Three's Company (or Don't Come and Knock On Our Door)
In the summer of 2016, I worked for a sales company (previous documented in Sale Team Six). As part of the company, I was part of a variety of campaigns, including one for cable and phone provider AT&T, or more specifically their DirecTV service. The majority of this job consisted of going door to do and trying to convince people to sign up for a cable plan, and as soon as they'd either reject me or sign up, I'd leave and move on to the next customer. It was grueling work, but it was simple and didn't require much keeping up with people.
Well, one day I'm reviewing my leads for the upcoming week, and I notice a familiar name. It's one of my cousins, but one of the ones I never see. I'll refer to him as Bill. I mention this to my supervisor (we'll call him Ted), and he remarks that family members are ripe for sales, as they usually inherently trust you, which gives you the leg up compared to random strangers. I, however, have some kind of a soul still left in me, so I really don't want to try to get Bill to sign up for a substandard cable service with a restrictive contract. Now I've got a dilemma.
A few days later, I reach the dreaded moment of interaction with Bill, giving him my usual pitch but honestly not putting much effort into it. He almost immediately stops me, and explains that AT&T people have been hounding him every week and he's gotten tired of it, and might've been interested in potentially signing up if it weren't for the sales people. Somehow, Bill has gotten it in his mind that there exists an master "do not bother" list among all sales firms that we aren't allowed to talk about, and that I can talk to someone to get him on the list. After I fail to give him a firm answer, since I actually had no idea about that, he says he has important business to get to and that we'll catch up later.
After my day is over, I tell Ted what happened and he informs me of an internal list that the company keeps of anonymous reports of all houses with "invalid" customers, which is anyone who has threatened a sales person, but that he does not recommend placing a false report on that list just to help out a cousin. Ted suggests that I can totally get Bill to sign up, and that I should keep pressing him to buy and not tell him about the list.
Ted wants a sale from Bill and he wants it fast. Bill just wants sales people to leave him alone, and seems generally indifferent to the actual product being sold. As the agent, I am trusted by both principals to resolve this difference. I have three options:
Satisfy Ted:
If I just tell Bill there isn't a list and keep pressuring him for a sale, I could probably get him to sign up. He complained about slow internet and a lack of channels he wanted, which are actual major signs we were taught that indicate a strong desire to switch cable providers. However, this would do nothing to prevent sales people coming to his door.
Satisfy Bill:
I ignore Ted's wishes, and go through the anonymous reporting process anyway. Bill is free of annoying solicitors, but I am without a sale and have disappointed Ted.
Satisfy Both:
I promise Ted admittance to the list in exchange for him signing up for DirecTV. Since he appears at the very least indifferent about this service, he is not harmed by signing up, and he is benefited by being on the list. Ted is satisfied because I made the sale, and he gets a nice big cut of my commission.
However, I am not an unbiased agent here. Both sides believe I am working in their favor, but in reality I am in need of money, and since the job is commission-only I don't have incentive to waste my time helping out a cousin whom I don't really have much of a friendship with. As slimy as it feels to do this to Bill, I choose option one and end up making the sale. Oddly enough, he messaged me on Facebook a few weeks later to thank me for stopping the sales people. Unless every person coming to his door was trying to sell him AT&T, this was a mere coincidence, but it certainly made me feel like less of a dirtbag.
I normally wouldn't respond to a student's post by making reference to one of my own. But I just wrote something (quite long) called The acceleration of turning people into objects, which takes as its third example the type of cold calling you describe in your post. When we did the Edgeworth Box, you'll recall, that exchange in the market is Pareto improving. Does that apply to the cold call marketing situation, or is a type of predatory behavior that doesn't increase social surplus at all, but merely transfers surplus from buyer to seller?
ReplyDeleteIf the latter, then the problem with your second paragraph, and I know you were trying to be light hearted in writing it but it is a problem nonetheless, is that your soul didn't extent to people you didn't know previously. Apparently, those folks you were quite willing to screw. There is something wrong with that, even if you did need the money. Was it not possible to find a job that actually produced something customers wanted?
Now that you've sold your soul (literally) I wonder if you can buy it back and then make sure that your work in the future benefits not just you, but your clients as well.
I find it hard to objectively describe the social benefits of salespeople, as I felt terrible going door to door and was very very satisfied when the summer was over. However, there was a somewhat frequent example of people being benefited by the "service" of a sales person. Every once in a while, I'd knock on a door to a house that someone had very recently moved in to, and thus had not set cable, phone, and internet. Naturally, this is something people want ASAP, but since you're stuck inside all day you might not have time to do it. If someone comes to your door with a simple form to fill out that will get you an internet connection in the next few days with a discount for singing up immediately, you're certainly going to be happy about that. However, this was a very rare example that I only witnessed two or three times. The rest of the people I saw were either people who already had a bundle of services and didn't want to go through the perceived pain of singing up for a new service that they didn't trust, or were old people who might not have had internet or cable and had no interest in ever getting them. Therefore, almost no one other than the sales firm is benefited by this form of marketing.
DeleteSales jobs seem pretty tough, and having to pitch to someone you know couldn't have made it any easier. While Ted recognized there might have been some benefit to selling to someone you know, he still should have also seen the trouble it put you through. As uncomfortable as it might have been, hopefully everybody involved understood it was all just business.
ReplyDeleteThat's a pretty tough position to be in. It's interesting how Bill is your cousin, but since you don't see him often and don't have a relationship with him, he clearly doesn't feel like family. In the end it seems like he gets the same treatment as a regular customer with only a quick moral debate.
ReplyDeleteI'm also kind of surprised that AT&T made you pitch to a relative. First of all, that seems cruel to ask an employee to do. Secondly, it seems somewhat counter productive. Even though you made the sale in the end, you still stalled it out and even considered the option of stopping them from making the sale in the future even if you didn't then.
I'm glad it worked out in the end Bill seems happy with the new service and hasn't been bothered and you got your sale as well as a little stock with your boss Ted.