How to Succeed by Selling Poison Fish

Takifugu rubripes, the Japanese fugu, also known as the blowfish, should not be an endangered species, given that its organs contain tetrodotoxin, said to be 1,200 times more deadly than cyanide. Ingested, it will cause certain, swift, and painful death.

But the fugu is highly endangered, because humans are eating them out of existence. Can you believe that?

The fish is Japan’s chief delicacy, immensely popular and wildly expensive– hundreds of dollars for a skimpy portion. Only chefs who have trained for years and are certified to safely remove the poisonous organs are allowed to prepare the dish. The chef-trainee’s final exam is to prepare and eat his own meal. If ever there were professionals, they are fugu chefs.

So you just have to ask yourself: Why is eating fugu so popular?

It’s surely not to satisfy a need– a serving is barely a mouthful. No, you don’t eat fugu because you need to, you eat fugu because you want to. Even after careful preparation, the flesh of the fish contains just a tiny hint of the poison, and it is said to produce tingling and euphoria. It’s the culinary equivalent of skydiving.

And therein is the lesson for professionals and entrepreneurs. People will spend as little as they can for what they need, and even then they will quibble about the price. But they will spend like drunken lords for what they want. Price is no object. As Joe Kennedy observed in the middle of the Great Depression, “Times may be hard, but everyone has a nickel for a Coke or a dime for a beer.”

This is not to suggest we all quit addressing our clients’ needs and offer only what they want. It’s much more subtle than that, but just as important. Wants, after all, are the emotional overlay of needs. To the extent that we appreciate and care for the emotional component of our interactions with clients, we win, and they win.

For the real estate lawyer, for instance, the young couple aren’t just buying Part 4 on Plan 40R-279, together with and subject to a right of way over blah, blah, blah….. In fact, they don’t care at all about the legal description. They’re buying a home, a home with dreams of children and Christmas and barbecues. The mortgage isn’t just a long and tedious contract, it’s a minefield which has them scared out of their wits. The reporting letter isn’t just a perfunctory necessity to satisfy the Law Society. Rather, it should be a warm, informative, and readable love letter from the lawyer to his very favourite clients. And they won’t forget.

The pediatrician of my Down East grandchildren is a kindly old fellow who keeps a generous supply of candy in his top drawer. He always ends the visit with an invitation to the kids help themselves. As you might guess, he’s the most popular doctor in Halifax and kids actually look forward to their visits. He has no misbehaviour problems.

Clients come to us because they have professional needs, but every one of them has wants as well. Like the fugu chef, our professional skills and judgment are critical for our clients’ well-being and safety, but if we take time to discover and satisfy the underlying humanity of the clients, we create loyalty and long-term relationships.

And that’s not a bad place to be.