What does success look like?
It sounds pretty basic, but you’ll need to ask. When you assume, well, you know how that goes.
My assumption was simple: every business wants quality. It’s right there in the mission statement, sandwiched between “excellence” and “innovation.” But what if I told you that some customers actively choose something different?
I learned this lesson the hard way. In 2005 I was working for a staffing firm, trying to establish myself as a trusted partner for a new client. Our service was straightforward, we’d find, qualify, hire, and manage technology talent so you didn’t have to.
Quality was the big lever we pulled. The staffing industry had a reputation for placing undesirables and moving them from client to client. This reputation was warranted, and I was determined to change that stigma. I figured it would be my differentiator.
I studied up and went above and beyond to make sure I was bringing the right candidates forward. They needed to be qualified, interested, and a good fit for the team. I built up quite the reputation with my recruiters because of my fanatical stance on quality—in other words, they hated working my business because I would emphatically (and cruelly) shoot down candidates that didn’t hit the mark.
The Pirate Captain
My first regular customer from this client was Brad, the director of their Software Testing organization. He was an incredible guy. Unbelievably kind, enthusiastic, and loyal. He flew a pirate flag in his office and lived by those famous words from Steve Jobs, “It’s better to be a pirate than to join the navy.” He felt like his team was aboard the Jolly Roger, and I couldn’t disagree.
We had just one problem.
He was, without a doubt, the worst customer I have ever had.
For a customer relationship to work in the staffing business, you’ve got to have a shared view of the world, at least the world of talent and hiring.
But Brad had a bleeding heart. He was convinced he could hire anyone, from any walk of life, and coach them up. And he was biased towards one particular segment of the candidate population.
Other than that, he ran one hell of a team.
The Pattern
When he had an opening, we would provide two or three potential candidates, and inevitably, he would select the worst of the three. Less experience, more job hopping, gaps in their work history. It was baffling at first, and then it became predictable.
Have you heard of The Costanza Method? In Seinfeld season 5, there’s this episode called “The Opposite” where George Costanza decides he’s going to do the opposite of whatever his instincts tell him.
He takes the world by storm, parlaying this method into promotions and dates.
Brad was just like George Costanza, except he didn’t know it, and he didn’t follow the Costanza Method. He wouldn’t do “The Opposite.” He was so predictable that I could simply stack rank our candidates, first to worst, and I knew—with absolute certainty—that he would select the last person on the list.
That may not seem like a problem. A car buyer that always chooses a lemon might make a great customer—they might be in the shop every third week cutting a check for maintenance.
But in the staffing business, if a placement is not working out, they get replaced.
The Cycle
A week or two into training, he’d call me with the bad news. “Hey, Dave. Johnny is just not working out. Can we get a few more candidates for the graveyard shift?”
And my team would go back to work. We’d recruit and recruit for the same role, which adds to our expenses, hurts the client’s marketability, and crushes our reputation. Brad’s coworkers would ask, “Why are all of your people getting fired over in the testing group?”
What could I tell them?
I was walking a fine line between my reputation and biting the hand that feeds. Could I throw the Brad under the bus? That’s not a good look. But neither is the perception of total incompetence.
The Lightning Strike
I finally confronted him. I asked why he keeps going against my recommendations. And the truth came out.
Years before, he’d hired a down and out teen mother. A wonderful woman with a checkered past. He went out on a limb for her, and it paid off. She was a hidden gem, got promoted, and because of that, Brad got the accolades for seeing what others couldn’t. It was a feel-good story that made him look smarter than all of the rest. The pirate flag was flying high. Status!
That one success had become his blueprint—his justification for ignoring conventional wisdom.
Winning the lottery once, doesn’t make playing the lottery a sound investment practice.
Now he was using me and my team to find him his next winning ticket, his next under-the-radar, unadvisable, contrarian superstar of software testing. He was trying to relive that feel good story. With my services, he could hire and fire indefinitely, with no repercussions, until he found the lightning in a bottle he was searching for.
These were temp workers, so he could cycle through as many as he liked—the only limit being his own conscience—with very little skin in the game. Just one problem. When I placed someone and they got fired, I had to make it right. My team had to recruit someone new. I had to do paperwork and get them hardware and get them network access and show them where the bathroom was.
I stood for quality; it was my differentiator, so this was crushing my whole vibe.
And all the while, his coworkers looked at me and wondered, “Why does Brad work with this guy? He can’t find any talent. Keeps placing these jokers.”
Brad was hiring based on his own motives. My recommendations were sound, if only he was looking for quality. He didn’t want on time delivery or speed or any of that. He wanted me to take the blame for his bad bets. Brad wasn’t hiring a staffing firm; he was hiring a fall guy.
And that’s why, before you get stuck in the quality trap, you’ll need to ask.
What does success look like?
You need to know why they buy.
If you enjoyed this post, please share it with a friend.
What do you think?