Positioning

Get What You Want By Finding a Spot That’s Unoccupied

When I was nine years old, I fell in love with baseball and dreamed of playing first base. To aid me in my dream, my dad bought me a first baseman’s glove. When my friends and I gathered after school for an informal ball game, everyone knew to stay away from first. That was my spot.

Then something happened to change that.

The Little League season was starting up, and I decided to join the local team. During tryouts, the manager told us kids to run onto the field and man the position we most wanted to play. I of course sprinted towards first, but was in for a shock.

Five other kids had beaten me there. Apparently, each of us had the same dream. The manager told us that to win the job we’d have to compete with one another. Before he held the competition, though, he scanned the rest of the field.

Every position had at least one kid occupying it; that is, except for catcher. No one had claimed that spot. “Who wants to catch?” the manager asked. “We need a catcher.”

Baseball on HomeAll of us froze. Catching was the sport’s most thankless position. As a catcher, even when the temperature outside hit 95 degrees, you still had to wear a helmet, chest protector, shin guards, thick metal face mask, and heavy padded glove. A hundred times a game, you needed to squat low and bolt back up. What’s more, foul balls stung you and base runners knocked you down. No one wanted to play catcher.

Which is why I was surprised when I found myself jogging towards home plate to pick up the catcher’s mitt laying there. “Good,” the manager said. “Levy will catch.”

What happened? Why did I suddenly toss aside my plan to play first base? It was out of dread. Although I’d never seen those five other kids play, my nine-year-old self was certain they were better than me, and I didn’t want to be embarrassed.

If the story ended there, it would be one of failure. But it doesn’t end there.

As a catcher, I learned how to block the plate, snag pop-ups, calm jittery pitchers, and in other ways be a credit to my position. At the season’s conclusion, I was selected –- as a catcher –- to represent my team in the All-Star game. I ended up playing a sport I love while excelling in my role.

What’s all this have to do with business? My becoming a catcher marks the first time I can remember using a strategy that has since become a cornerstone of my consulting work.

That strategy: To get what you want, find a spot that’s unoccupied.

Finding an unoccupied spot is at the heart of business positioning. After all, if you have unlimited money, talent, and connections, your business can go head-to-head with anyone in the world. If you don’t have copious resources, though, it’s best to pick a narrow-yet-important position in which you can dominate.

Finding an unoccupied spot doesn’t just work for positioning your company. It’s also a strategy that can help you write books, give speeches, and reach the media.

I’ll give you an example.

A month back, a friend (Thanks, Dan!) sent me a media query from a “Fast Company” magazine writer doing an article on how to be a good conversationalist. Getting quoted in that article would help my business. I knew, though, that dozens, maybe even hundreds, of experts would be answering that writer’s query. How could I stand out from among those other respondents?

I thought about positions. More precisely, I asked myself, “What are those other respondents likely to say?” (Which spots will be occupied?). Then I asked, “What can I say that’s different?” (Which spots will be unoccupied?)

When I thought about what the other respondents might say about being a good conversationalist, I came up with advice like “Be interested in the other person” and “Listen more than you speak.” It’s not that that advice is wrong. In fact, it’s great advice. It’s just that I’ve heard it before, so if I repeated it, I’d lower my chances of making it into the article.

Once I thought about what others would likely say, I came up with a few points about good conversation that were true yet more unusual. I emailed those points to the writer. You can see the resulting “Fast Company” article here.

What for you is the takeaway?

Whether you’re positioning your business, or creating content for a book, post, or speech, begin by asking yourself what the audience expects. If you only give them what they expect, they have no reason to listen to you.

Try finding a spot that’s unoccupied. One that’s valuable yet surprising.

 

 

Look At Your Business As If It Were a Book

Coming up with a persuasive marketplace differentiator for your business can be difficult.

One reason why: Since your business is your livelihood, creating its differentiator seems like a life-or-death decision. You tense up, thinking: “This differentiator of mine has got to be a one-of-a-kind, revenue-generating winner. Otherwise, I’m sunk.”

Trying to complete such an overwhelming exercise naturally shuts you down. The differentiator you come up with is weak. Or, you leave the exercise with no differentiator at all. What to do?

In the past decade and a half, I’ve created differentiators by the hundreds. One of my secrets: I play with how I see a client’s business. I look at it in different ways.

I even pretend that my client’s business isn’t a business at all. Instead, I pretend it’s a book.

