by Tom Baugh
Similarly, monkey salesmen, rather than trying to match their customers' needs to products which fulfill those needs, instead try to convince a customer that an inferior or irrelevant product is best for them. This organization benefits from the monkey's ideas, but at the cost of their customers' long-term benefit.
This approach has become so entrenched in all of our business dealings that even the word "sales" has become tainted with visions of leisure suits, big hair, gimmicks and slogans. And cheesy TV hucksters with Jersey accents and little headsets selling paper towels for twenty-five dollars, doubling your order to your delight. True salesmanship is not this way at all. But this field has become so perverted that these images bias kids with decent intentions away from it, and instead attract the monkey collective who genuinely sees this approach as noble and worthwhile.
The sales cheese, as with many defective portions of our hijacked culture, is not the cause of the monkey collective. Instead, the cheese is a consequence of the monkey collective itself. There are just too many of them to make the cheating unprofitable. In a culture of thinking producers, this kind of salesman would never be able to find work. But, with almost four hundred million people to wade through, even reaching a small fraction of a percent of those is enough to sell millions. Matching needs to genuine features is just too much hard work.
The monkey sales organization knows how to find a constant stream of customers, and may even outperform other companies who are genuinely customer-focused. The monkey sales company provides a perceived +ΔQ, but with a long-term -ΔQ hidden inside. This would be like a tribesman selling wood to customers, who find out later that what they thought was wood is actually just a cardboard picture of wood.
"Tonga, my man, how's the family?" the salesman might begin as the customer calls to complain about the cardboard delivered to his hut. "Whoa, whoa whoa. Now, Tonga, that was some primo product which we delivered the other day. That photo was printed on only the highest quality fiber substrate you can get. I don't know where you've been getting your fuel, but I can tell you that what we sent you matches exactly the photo you saw in our product brochure. Even better, our substrate is twenty percent thicker than our closest competitor's substrate. That's like getting extra wood for free. And I know you, Tonga, you want only the finest fuel for your family. Am I right or am I right? Hey look, I don't know how long we're going to be able to stay in business giving away free stuff. I'm not supposed to tell you this, but I heard the big boys in the corner office talking about how we might have to stop. So, before they figure it out, how many more units do you want to order today? I can get them there on, say, Thursday."
We shall see in a moment the role which marketing can play to enable this approach. Engineering
In an engineering organization, the designers who create the product concepts and bring them into being are the high value idea workers. However, if those same engineers are the ones who enable the production of low-quality goods which last just long enough to cross the warranty gap, then those engineers are behaving like monkeys. An engineer's traditional job was to use his skills and knowledge to create the most value, or +ΔQ, at the least cost for a given amount of value.
Physics demands that things which you want to do require a certain amount of energy and mechanical strength in the components which do them. An ice-maker in a high-end refrigerator contains both a freezer to chill the ice, and a heater to dislodge the ice from the little buckets before dumping the moon cubes into a bigger bucket. This device needs to operate in an extreme temperature environment and handle obstruction by frost. Typically made from plastic, the materials used in these devices need to be tougher than a picnic fork. And yet, for cost savings, you might find that the material used in your icemaker is about as strong as a picnic fork which has been left in the freezer for a year. Left unplugged in a carton unused at room temperature, that icemaker may not degrade at all until the cold comes on.
Over time, materials degrade. How fast they approach failure depends on the exact materials, the operating conditions, and the configuration into which they have been designed. Using experience, an understanding of customer usage patterns and knowledge of the materials, a materials engineer can almost precisely tune the failure point of an item to fall outside the warranty period.
Now, hardly ever would management come to an engineer with a directive to "make it fail in thirteen months after sale. Assume it sits in a carton unused for six months on average before it is sold." People who go into engineering, as mentioned before, are usually so crippled by having to deal with those nasty facts all day that this would rarely motivate success. But, there are measurable cultural biases which allow such a directive to succeed in some cases, depending on the cultural background of the individual. Again, I could be accused of being a racist with this statement, although it would be more fair to say I am a culturalist. I dare anyone who would so label me to fund me to conduct a study of this phenomenon, and let's see how the facts turn out.
Instead, the way this works is that the management comes to engineering with a pre-defined product idea, as determined by focus groups who asked for a set of features. This same focus group also gave feedback as to how long a warranty period they would like, and how much they would be willing to pay for those features.
"Bob, we need to design this widget, and it has to last at least twelve months. Any less, and the customers will be unhappy. It also can't cost any more than X dollars. I want you to design a least-cost solution to get us there."
Bob then goes off and looks up materials and their specifications and cost. He also consults with some outside sales people from materials companies to find out what new innovations they might have at their disposal. This step is often overlooked, but is key for any technology development.
