Why I Work for You, and Not the Other Way Around

Becky and me in Park City, Utah.

If you’re a client, you know you matter. We have a relationship. We talk about our families. You matter.

In an industry where mega-investment-firms are acquiring medium-sized firms, what tends to get lost in the churn is you, the client—the one making it all work. Integration of your needs into a bigger firm’s desires is like a chicken processing plant, where there’s not much to talk about afterward because the relationship died long ago, and you’re there for the pickin’.

Bringing in a new client takes time. It shouldn’t happen with a takeover deal. It takes care. It takes several discussions before, eventually, trust is established. That’s when our talks are like an afternoon sail off Newport, RI, in a light breeze. It’s relaxing. It’s calming. We’re enjoying the sail together, talking about the good stuff—the stuff that matters.

You shouldn’t get tense or stuck, wondering how to pronounce the name of the guy on your monthly statement. He’s not thinking about how to pronounce yours. He’s thinking about gathering assets. If he’s a fiduciary, what does he—or his army of sales reps—know about you? Do you feel like another chicken leg on the conveyor belt on the way to market?

Action Line: You deserve to be heard. Your story is worth hearing. Relationships need to be cared for and tended to like a pasture-raised hen, with all the freedom to roam her world, and not like some chunk of meat tended to by a careless worker with a blank stare along the conveyor belt.

Originally posted October 29, 2020.