Is Your Customer Your Hero?

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Do you admire your customers? Years ago, I was visiting a friend who owned a small business. Our conversation was interrupted by a customer. After the customer left, my friend muttered under his breath: “Cheapskate.”

Many of my friend’s customers were looking for a bargain – in fact, his business marketed itself as friendly to bargain-hunters – and yet, at bottom, my friend didn’t like working with his customers.

I recently had a chance to visit Finland, where I produced* a video showing how one of our company’s customers is bringing clean energy to the north of Finland. I’m a fan of renewable energy, but my heroes are the people who are building and operating wind parks.

Our customer treated me like family during the long day of work on the video. One of the technicians told me proudly about his wife, who also works in the wind industry. They took me on an elevator ride up to the top of one of their wind turbines (the turbine is so tall that it took around 5 minutes to get to the top!)

I don’t know if there is any quantitative evidence connecting success with admiring your customers. Certainly I didn’t have to pretend to be enthusiastic – it came across as sincere because it is. The most successful business owners I know treat their customers like kings and queens because that’s how they view them.

Are you honored to be helping your customers achieve their goals? Is your customer your hero?

*By “produced” I mean: I hired the production company that did most of the great work, and generally got in their way while they were filming.

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The Power of Kind Words

Do you ever find yourself scanning subject lines of YOUR OWN emails so you can remember what you told someone else? Yeah, me too.

Today I was looking for information I’d given to one of our best vendors. A scan of the subject lines pulled up things like “YOU GUYS ROCK,” “LIKING IT,” “ALL GOOD SO FAR,” and my favorite: “AWESOME!”

Obviously I’ve been lavish with praise to this vendor (who richly deserves it). During a complex project, I also took time to reassure him – IN ALL CAPITAL LETTERS – that things are going well.

And you know what? This vendor always goes overboard for me – cutting prices when he knows my budget is tight, doing extra work to make jobs perfect, and sometimes throwing in extra services that haven’t been asked for. Once, he even sent someone to Paris on his own dime to help me supervise a complicated project, because he knew it was my first time doing so.

A lot of us try to “Beat the Vendor” – always asking for more work, faster deadlines, a better price. Doubtless this approach can be effective.

But I like the “kind words” approach better. What about you?

Thoughts on Plagiarism

When I was in college, the administration took plagiarism extremely seriously. Any student who was proved to have copied another’s work was severely penalized. I don’t remember for sure, but I think the penalty was being “expunged” – worse than “expelled,” being “expunged” meant that the offender’s admission was revoked and all records of his having attended the school were destroyed. Being “expunged” sounded to me like being pulled out of a drain with a toilet plunger – you were the crappiest crap, so crappy that the college did not want you mixed in with their sewage.

In other words, plagiarism was such a gaspingly horrible sin that during  four years of college I never heard of a single person daring to plagiarize an academic paper.

There was one incident, relating to our student newspaper, that has stayed burned into my mind.

A student copied a piece word for word from the current edition of a popular weekly magazine  . . . and our student newspaper published the review. The offense was only talked about in hushed tones because it was considered so grave and was so embarrassing – primarily for the nature of the offense, but, as a footnote, how stupid it had been to copy something that could be so easily discovered. Rumor had it that only a personal connection between one of our paper’s editors and the publisher of the magazine had saved the student newspaper from being sued. The editor who had allowed the piece to be published walked around for weeks in a depressed fog and no one dared mention the student’s name, the incident, or the word “plagiarism” in his hearing.

As commentators here in the United States struggle either to be the cleverest in excoriating the Trump campaign for its error, or, on the other hand, to excuse or minimize the nature of the offense, we would do well to consider the impact of the public dialog on our younger generation.

Do we want students of today and tomorrow to feel it’s okay to plagiarize? Or do we want to retain the sense of shame and horror that my generation had, before a scandal was something that was erased in the next news cycle?