I want to start this with a disclaimer: If YOU are one of my clients, I’m not talking about you. YOU are wonderful and perfect in every way.
Now that we’ve cleared that up, let me tell you why I have such an appreciation – and even perhaps an affection – for the most obnoxious clients I’ve ever met. Chances are, I’ve long since parted ways with these people but they have added tremendous value to my business.
I share this with you because we’ve all had these kinds of clients, and rather than bang our heads against walls or wallow in self-pity and misery, I want you to take a completely different perspective with me and learn what they have to teach, in their obnoxious, difficult and demanding ways, about life, business, marketing and, well, how to survive in a “people” world.
The “Can You Do It Any Cheaper?” Client
Some people will try to negotiate cost because most of us have been groomed to do it since birth. I’ve been known to ask a service provider, “Anything you can do on that price?” It’s practically a Pavlovian response.
I often wonder why we’re so quick to hammer people on the cost of their time for specialized services, but we so cavalierly hand over $50 for a few ounces of shampoo.
Anyway, there are other kinds of clients who, even if I told them something cost $1, would still ask if I could give it to them for 99¢. These types of people are never happy with the price. Both have something to teach us.
Lesson 1: I am worth my time.
Am I providing the value that can be expected for the price I charge? Do I have the expertise required to command my price? If not, I’ve got a whole other problem.
But since I know the answer is yes, I’ve learned to stick to my guns and let people know that my services have value and that I can only provide the best service and the most value possible at the price I ask.
Any industry has its “cheap” version. In my business we design and develop websites as part of our marketing programs. But web designers and developers are a dime a dozen, so when I put a price tag to a project, it’s often met with saucer-shaped eyes and a bit of mouth-gaping.
Why? Because that client knows he can get a website designed for $50, built for $100 and hosted for $7 per month. It may not be the same website, but my client doesn’t know that. He only sees the price tag. It’s my job to fill in the gaps.
If I had never met the cheapies, I would never have had the opportunity to learn the skill of distinguishing between price and value. And it is a skill. Nobody wakes up one day with a clear understanding of their value – until it is challenged.
I’ve learned to meet these types of clients head-on because I know what my time is worth. If every client just paid my price, I’d never have had the opportunity to engage in the self-examination required to truly understand and appreciate my strengths and limitations.
Your takeaway: The “cheap” service providers are not your competitors. You literally cannot compete with the cheap version of yourself, nor should you attempt to. Your job is to price and perform according to your value. The next time someone challenges you on price, it’s your job to educate him on the difference between cost and value and to differentiate your services from the low-end competition.
Lesson 2: There’s an art to negotiation.
There’s no easy formula for deriving a service cost the way a product cost can be determined. A product cost is basically the cost of production, plus a factor of overhead, marketing and distribution, plus some multiplier for profit.
The cost of services is a bit more ethereal and has to do with experience, expertise, and the amount of time and energy required.
All that means is that there is probably some wiggle room in service pricing. Sure, I could take a hard line on pricing and tell clients, “It is what it is. Take it or leave it,” and I’d be well within my rights to do that. Or I could reasonably negotiate as an act of good faith.
I’ve done both, but I can’t tell you when to do either. That’s why it’s so important to learn from clients who want to knock down the price.
I have the “cheap” clients to thank for the fact that I no longer roll my eyes or break into a sweat when someone challenges me on pricing. They’ve given me the opportunity to practice this art. I know where and when I’m willing to cut and I know when I’m not.
It’s still an art in progress, but it’s no longer a scary hair-pulling event.
Your takeaway: Before the next time someone asks you to cut your cost, ask yourself whether or not you’re willing, and if so, why? Is your price too high to begin with? Are you willing to do someone a favor? Do you want the project that badly? There are different motivations for negotiating and I suggest you know yours. Your motivation will help you control that knee-jerk reaction (What?? Cut my cost??) and negotiate effectively.
The “Can You Get That Done Tomorrow?” Client
Sometimes having someone put pressure on my time is even worse than having them put pressure on my bottom line. Time is one thing so many of us are perpetually short on. Factor in an inborn desire to please others and you’ve got a scenario that can really make a person sweat.
There’s a difference between a client asking, “How soon can you have this done?” and “Can you have this done by [insert ridiculously unattainable timeframe here]?” The first question gives me the opportunity to set a schedule, even if it’s not “soon”. The second puts me immediately on the defensive.
