Efficiency ≠ Effectiveness!

I spent quite a lot of my career in radio advertising. It used to be true, and I presume it still is, that the chief means an advertiser uses to determine how much he or she is willing to pay for radio time is a tool called “Cost Efficiency.” The precise metrics and parameters may change but the concept remains the same: the buyer sets a Cost Efficiency goal which is 100% based on audience ratings — answering the basic question, “How much am I willing to pay to reach this audience?” Radio stations then compete to meet that goal: either you’re sufficiently Cost Efficient and you make the buy, or you’re not and you don’t. No hard feelings. The numbers don’t lie.

Well…they may not lie, but they do exaggerate.

Cost Efficiency only works, in my experience, for three reasons. First, it’s fairly easy to teach someone to put together a buy using some pre-determined Cost Efficiency goal as the standard. Second, a Cost Efficiency goal at least creates a level playing field, evaluating all contestants using a common standard — the device may be flawed but it’s consistent. And third, I suspect most advertisers don’t really know if their advertising actually works or not. J.C. Penney once made the famous statement, “I know that half my advertising dollars are wasted — I just don’t know which half.” People thought he was kidding, but I’m convinced he meant it. Drawing a straight line between your advertising and your cash register is a tricky business!

In other words, an advertising buy may look good on paper — it’s highly Cost Efficient — but it may not accomplish the advertiser’s goal very well at all. It’s not very Cost Effective.

I think there’s an underlying mistake we tend to make frequently in our culture — we confuse efficiency with effectiveness. The two ideas are far from synonymous. In your workplace, if you’re a manager, you may be tempted to make decisions based entirely on efficiency only to discover that what looked good on paper actually results in frustration, fatigue and burnout. Your plans aren’t effective at all! If you’re a parent, you may think scheduling your family time “efficiently” is the highest goal, only to experience a growing emotional disconnect between you and your kids, or you and your spouse. Important concepts like friendship, love, teamwork and commitment simply can’t be done “efficiently.” The process of cultivating the things that are most important in life  — our relationships — is inherently messy, ragged and inefficient. (Speaking of messy, is there an “efficient” way to raise kids, for example?) You could almost say, when it comes to relationships, that Efficiency is frequently the enemy of Effectiveness.

Sometimes as fundraisers or salespeople we have a choice: we can focus on what’s Efficient or we can emphasize what’s Effective. It’s efficient to send out the same letter to 500 recipients — it’s effective to hand-write 20 personal notes. It’s efficient to send 300 eblasts — it’s effective to make a dozen personal phone calls. Each can be important, and at times those ideas of efficiency and effectiveness can mesh nicely — but at those times where they don’t, I suggest that it’s better to be effective than efficient. What do you think?

Someday I’ll Stop Procrastinating

“I was going to stop procrastinating,” the old line goes, “but I kept putting it off.”

True Confession Time: lately I feel as though I’ve been plagued with a mild bout of procrastination. I’m not sure why, but for the past few weeks I’ve been more aware of it every time I review my To Do’s. That pesky phone call doesn’t get made. That proposal sits half-written. Those appointments are stuck on the “To Be Scheduled” list. I wonder why that is — why do I make lists and then put off the execution phase? Why do I procrastinate?

Since reflection is a great aid to procrastination (self-absorption takes time, after all), I’ve been reflecting on this situation and have come up with at least three reasons why I put things off.

The first procrastination trigger is Fear. You’d think after many years in sales and fundraising that call reluctance would be a thing of the past, but it still rears its head from time to time. Fear is grounded in self-doubt. Will I say the right thing? Will I ask the right questions? Will the prospect be in a good mood? Will I get the donation, the order, the appointment, the commitment? The fear is completely irrational, of course, but too often it’s there, lurking just beneath the veneer of confidence and self-assurance.

Complacency is probably the second reason why I procrastinate. Fundraising always has a sense of urgency — make the ask, make the month, make the quarter, plan the event — so maybe with that much background noise the tendency is to tune it out once in a while and allow myself to settle into a warm fog of complacency. So what if it doesn’t get done today? Well…it might not matter that much, unless those delayed tasks start piling up, which they inevitably tend to do. The effects of procrastination tend to be cumulative, after all!

Then there’s Distraction. Being a relational person, working around people I enjoy, I can sometimes be drawn away from the Important Task into something that’s frankly more fun! As much as I appreciate being a random “people guy,” I do admire those sequential types who successfully maintain a single-minded focus on the task at hand — they seem to be immune to the kinds of distractions that draw my attention away from what I should be doing. (Maybe I should ask my brother in law to stop sending me those YouTube links…)

Are you one of those admirably focused types? Or do Fear, Complacency or Distraction cause you to procrastinate? As for me, one of these days I plan to put a stop to it! Meanwhile, there’s a fresh pot of coffee across the hall…I’ll get back to you.