Whether you realize it or not, your business is indeed a lot like a book.

Like a book, it has a main idea. It’s “about” something. That main idea may be sharp and distinct, or it may be broad and commoditized. It may be easy for people to talk about, or it may be fighting with other ideas, so talking about it is hard.

Your business is a book.As I study a business, I think, “Right now, what’s the main idea here, and what are all the pieces of philosophy, facts, and stories substantiating that idea? If this business had a table of contents, what would the chapters be called and in what order would they fall?”

While I’m examining things, I look for storylines that are buried, or that hadn’t been thought of before. I ask myself, “If this new storyline were brought to the fore, how would that change everything? Who would be the  readers for this new ‘book’? What would they be buying? How would they talk about it to friends?”

Consider trying this exercise for yourself.

Pretend your business is a book. Into which category would it fit? What would be its title? What about its main idea? Could you tweak that idea to make it stronger? Could you change the book’s meaning by moving a subordinate idea up front? Could you combine a series of subordinate ideas into something new and valuable? What would its cover look like?

Keep playing with the “book of your business” until you have a much stronger book than when you began.

Consider, then, how you could incorporate these rewrites into real life.

The Best Brand Story is Often Informal

Sometimes your best brand story isn’t the one you think it should be. It’s one of your throwaway stories; an informal anecdote everybody else loves, but you don’t think twice about.

I’ll explain.

I recently stopped by a pet food store. Outside sat a brand representative at a table full of a type of cat food I hadn’t seen before.

I asked the rep what made this cat food distinct from the brands inside the shop. She told me an intricate story about single-source proteins. I kind of got the gist, but not fully.

I asked where the food was made. Here’s where things changed. She said, “It’s made in Thailand. Why it’s made there is interesting.” She then told me a story.

One of the brand’s chief investors is a man who travels the world, and wherever he goes he brings along his pets — 25 cats.

During a trip to Thailand, he ran out of the food he customarily feeds his cherished cats, so he tried the local pet food. His cats wouldn’t touch it.

Disgusted, he visited a nearby food manufacturer; one that had no experience with pet food. They had only ever prepared food for human beings.

He told the manufacturer his dilemma, gave them a rough recipe, and offered to pay if they’d make a few dishes for his cats.

Obviously, the manufacturer didn’t know how the dishes would turn out. Still, they agreed to make them. The result?

All 25 cats loved the food. Couldn’t get enough of it. They enjoyed it so much, in fact, that the man contacted an entrepreneurial friend in the United States, and they started selling the Thai-produced cat food here.

I asked the young lady if that story was a formal part of the brand’s sales pitches and marketing materials? She said, no, it wasn’t a story reps were required to use. She had heard it from the head of sales, and thought it quirky and memorable.

I took a few sample cans of the cat food, and thanked her.

When I returned home, my wife asked about the cans. Do you think I talked about single-source proteins? No way. I said:

“Let me tell you the story behind this cat food. There’s this well-to-do man who travels the world, and everywhere he goes he takes along his 25 pet cats. Can you believe that?  Anyway, one day he and his cats were in Thailand and . . . “

For us  — as consultants and thought leaders — what’s the takeaway here?

In conceiving your brand story, don’t let your thinking become narrow and buttoned up. Make your mind bigger.

Yes, the people in your market need to know your value proposition, but they want to know other things, too. They want to know about you and your philosophy and how you started and what you’ve done and what you plan on doing and what drives you.

Don’t straightjacket yourself by thinking only of terse stories that demonstrate monetary value. Instead, think of all the anecdotes that bring your brand to life. The stand-up-straight professional anecdotes as well as the bed-headed informal ones.

You never know which type will take your market by storm.

(This post was inspired by a comment made by my pal Nick Corcodilos about my previous post. You can read that post and Nick’s comment here.)

Strengthen Your Business Through Journaling

When I started doing positioning a decade ago, I didn’t have a defined methodology. I worked intuitively.

I’d hang out with a client, talk to their customers, study their marketing materials, and scan their field. A few weeks, and dozens of phone calls later, we’d have their marketplace position, competitive advantages, elevator speech, talking points, and case studies.

My informal approach worked well. The client got what they wanted, and I was able to conduct business in a way that felt natural.

One day a colleague asked me how I got my results, and I told him about my loose approach. A heavy-duty structure guy, he assured me that clients would be more at ease if they knew I had a codified process with predictable steps.