This is one way in which effective salesmen benefit society in a way which is often totally overlooked. Bob might tell an outside salesman about a new requirement for material which operates at zero degrees Fahrenheit. And, that this material has to take X amount of strain and shear and other forces, and needs to last at least a year while doing so. Hearing this, a wellinformed outside salesman will offer suggestions about which of his products might best suit that need. This is a great shortcut for Bob. Ask three such outside salesmen, and Bob will be presented with the best each has to offer, they wanting to put their best feet forward. Bob will then be enabled to pick the right material for the job. Otherwise, he could spend weeks looking through datasheets and still not get the best match.
A salesman like that is worth his weight in gold, and soon becomes seen as an integral part of the customer's organization. I have met many such salesmen over the years. And about ten times as many monkeys who wear the same clothes. Often, these monkeys slipped in to replace the good ones, the latter having become too expensive due to all the commissions. Commissions they earned from all the sales they have closed with all the successful customers they have enabled. Provided their customers aren't monkeys.
I have found that when a favored vendor does this, the best strategy is to immediately open the door to other vendors. Underlying the departure of that effective salesman, who has participated in your success, is a raft of other issues which you will never get to see, but which has displaced your best interest. If possible, take your business where that guy went, ignoring all inducements which the first vendor might now be promising.
Good engineers will quickly realize which salesmen are the honest ones. If Vendor A has Material Z which is not quite as good as Material Y from Vendor B, then the engineer, in general, will know this. No amount of persuasion or nice lunches will change the facts of the material. But, if Salesman A is just up-front about Material Z, and Material Y is selected for this project, you can bet that both Salesman A and Salesman B will get the call on the next project.
On the other hand, Monkey Salesman A might just throw a lot of slick marketing on Bob's desk, and hype it beyond what the data shows. Given this demonstration of uselessne
ss, the engineer is less likely to waste his time calling that guy again. Particularly if Bob spent a week blowing up brain bubbles around Material Z, or at least until his subconscious mind finally aggravated him into throwing that crap out after leading him to review the datasheet again. Regardless, Bob finds himself back at square one.
In the process, Monkey Salesman A will have taught Bob's carefully tuned subconscious mind to be hyper-cynical about him, and possibly, salesmen in general. If Bob generalizes the cynicism, he may then subconsciously, and routinely, torture all or most salesmen during meetings. Why? Just so his subconscious mind can look for those tell-tale signs reminiscent of past fraud.
One day Bob might do this in front of his boss, who doesn't understand the template which is at play to help him succeed. If the boss has a fondness for bananas, Monkey Salesman A now sees an opening with his fellow species.
"Wow, Boss, Bob there sure is looking out for you guys," Monkey Salesman A says to Monkey Boss as he walks with Boss out to his Lexus. "Yeah, well, you know how those geeks are," Boss replies. They both chuckle to themselves, knowing that this stereotype allows each to take advantage of the source of their revenue. A bond begins to form between them.
"Hey, I just remembered. I've got a reservation at Monkey Pines next Thursday, and one of my guys just called this morning and dropped out. Our company has already paid for the holes, so we might as well use it. Want to come?" lies Monkey Salesman A, knowing he had arranged this in advance. Suppliers at Vendor A see memberships at the nicest golf-courses and reservations at the best hotels and restaurants for the managers as key investments. Along with insulated cups and promotional pens for the engineers, these memberships are a heck of a lot cheaper than investing in better materials. It's all about volume, baby.
"Wow! Monkey Pines? I've been wanting to play that course for years! Sure, I'll be there!"
As Thursday arrives, Bob has been progressively more difficult to manage, continuing to resist using Material Z. Obviously aggravated by the boss insisting that he take another look at it, Bob can't articulate exactly what is going on. But, Monkey Boss doesn't understand the creative process. Accordingly, he fails to realize that the aggravation is simply Bob's subconscious mind trying to tell him to avoid this material, long before Bob is able to articulate why it is a problem.
Pushing Bob to accept Material Z, Monkey Boss is unknowingly denying Bob the opportunity to get in touch with this conflict, or even see the right data to help make his reasoning clear. A downward spiral starts as Bob resists Material Z, but can't say why. Monkey Boss sees this as unreasonable, and pressures Bob. Bob resists harder as his subconscious is screaming at him.
By the time Boss hits the links with Monkey Salesman A, he is just about ready to blow a fuse. The soothing golf course helps. "I understand, Boss, I understand. I deal with guys like that all day long," Monkey Salesman A consoles as the Boss swings. "Nice shot, when the pros play this course they like to hit that same tree to get it to bounce away from the rough like that. At some point, though, you have to ask yourself what is in the best interest of your company. Now, I know Material Z isn't perfect, nothing is. But it has passed the flavor test from the Monkey Plastic Council, and so you know they just don't hand that out."
Of course, the Monkey Plastic Council is an industry group created specifically by industry giants such as Vendor A to standardize materials to keep Bob from starting up his own boutique materials company. Monkey Salesman A lets that little explanation slide.