Optimists and Pessimists and Realists

I’m an unapologetic Optimist. I once took one of those personality tests at work and practically scored off the chart for optimism. The fact that my boss at the time didn’t share my affinity for the Best Possible Scenario did eventually hamper our reporting relationship…but nevertheless I remained (and remain) firmly in the Polyanna camp.

I find that most Optimists don’t mind being called “Optimists.” Not so with most Pessimists — and you know who you are. You, it seems, seem to prefer to be called “Realists.” But we Optimists know better and tend to think you so-called Realists are actually Pessimists in disguise. Oh, you’ll listen to the starry-eyed predictions of us Optimists, then shake your head in a patronizing way…and, after you’ve given us your Eeyore-like assessment explaining why our idea can’t possibly work, you’ll say, “I’m just being realistic.” I suspect many people who call themselves Realists are really Pessimists who simply refuse to own the label.

On the other hand, most of you Pessimists-in-Realists’-Clothing are no doubt convinced that we Optimists live in a dream world, conveniently divorced from reality. We orbit the ground in our Cloud of Positive Outcomes while pretending that the inexorable force of gravity that will soon bring our illusions crashing to earth doesn’t really exist. Sadly, I have to admit that you’re frequently correct. Optimism can indeed be a force to be reckoned with, but sooner or later that so-called irresistible force might crash against the immoveable object of inconvenient truth, and when that happens truth typically wins.

News flash: your workplace, your team, your family is made up of individuals all along the Good News/Bad News Optimism/Pessimism spectrum. So how can we work together to maximum advantage? First, a word to you Optimists: listen carefully to the Pessimists/Realists in your life. Are they speaking truth to you? If so, it might be time to lay aside our knee-jerk reaction and make a sober assessment of the situation. I call this the Grounded Optimist, and it’s what I strive to be. Keep the energy of the Optimist but don’t ignore the facts on the ground!

And you Pessimists? Maybe it’s time for you to experience some of the energy and enthusiasm of the Optimists in your life. Before grabbing the bucket to pour cold water on the flickering flame of an idea, see if there’s something there you can support. Will there be time later to inject a note of cautionary reason into the conversation? Probably — so be patient. Meanwhile don’t be quite so quick to roll your eyes and dismiss the “unrealistic” new idea. I suppose we could call this person the Tempered Pessimist — the person with a healthy sense of the obstacles, tempered by the belief that this new idea just possibly could work.

Optimist, Pessimist, or Realist — where are you? Our workplace, team or family needs everybody, no matter where on the spectrum you place yourself!

While You Wait

Waiting. We all have to do it. Most of us don’t like it — after all, we’re an impatient species by nature. (I once read an article that showed using hidden cameras how people waiting for an elevator become physically agitated after about 20 seconds of delay. Sounds embarrassingly familiar: “Maybe if I just hit the ‘Up’ button a few more dozen times the #$&@* thing will get here today sometime!”)

Fundraisers and salespeople are particularly bad at waiting — but since it’s a fact of our professional lives, the question comes up, “What should we be doing while we wait?” Today I learned a great answer from an unlikely source: the Old Testament book of Nehemiah.

Short version: Nehemiah was one of the captive Jews living in the city of Susa in what’s now Iran, back in the 5th century BC. Years earlier, some of the captives had been permitted to return to Jerusalem, which had been sacked by invading armies, and these Jews had sent word back to Nehemiah that the place was a wreck — especially the walls and the gates, which had been torn down and burned. Nehemiah was desolate at the news that his beloved city was in such disastrous and vulnerable shape, and he vowed to ask King Artaxerxes if he could go to Jerusalem (an 800 mile journey) to do something about it. Old Nehemiah was cupbearer to the King, which gave him personal access — but still, asking a favor like that was extremely risky. The timing had to be right — tick off the King and your life would be really short.

So Nehemiah did two things. First, he prayed for favor with the King. Second, while he waited he made plans. It took four long months before he finally got to ask Artaxerxes for permission — and amazingly, the King sounded favorably disposed. “How long will you be gone?” he asked. Nehemiah’s reply, recorded in Nehemiah 2:6, was simple: “I gave him a definite time.” He didn’t hem and haw — he knew precisely what he would say when the time came.

You see, while he waited four long months, Nehemiah had made his plans. He had figured out how long the project would take. The chapter goes on to show that he had even thought of the materials he would need and the special permits that would be required to get them. He didn’t wait passively — he waited expectantly. While he waited, Nehemiah worked.