Since I was relatively new to consulting, I decided to take his advice. What I didn’t want to do, though, was create a process that was phony, mundane, or that got in my way.

That’s when I turned to my old freewriting files.

Freewriting is a way of thinking onto paper that helps you get to your best problem-solving ideas. Whenever I had a client positioning project, I’d open an empty document and would use freewriting to clarify my thoughts and create ideas. It was scratchpad thinking done for my eyes only.

Fortunately, I’d saved much of this exploratory freewriting. It sat in my computer throughout dozens of throwaway documents. I sifted through them.

Not only did I discover that I, indeed, had methods I’d called upon again and again and, therefore, had a kind of rough process; I also found I’d used tactics and had insights I’d completely forgotten about. For me, reading through my rough writing was revelatory. By studying it, I created a process and steps that were based on who I was and what I actually did.

What I stumbled on, you might want to do on purpose.

That is, keep a project journal that you can write in daily or at least a few times a week. The journal can be a physical book, or a file in your computer. Whatever format you choose, use it to talk to yourself about what’s happening in a particular project.

You can, for instance, write about a session you held, a question you were asked, a piece of advice you gave, a discovery you made, an insight your client had, a road block you experienced, a process you created, a list of things to stay away from, a list of things to do again, big successes, small successes, bits of dialogue, or an image that flashed into your mind.

The act of keeping a project journal can help you immediately, as you’re doing the writing. It can also help you long after the fact – as you review it days, months, or even years later.

Consider, too, asking a client to keep a project journal. Doing so will help them work out problems, remind them of strategies and ideas that they can use over and over, and get them focused on how things are changing due to the work you’re doing together.

Each week, you could schedule time to review their journal with them. They don’t have to read the actually writing, unless they’d like to. Instead, ask them to summarize interesting findings.

By the way, make no bones about asking them to look for changes and results in their writing. Say things like, “What problems have you had? What solutions have you tried? And what results have you seen?”

If you do this enough, people start focusing on results. They start looking for progress.

Without a results-oriented focus, some people forget how far they’ve come. When you point it out to them, or when they discover it for themselves, it inspires them to do more.

Make sure you point out all the ways they’re progressing personally, their company is progressing, and their own customers are progressing.

If you or your clients have kept a project journal, I’d love to hear about it. What insights did you gain? What snags did you encounter? What might we learn from your experience?

The Red Car Trick

Besides being a business consultant, I’m also a magician. I invent illusions, design magic shows, write instructional magic books, and position performers.

If you read Seth Godin’s recent post about Steve Cohen, “The Millionaires’ Magician,” you’ve seen my work in action. Steve has been my client and friend for a decade. I positioned him, and co-created his two Off-Broadway shows, “Chamber Magic” and “Miracles at Midnight.”

Steve and I have invented several tricks I think of as theatrical. I’d like to tell you about one.

Years ago, when “Chamber Magic” was getting off the ground, Steve gave me a call. He said a New York newspaper reporter had been in the audience, was impressed, and asked to meet Steve later in the week for an interview. If the interview went well, the newspaper would devote nearly a page to the story. Steve and I took this as a challenge. An article in a New York paper was worth thousands of dollars of publicity.

During a fast brainstorm, I hit upon an idea. We drafted an email and shot it off to the reporter. The body of the message read something like this:

“Steve Cohen here. Thank you for offering to interview me. Let’s meet tomorrow in Manhattan at noon at the National Arts Club. And, if you’re game, I’d like you to participate in an experiment.

“On your way here, keep a running tally of every red car you see.

“Don’t, however, write down or mention the final figure to anyone. It should remain a secret until we meet. Just keep it fixed in your mind.

“A few additional points:

“You told me you live in Brooklyn, which is six miles from where we’ll be meeting. You have a few routes you can travel. Perhaps you’ll take the Brooklyn Bridge. Or, the Manhattan Bridge. Or, the Williamsburg Bridge. You also have the choice of dozens of avenues and streets.

“What’s more, you have several transportation methods you can use.  You can walk, cycle, rollerblade, drive, grab a cab, board a bus, ride a horse, take a helicopter, or mix and match. Each method will likely alter your route some. That’s fine. It’s your choice.

“Then, there are the cars. You decide what constitutes a ‘red car.’ It can be completely red or have just a red detail. It can be moving or parked. You can count red trucks and SUVs, too, or you can ignore them. Follow your impulse.