But those demanding clients have thrown a bucket of cold water over my head, so to speak, and really forced me to examine what I’m doing.
Lesson 1: There are never any more than 24 hours in a day.
Thanks to demanding clients who want things done now or yesterday, I’ve had the opportunity to learn my limitations. I’ve also (mostly) learned not to over-promise. Few things will make a client as unhappy – or me as completely stressed – as a missed deadline.
That’s why I fight dearly against the urge to satisfy every demand and whim, and instead to just say no.
Can I have it done tomorrow? Not even by a long shot. I’ve learned that being honest is a lot easier than being sorry. It’s also more appreciated. I cannot magically invent more time to do what needs to be done. I can only be reasonable about the time I do have.
Thanks to customers who have demanded quick results, I’ve learned not to promise them. I’ve had plenty of practice saying no.
Your takeaway: Next time a client asks you to do something quickly and your immediate reaction is a flash of internal panic, don’t ignore it. Suppress your “need to please” gene and just say no. It doesn’t come easy at first but the more you do it, the better you’ll get at it. Offer a realistic alternative instead, even if you get grumbles and complaints.
Lesson 2: I probably can’t do it by next week, either.
Setting – and missing – deadlines has taught me a lot about time management and the time it takes me to perform certain tasks. When I find myself behind the eight ball, I know it’s time to stop and ask why.
Sometimes it’s a byproduct of too much Twitter and not enough to-dos. But often I notice that things take a lot longer than I thought. Especially if I’m enjoying what I’m doing or I get wrapped up in a project, time can go a lot faster than I think.
Next thing I know, I’m assuring someone I can have that project done in half an hour – not realizing I just spent seven on the last one.
Thanks to demanding clients, I’ve not only had the chance to re-examine my commitments but I’ve had the chance to really sit down and think about how long something takes to accomplish. That makes me a lot better at giving realistic deadlines and budgeting my time effectively.
Your takeaway: Sometimes keeping a timesheet on your desk can help you figure out where your day goes. Write down what you’re doing and the time slot you’re doing it in, so at the end of the day when you look at a big gap where “played Castleville” should have been “finished project” you’ll know where you went awry. It can also help you realistically see how long a task took. You may think it was a few minutes but be surprised to learn it was a few hours.
The “Can You Just Make This One More Change?” Client
In my business, this is the equivalent of moving the living room furniture around… then moving the couch a little to the left… no, a little to the right… um, maybe back to the left… no, I liked it on the original wall better.
Constantly revising a project can result in an endless loop of tweaking and perfecting but never being done. That means someone is investing a lot of time (me) and someone is investing a lot of budget (also me – unless I’ve convinced a client to pay for the overtime).
Lesson 1: Time is money.
It’s so easy to get caught in “scope creep” especially when the changes seem so small and undemanding. Add a word here, change a color there.
I’m not talking about project-derailing changes like, “Can we skip the whole website thing and go with a Facebook page instead?” I’m talking about the little, innocuous changes that clients ask for that inspire me to answer their demands with, “Sure, no problem, give me five minutes…” And it may, in fact, only take five minutes.
But when I add those five minutes up, plus the time it takes to discuss the changes, present the changes, review the changes, and start and stop the production process in the first place, I find whole days have gone missing from my schedule.
That’s why I’d like to thank these clients for being so nitpicky; because without them, I’d never know when to stop. I’d be tweaking and perfecting and moving the living room couch until the day I went bankrupt. I’ve learned when to say no and to insist on an end-point where revisions are just that – revisions, after the project is done.
I’ve learned how to recognize the tendency to tweak when I work on my own projects, too (Blog posts? They only take me two hours!
Plus the next two hours pondering my verb selection. And the next two hours rewriting titles. And the next two hours looking for too many instances of passive voice. And…)
It’s important to set a finite and attainable goal, hit that goal and stop. Or restart if necessary, but always stop first. Never just keep going.
Your takeaway: I want you to write this down and tape it to the wall next to your desk: Every second that you spend tweaking a project without getting paid for it is another second you could be getting paid to work on another project. Next time a customer asks for just one little tweak, promise you’ll do it – separately, as soon as the project is done.
Lesson 2: Specifications are my friend.
