Traveling Salesman - The Journey to Success

The Willy Loman Syndrome

"The only thing you got in this world is what you can sell."
On more than one occasion I have looked at myself in the bathroom mirror and saw the reflection of Willy Loman staring back at me. Even after years of successful selling Arthur Miller's character still haunts me. Why? What is it about selling, that even in the midst of success I watch my back, fearful that what was bestowed upon me one day, may be taken away the next? Success and failure often feel like two sides of the same coin. Even as I enjoy my success I can still feel the breath of failure on my neck. The only thing you got is what you can sell. But can you sell today like you sold yesterday? And all the Zig Ziglars, Tom Hopkins, Og Mandinos, and motivational books can never completely make this "fearful dichotomy" go away. For me it is--and always will be--the reality of being a salesperson. I call it the "Willy Loman Syndrome." It's a disease you have to accept, but never let it overcome you. Each new day presents a world of opportunity, or a can of worms. How you play the game determines the outcome. Some days I play it well. These are the days when trial closes simply roll off my tongue with the greatest of ease. I can pick up the phone and endear myself to that "stranger on the other line" in a matter of minutes. After months of endless hours spent trying to close a deal, it comes through and the feeling is oh, so sweet. Such are the good days.

But the bad days are equally as emotional. It is as if I can do nothing right, from the morning coffee spilled on my fresh pressed shirt, (which, in the changing, makes me late for my first appointment), to my inability to find the words that are necessary to close the contract; or to suffer the sheer disappointment of learning that the deal I thought I had, I lost to the competition. (Now I am really behind on my quota!). It is on days such as these I feel like Homer's Sisyphus, endlessly rolling the sales rock up the hill only to see it return by the sheer might of its own weight. So go the bad days. Selling! You learn to love it, or you plan to leave it.

The good and the bad days, combined, make up the life of every salesperson. "It is our lot in life," an early mentor once told me. A true salesman is destined to a life of sheer joy and utter disappointment, the highest of highs and the lowest of lows, the momentous recognition for a job well done, and the lonely self doubt that comes with every deal yet to be closed. Ironically, you cannot have one without the other. There is no supreme selling level one can achieve that will insure you days without failure or rejection-regardless of what you read. Each day you line up along side other salespeople of every size, shape, and color, "all" determined to win that deal, that day. Practice makes perfect, but it does not guarantee a win. For sales, in the end, it is an art-not a science. Each and every day we get up on the stage and perform anew.
But how does one become a salesperson? Is it passed down like a family business? Can you get a degree in sales from a fine university? It is a profession one can be proud of, or is it, a career of last resort? In all my travels I have never met an individual who introduces him or herself as a salesperson. Client Manager, yes; Senior Executive, often; Director for Strategic Accounts, certainly; Head of Global Accounts, absolutely; but never, salesman. No one in my High School said they were going off to seek their fame and fortune as a salesperson. No one in my college did either. What does that say about the profession? Is a life in sales something to be ashamed of? For many the answer is yes. When I finally decided I was going into sales a very close friend said to me, "But you could do so much better."

In general I think we honestly dislike the image of a salesperson. Salespeople are the butt of many jokes. Salespeople are often seen as a bit thick and often sleazy. We don't come across as professional enough to make it into corporate America. Being a salesperson conjures up images of Danny DeVito selling aluminum siding door to door; or the tragic character, Shelley Levene played by Jack Lemon in Glengarry Glen Ross, crying out, "if only I had the good leads." All too often, the depiction of the salesperson is of the used car variety, walking up to you in his plaid coat saying, "Have I got a deal for you." And all of these illustrations play into the overall image of the sales person. So when someone asks, "What do you do?" almost no one will respond, "I am a salesman." Is it because we don't view selling as a worthy pursuit? Or is it because we don't view it as a true profession at all? Howard Stevens of the Chally Group in his new book, "Achieve Sales Excellence," frames the problem:

Surprisingly, the vast majority of the nation's colleges and universities still do not consider the discipline of sales and selling as professional pursuits. (In academic circles, a profession is defined as a body of knowledge that has specialties, one or more "certifiable" or "licensable" bodies of expertise, and an accrediting process). Instead, most institutions of higher learning offer a smattering of sales courses, such as Introduction to Sales and Sales Management, which are mainly attended by their marketing majors.

