Isn’t that worth a half hour of your time?
“You are invited to take a fascinating tour, conducted by attractive hostesses, to show you how milder Chesterfield and L & M Filters are made in this great, modern cigarette factory at Sixth and Cary Streets.” (Virginia Commonwealth University Libraries)
“Do you want to make more money? Sure, we all do!”
These words of actress Sally Struthers ring out across the decades, enticing us to take up a new career in TV/VCR Repair, or maybe Learning the Personal Computer, training from the comfort of home.
I don’t know why this line sticks with me so much. Maybe it’s because I heard it approximately three million times on those ads. Maybe it’s the way the line is meant to come off a little raw and real, yet is delivered with a slight desperation and heralds the most canned pitch there could ever be.
It’s a classic sales technique to ask a question that the prospect would feel foolish or untruthful saying no to, and then trap them with it. (“But you agreed that you want to make more money! Are you saying that you want to let your family down because you didn’t complete this course in Child Day Care?”)
This technique was used on me recently from someone I had just met online. She offered me a free strategy session for my business. The idea was that I would come away with new insight into how I could build a strong online brand. “Isn’t that worth a half hour of your time?” she asked.
As a matter of fact: no. My time is actually worth more than your free strategy session, especially if you’re giving away these strategy sessions to people you’ve just met.
Now, obviously not everyone feels this way. The pitch must work if she’s using it on me, just as Sally Struthers’ ads for International Correspondence Schools must have worked in order for them to keep running. But in both cases, when I think all the way through the pitch, weighing the promise of more money against the time and money these services would cost, it is clear that the return on investment just isn’t there.
Even if we have not yet reached the pinnacle of financial independence, “free” has a cost. Our time and attention have value, too. The solicitation itself has a cost to the recipient who must endure it — after all, here I am dedicating an entire blog post to a random DM I received. It’s taking up space in my thoughts.
Fortunately, I have the wherewithal to decline this person’s offer. I know how to say no (not everyone does). I am even tempted to go a bit further: “It looks like you are devaluing your own time by offering it for free to someone you don’t even know. Would you like some ideas on how you could improve your sales funnel? I’m happy to consult with you for just $500.”
I won’t do this, satisfying though it would be. Again, the pitching must be making her more than it is costing her, or she wouldn’t be doing it. So in the end, she and I are just not a fit for each other, and I can politely decline her offer without being haughty or superior about it.
It can be very seductive to fall into the picture someone else is painting of what’s possible, especially when we’re disappointed in our current situation. Yeah, we all want to make more money. We all want to get something for nothing and find the easy way to the easy life. But everything has a price, and we have to think all the way to the end of every great deal. We ought to reflect on the implications for ourselves in the long and short term, how our choice affects others, and even how our choice will affect generations to come. That’s the practice that’s really worth your time.