Ah, the good old days of telling clients I’d build their website, only to be caught on a revision track with no end in sight because, as my client could argue, I didn’t say I wasn’t going to include a photo gallery and six contact forms and a Flash intro and a login page and a product database…
I exaggerate, but the reality is that without a project specification it’s not entirely unreasonable for a client to demand new features and revisions and additional content. Without a specification, there’s no way to know whether what I think a project entails is the same as what my client thinks it entails.
Thanks to clients who wouldn’t let me get away with vague project parameters, I have learned to be clear and specific. I tell people what they get. And I tell people what they don’t get. It’s never a perfect process, but the more detailed I can be, the less likely a client can say, “But you never told me…”
This is true of any project, whether you’re a web designer, photographer or plumber. If you don’t tell your clients what to expect, and conversely what not to expect, I guarantee you they will default to expecting the most and the best.
Your takeaway: Make two lists in every project contract. The list of things you’ll do and the list of things you won’t do. Here’s a cheat for those of you who know that you’ll never cover all contingencies: Include this one short line in your project contracts: “Any task or item not specifically referenced or offered in this proposal will be included at the discretion of [your company].” One sentence has given you the flexibility of saying, “No, I did not include that in the project,” or “Sure, I’ll include that, no problem.” (You may want an attorney to help you with the wording but that’s the gist.)
The “I Don’t Like Anything You Did” Client
Oh the joys of being a complete and dismal failure. Of presenting something to a client only to have her tell me she hates everything about it. She hates my logo design. She hates my photography. She hates that sentence or the green or the marketing plan I put together.
Some of these people are just chronic complainers. Some of them have a “vision” in their head of how they would do something and therefore how they expect me to do something. Yes, I thank them both.
Lesson 1: My career as a psychic will never get off the ground.
Wouldn’t it be nice if, through some magic process of psychic osmosis, I could read my customers’ minds and figure out exactly what they want? A lovely fantasy but in the meantime, I’m stuck doing my best to turn conversations and specifications into an outcome that makes my clients happy.
So I’d like to thank those miserable, unhappy clients for prompting me to be doubly and triply sure that we both understand expectations. Part of this is having a good specification so nobody is unhappily surprised by results. Part of it is making sure that I spend time talking with my client, getting their input and understanding their needs.
I’ve learned never to take anything for granted, but always to ask – however small and trivial the question – to be sure that I’m clear about what I understand, and that the client is clear about what I’m doing.
Your takeaway: Head off conflicts by having clear project parameters and a good contract and by taking the time to get to know your client so that you’ll understand her vision and expectations. The best thing I can tell you to do is to write it down. Every interview, every word, every question and answer. If you have a document that both you and your client can work from, you’ll never be stuck trying to defend yourself as you splutter through explanations of what you thought she said on your last phone call three days ago. A simple email follow up… “Just to confirm in today’s call, we agreed that…” can save tremendous headaches later.
Lesson 2: I can’t please everyone.
Sometimes a miserable, unhappy client is just miserable and unhappy. It could be a personality thing. It could be that we just don’t hit it off. It could be nothing but bad luck. Whatever the source, nothing is going to please some clients and it’s important to know when it’s time to walk away.
When we’ve reached a point of irreconcilable differences, when it’s not fun anymore and my client is one misplaced breath away from punching me in the head, I swallow my ego and admit to losing the battle.
But remember, losing is not failing, because I’ve still learned something. I’ve learned how to handle a worst-case situation. I’ve even learned some humility. I’ve learned to re-examine my processes and abilities to be sure that I’m providing the best service I can. I’ve learned to suck it up and walk away confidently if I know I’ve done everything I can but still been unable to please.
I thank these clients for teaching me that sometimes I won’t succeed and not every client is an opportunity for a glowing testimonial.
I’ve also learned that it’s important to keep evaluating and perfecting my services because however “right” I may think I am, there is always room for improvement. Without a couple of ego-blows, I would never have worked on improving myself.
Your takeaway: Make sure your contracts have an “escape clause” that assures all parties involved that nobody is tethered for life or until empty wallets do you part. Then, when a project goes so far south that you know there’s no recovering, you have a process for calling it quits. Once you’re done, I want you to evaluate what went wrong and honestly assess whether there was anything you could have done. Whether the answer is yes or no, you’ve learned something.
I hope you’ve related to some of these scenarios and that you can take a look at your rotten ex-clients and see how much they’ve taught and strengthened you. The only truly bad experience is one that we don’t learn from.
How about you? Do you have any nightmare-client scenarios that you can look back on in hindsight with (new-found) appreciation?