The lesson for me is simple. What should I be doing while I wait? I should be planning and preparing so that, when the light finally does turn green, I’m ready to go with no delay. That way “waiting time” is productive time. A “timely” reminder from an ancient source!

“I Almost Got Him to a ‘Maybe.'”

Some years ago a friend of mine was sales manager for a radio station back east. One day one of his newer sales reps came back to the office all excited.

“How did the call go?” my friend asked.

“Great! Just great!” replied the young rep enthusiastically. “I made the presentation and played the spec tape and he really liked it.”

“Well,” said my friend, “did you ask for the order?”

“Yep,” replied the sales rep, beaming proudly. “And I almost got him to a ‘Maybe.'”

Having been in both sales and fundraising I can understand the young man’s excitement. To the untrained ear, “maybe” sounds so much better than “no.” And since he was a rookie sales rep his naivete can be forgiven. However (and I’m saying this to myself) one of the characteristics of a strong salesperson or a strong fundraiser is thick-skinned self-appraisal coupled with clear-eyed realism. If you ask for the order, or for the donation, and the best you can say is “I almost got him to a ‘Maybe,'” I’m afraid you’re farther from success with that prospect than you think!

My friend the sales manager gently but firmly informed his eager young protege that an “almost maybe” is a long, long way from “yes.” And I’m sure the sales rep’s enthusiasm dimmed somewhat. But he learned what all of us in sales and fundraising have had to learn: that while “yes” is best, a clear-cut “no” is typically preferable to a wishy-washy “maybe.” After all, when the prospect is completely non-committal, what’s the next step? You don’t have one.

So like we said a few posts ago, always close for something — even if the answer is “no.”

The Unqualified Compliment

Admit it — doesn’t it feel good to receive a word of encouragement? I’m thinking particularly of the workplace here. I don’t know about you but I derive quite a bit of personal satisfaction, not to mention a sense of job security (maybe too much, come to think of it) when I receive a compliment or an encouraging word from the boss. Conversely, when the boss never says anything encouraging, I find myself plagued with self-doubt. Am I not measuring up? Does he or she not like me anymore? Neurotic? Maybe…but I strongly suspect I’m not the only one. You know who you are!

Somewhere between the sound of silence from the boss and the pleasant and encouraging word of affirmation lies what I call the Qualified Compliment. I had a boss once who was the master of the Qualified Compliment — he simply couldn’t bring himself to say something encouraging without adding a stinger at the end. Examples:

  • “Nice month in January! Way to go! Of course, the rest of the quarter doesn’t look so hot…”
  • “Good work on the McDonald’s buy — nice piece of business! Why didn’t we get on Fred Meyer?”
  • “Looks like Bill is really coming around — you’re doing a good job with him! But Anne is really slipping…what’s going wrong there?”

Just once, I used to think, can’t you say something encouraging and then leave it there? I guess he feared I would get complacent…but actually his backhanded criticism sowed seeds of self-doubt. Not healthy.

Managers, here’s a thought: try giving one of your team members a compliment without qualification: an Unqualified Compliment! Then see what happens. I think you have some subordinates who will REALLY appreciate it!

Always Close for Something!

True confession time: I used to be a Professional Visitor. Or at least I felt like one.

Oh, I thought I was an account executive for a major metropolitan radio station, but more times than not it was as if I was really getting paid just to visit. I recall too many episodes spending time with certain prospective accounts, sitting in their offices exchanging pleasantries over coffee for an hour or so, only to walk away with absolutely no clue what was supposed to happen next. My Sales Manager, Mac, would ask me how the meeting went. “Great,” I would say, “I was with him for an hour!” “So,” Mac would ask, “what’s your follow-up strategy? When is the next buy up? What’s the next step with this guy?”

“Um…” I would answer, staring at my shoes. I had no clue. The client and I had talked about everything except the real reason I was there! Finally after one too many of these frustrating conversations, Mac blew a cloud of cigarette smoke my way and said to me in exasperation, “Remember — always close for something!”

Now I’m a fundraiser, but Mac’s advice still resonates. Always close for something. What could that something be? Well, a gift, obviously — but if it’s not time for that, how about closing for the next appointment? Closing for a follow-up call? Closing for a site visit? Closing for a written proposal? Closing for some information? Even closing for the next time you plan to call and say hello? Clearly we fundraisers value our relationships with our donors, but it seems to me we should always be moving those relationship gently and appropriately toward that next gift, that larger commitment, that new initiative. It’s why we’re here. I shouldn’t have that deer-in-the-headlights stare when my boss asks me what’s my next step with a significant donor.

Mac said it more than 30 years ago: “Always close for something.” Thanks, Mac — good advice that still applies!