“Again, make sure you’re not making your counting obvious. No fingers or pads of paper. And, take precautions that you’re not being followed (check the foot traffic, the autos, and the air).

“See you tomorrow.”

The next day, Steve was waiting as the grinning reporter walked in and said: “I couldn’t sleep last night. I have a feeling you’re going to tell me how many red cars I’m thinking of.”

“Did anyone follow you?” asked Steve.

“No,” said the reporter.

“Did you see red cars?”

“I did.”

“Did you write down how many you saw, or share that figure with anyone?”

“No.”

“But you have the number safely in mind.”

“I’m thinking of the number, yes.”

“You’re not going to change it, will you? I mean, you’re a reporter and are sworn to the facts and the truth.”

“I promise I won’t change it.”

Steve picked up a business card, scribbled a figure on it with a pencil, and held the facedown card out to the reporter.

“How many red cars did you see?” asked Steve.

“61.”

When the reporter turned the card over and saw a penciled “61,” he punched and kicked the air, shouting, “Man! This almost makes me believe in real magic!”

Steve got his article.

Why did I tell this story? I told it because, well, it’s a damn good story. Its got an intriguing premise and action that unfolds on the streets of Brooklyn and New York. It’s also got a big city reporter who’s so affected by the experience that he lies awake in anticipation and nearly starts believing in miracles. What could be better?

Stories are what remains long after the show has been packed away. They’re evidence that miracles occurred.

When Steve and I come up with an illusion for him, we simplify it until we believe it’s easy for audiences to remember and talk about. If they do talk about it, great. If they don’t, we pull it from the show and start over. Everything we invent is based on the memories it provokes.

Doing tricks that lead to stories is forceful marketing. The audience acts as missionaries and carries word of the show with them.

If you dare to take the same approach in your business, you may see miracles happen there as well. Once you’ve completed a project and are heading home, ask yourself “What will remain? What will clients talk about? What will they be excited by?  What won’t they be able to forget? What will they share?”

(This post is drawn from an article I wrote for “Genii,” a venerated magic magazine published by Richard Kaufman.)

The Right Position Makes Enemies

The other day Audible sent me an email advertisement that read, “Rants & Raves: 25 Books that Have You at Extremes.” It featured audio books that had each received a considerable number of listener ratings on both ends of the rating spectrum: admiring five-star reviews and damning one-star reviews.

These bestsellers were polarizing. Each had thrilled some customers and enraged others.

For example, a five-star reviewer used “The 4-Hour Work Week” to start his own software company and live “my life as I want it.” A one-star reviewer thought some of the book’s practices “deceptive and unethical.”

A five-star reviewer said “The Five People You Meet in Heaven” is “universal in its appeal” and moved him to “good tears.” A one-star reviewer called it “a nauseating patchwork of cliché that inspires only suicide.”

In a write-up for “Exit Ghost,” a five-star reviewer called author Philip Roth “the greatest writer of all time,” and said Roth has taught him more “about my country then from any politician, history book, or New York Times’ editorial.” A one-star reviewer compared listening to Roth’s novel as “akin to root canal at the dentist.

The Audible advertisement illustrates a lesson for those of us trying to position a book, a business, or a concept: If you create something that strongly speaks to one kind of person, you’re likely going to turn off people who don’t fit that group. It’s to be expected.

In his book “PyroMarketing,” Greg Stielstra makes a similar point in talking about mushrooms:

“I hate mushrooms. I can’t stand their texture, their appearance, or their flavor. Yet – despite knowing full well they are a fungus – many of my friends and relatives love them. And what’s more, they love them for the very same reasons I hate them. They love their texture, their appearance, and their flavor. If you removed the qualities that make a mushroom a mushroom, your attempts to pacify the haters would alienate mushroom lovers. Making a mushroom less ‘mushroomy’ won’t attract both groups.” (p. 78)

The way to sell more mushrooms, then, is not to tone them down. The way to sell more mushrooms is to find those people who adore them for exactly what they are.

Jerry Garcia also used food to draw a parallel between Grateful Dead fanatics and the rest of society. Garcia compared the Dead to licorice. Some people wouldn’t touch the candy. But those who liked it, really liked it.

Know what makes you, your service, or your product valuable and different, and don’t back down from it. Get it out to the people who will love you for it.

Prepare Mexican food for Mexican food lovers. Write romance novels for romance novel readers. Create shooter games for people who stay up 24/7 playing shooter games.