"All I'm saying is that Material Z is two-thirds the cost of Material Y, and is just as good in the criteria which matters. They charge a little more for Material Y because it beats out Material Z in a couple of criteria which don't matter for your project. Now, if you were building space probes I would say pay the extra cash for that. You know those trekkies, they all think they are building space probes. Nice guys, but they just don't have a mind for business," Monkey Salesman A says as he deliberately shanks the next tee-off. "Now see, you got me talking business and look what I did."
At the end of the day, as they check their scorecards, Monkey Salesman A hands Monkey Boss some brochures and says, "Hey, I brought you something that I think may help. These reports from the Monkey Plastic Council show some results of industry studies about how long people use their appliances before getting a new one. See this line here? It shows that most people get rid of their refrigerators after about two years." Taking the brochure, Monkey Boss follows through on the simple compliance strategy.
"And notice this curve. This shows that, over time, people are getting rid of their refrigerators sooner each year. You could spend the extra money for Material Y and put a space probe icemaker on it which might last for twenty years. But eighteen of those years are going to be on the trash heap. Why spend the extra money? You would just be taking money out of your company, and, ultimately, charging your customers more for something they are just going to throw away anyway."
Friday morning, Monkey Boss calls Bob into his office. Bob is understandably wary.
"Bob, I've been thinking," Monkey Boss begins. "You are right about how long Material Z will last in our icemaker," he says as Bob is suddenly caught off guard, having expected the latest in the series of one-sided arguments. Monkey Boss then asks, "Do you think a design change can make Material Z last about two years in that application?"
"Well, let me see, I suppose it might, unless..." Bob begins. Asked an objective question like that, Bob begins accessing what he can recall about the various materials, the calculations of wall thickness, the temperatures, etc. Essentially, he is trying to work a final exam in a materials class in about seven seconds. The outside world just sees this as hedging. Bob's subconscious mind starts sensing danger.
"Good, good, I wanted to get your opinion on that," interrupts Monkey Boss. "But to make it last that long we would have to increase the material thickness by about fifty percent," Bob interjects, having interpolated some natural logarithms in his head to make that estimate.
"Whatever. Anyway, write that up in a proposal and get it to me before lunch," Monkey Boss replies. "And easy on that engineering stuff, I need to show this to the product director over lunch. I don't want to put him to sleep."
Bob toddles off, and by lunch the proposal is in Monkey Boss's hands, complete with an analysis of how thick the walls would have to be to use Material Z versus Material Y. Monkey Boss grabs the folder on the way to his lunch with the director.
"I see," hums the director as he flips through the proposal. "But you know, uh, it looks like we could save twenty cents per unit if we use the Y design, and use this Material Z in it." Monkey Boss nods agreement as the director announces, "Let's do this. I'll authorize funding on this just as soon as I get back to my office."
Elated, after lunch Monkey Boss tracks down Bob at the water cooler. "Always wandering around, I see," Monkey Boss thinks to himself. "He must drink about a gallon a day."
"Hey Bob, I've got some great news!" Monkey Boss says, slapping Bob on the shoulder and popping his bubble. Bob looks confused for a moment as he slips back into conscious mind mode. "What a dork," Monkey Boss thinks silently.
"Look, I just had lunch with the director, and he's approved your design. We've got to get started on this right away," he tells the now conscious Bob, who is astonished to have been heard through. Or so he thinks. "Just one little change, though. Let's go with your Y design and put that Material Z plastic in it."
Stop the tape. At this point, what should Bob do?
Go along silently and design the icemaker as directed by management.
Document his position, then design the icemaker as directed by management.
Stand his ground until he is replaced by someone who will design the icemaker as directed by management.
Quit and get a job elsewhere.
Quit and start his own business.
None of these are attractive options, but are decisions faced by creative people in a wide range of fields, no
t just engineering. Let's explore each of these.
Go Along Silently By caving to arbitrary attempts to manipulate physics, Bob will be, in effect, signing on to something which he knows will fail. This will begin to irritate Bob's subconscious mind, which will begin to trust him less and less, and so Bob will be come less and less creative. This becomes highly destructive to Bob's self-esteem, and will eventually adopt the attitude of "I just work here."
From the point of view of monkey management, they have scored a victory all the way around. The icemaker gets designed the way that they want it, and Bob has learned his place. As an added bonus, if the icemaker fails prematurely, Bob is to blame. Any outside consultant could alight, look at the design, turn to Bob and say:
"Bob, you should have known that this would have never worked. Even your own calculations showed that the material thickness should have been thicker. What were you thinking? At best, you saved the company twenty cents per icemaker, but look how much you cost them in product returns and lost customer confidence. That's the problem with you guys, you have no head for business. I'm recommending your termination."
Document His Position, Then Go Along The only difference between this one and the previous option is that Bob once again states his case. Perhaps we imagine that he should write a memo to cover himself. The response of management?
"Bob, why is it that guys like you are never team players? You know, if you geeks had played some sports every now and then you might have learned to work well with others."
As far as the particulars of his position, monkey management always gets to fall back on:
"Bob, you said that you think the icemaker might fail in fifteen months. But, you can't actually prove that it will fail in fifteen months, can you?"
