Short Circuits

During a sales workshop for a large, upscale construction company, I stated flatly that you can sell a luxury apartment (many hundreds of thousands of dollars) "in one round." Meaning: a person (or a couple) comes in, looks around, likes what they see, signs a draft contract and leaves a deposit, all during the very first meeting.

I do this quite a lot. For obvious teaching reasons.

I watched people start shifting uncomfortably in their chairs. Then came some whispering, then some giggling, and finally one of the participants stood up and said:

"With all due respect, Peled, you obviously haven't sold many apartments in your life... What do you think, a guy walks in, looks, decides and says 'wrap it up, I'll take it to go'...?

"Do you know how it works with apartments? First the husband comes. He looks, checks, asks questions, takes a brochure and leaves.

"If he likes it, a few days later he'll come back with his wife or girlfriend, and then they both look, get a feel for it, check things and ask questions...

"If they like it, then she comes with her mother and he comes with his mother, and then she comes with her father and he comes with his father, her brother, his brother, her friend, his friend, and only if everyone has signed off do they take a draft contract and start arguing over the specs (the type of marble in the kitchen, the flooring, faucets, sinks, electrical outlets and so on).

"If all of that goes smoothly, then their lawyer starts negotiating with our lawyer, and only then, if they reach an agreement, do they sign...

"You know what, Peled? Three months, minimum!"

I stood my ground and bent over backwards to convince them that yes, you really can sell a luxury apartment (never mind an ordinary one, of course) in one round. I pushed so hard I could barely keep talking...

At that point the group gave in (probably out of pity...) and said, "OK, fine, we'll let it go, we'll let it go, keep going..."

A week later I arrived at the Hilton in Tel Aviv (where the workshop was being held) for the next session of the same course, and found three of my students standing at the entrance, waiting for me.

"What did you want to tell me?" I asked.

"We wanted to tell you that in the week since that argument at the workshop, we sold three expensive apartments in one round!" they said.

I remember standing there at the entrance to the Hilton with tears running down my face.

The students looked at me and asked, "Why are you so emotional? You said in the workshop that it was possible, didn't you?"

I told them, "That's right. I said it was possible, but I didn't believe you'd manage to sell three apartments in one round in the very first week.

"I've sold quite a few apartments myself (the story above is just a drop in the ocean), and I've trained plenty of construction and real estate companies before you, and I didn't believe you'd pull it off like that, and so fast," I said.

"So why did you dig in your heels so hard at the workshop?" they asked.

"I dug in my heels to wipe out the most serious malfunction a salesperson can have: the thought that it's impossible!" I answered.

The moral:

One of the most serious and most common malfunctions in the sales world is avoiding attempts to close.

It's hard to find an organization where this doesn't happen to one degree or another.

There are many reasons for it. The main one: fear of hearing no. Quite a few salespeople are sure the customer will read a closing attempt as a trick, as pressure or something like that, and run for the hills... To spare themselves the feeling of failure, they avoid trying at all, and lean on a rationalization (a "logical" explanation that justifies the move, or the failure to move).

Naturally, salespeople like that sell a lot less.

The number one challenge for a sales trainer is to smash those comfortable basic assumptions and bring the team to the point where they're willing to initiate a close.

In the case described here, I used several tools, but it felt as if the attempt to bring about the change I was hoping for had failed. That's why I was so moved when I found out the enormous effort had paid off.