them. Tell them, in writing, that they are two steps into eight.

Two cautions. First, the head start must be true. The second barber stamped for a shave the man had actually had and one he had actually had before. Invented progress is a trick, and a customer who finds one trick in your dealings will look for others. Second, a head start cannot rescue a road that is simply too long. Two stamps on a card of forty is still a card of forty. If the finish is out of sight, bring it nearer, or set a small reward at the halfway mark so that the dull middle has an end of its own.

Three questions, before you next ask a customer to begin anything:

  1. What are your customers asked to finish? A course, a set of visits, a package, a first month, a form. Wherever they must return more than once, people are quietly giving up somewhere along the way.
  2. What have they already done that you have not counted? The enquiry, the visit, the measurements, the first purchase. Put it at the top of the list and mark it done.
  3. How will they know where they stand? A card, a letter, a line at the foot of each invoice. Early, tell them how far they have come. Late, tell them how little is left.

The Answer to the Riddle

Which card came back full?

The one that was already a fifth full when it left the shop. Both barbers asked for exactly eight more shaves. But one man was handed a task and the other was handed a journey already under way, and people abandon tasks far more readily than journeys.

The verse:

A card left bare is a road not begun,
A card half-stamped is a road half run.
So show them first how far they've come,
Then count them home to the final one.

Until next time. Go and find one thing your customers are asked to finish, and write down for them the steps they have already taken.

The Best Time for Marketing was Yesterday...

Ben B. Tilley


P.S. Two researchers once tried this very thing at a car wash, handing out cards that asked for eight washes, some blank and some of ten with two already stamped. About one in five of the plain cards was ever finished. Of the stamped ones it was about one in three, and they were finished sooner. People like to be further along than they thought.

Also in the archive: The Farrier's Fortieth Shoe, April and October and The Clear Evening.