And where does this all lead? To spotty curriculum and back street selling techniques-both of which continue to perpetuate the bad image of the salesperson. And yet, ironically, as Stevens continues to argue in his book, while the number of universities or institutions that offer degrees in sales are few and far between, "Two-thirds of college graduates now take sales jobs upon the completion of their formal education." Two thirds! More people are selling around the world than ever before, but they are going out into the cold, cruel, world of sales with little or no training or expertise, and even more importantly, without a true sense of what it will take to be successful. It's, once again, the "Willy Loman Syndrome:" you are damned if you do, damned if you don't. Even if you are successful you fear that you may one day end up like Willy, a broken down salesman lamenting about his former days of glory. And all too often it becomes a self-fulfilling prophesy.

Sales is the mystery profession. People enter it un-prepared. They don't know what to expect because, more often than not, they haven't been properly trained. Physicians do internships and residencies. Nurses have preceptors to make sure they know how to do their job. Accountants have to pass a certification exam before they can be called a CPA. But for salespeople, as one of my early bosses told me, "Anything goes. Just go out there and get yourself in trouble." Talk about a scary course in sales. Yet even today, while the selling profession has improved,sales still is an after thought in the business world-not a primary focus. Sales is not considered essential because, some believe, anyone can do it. Herein lays the problem. This is where the disease gets its start. Not just "anyone" can-or should--sell. Not everyone is destined for a life in sales. My wife hates to sell. She loves to nurse. Whenever there is something to be purchased she sends me out telling me to do the bidding saying, "make sure you get a good deal."

There are too many executives in major corporations that actually look down upon salesmen. I have been referred to on more than one occasion as a "necessary evil." Pardon me, but I totally disagree. I am (we are) absolutely necessary-and we are not, I repeat, not evil. Salesmen and women make the world go round. Without us there would be no economy. As I like to say, every company has two problems: sales and everything else. But even if we are arguably essential, we don't get recognized as such. And this image is not going to change anytime soon. Until then, the problem will persist. Any Tom, Dick, or Harry can hang out a shingle and call themselves a salesperson. Imagine if you tried this in the medical profession? You would be arrested. But not so in sales. A professional, well trained salesperson is categorized right along side Joe slick selling timeshares. There is very little regulation in sales; and there is no standard for excellence. Hence, we end up with a wide spectrum of selling talent from sleazy to professional; from bad to great; from essential to unwanted. So what's a salesperson to do? The answer is we need to learn to live with this selling reality and work to make it better. But until this perfect day arrives selling will continue to be the "mystery profession." No wonder people enter sales with fear and trepidation. Who in their right mind wouldn't?

Several years ago I had a sales associate ask me if he could buy me a drink. "Sure," I said. "I never turn down a free drink. What's up?"
"I want to talk to you-about you," he said.
"About me?" I queried.
"Well, actually, about you and me, but mostly about you."
"Are you sure we should be going out for drinks? Sounds more like we should just grab a nearby conference room. You don't have to buy me a drink to talk."

We proceeded to a conference room, sat down and closed the door. "So Charlie, how can I help you?"
"I don't get it," he said. "I am working hard but I am not getting anywhere. I look at your success and it makes me angry."
I was not expecting this comment. "Why do I make you angry Charlie?"
"Because I don't think you have anything special that I don't. You're just like me. Please don't take this wrong but you are not attractive. No one would call you tall, dark, or handsome. You don't have a commanding voice. You dress nice but I don't think anyone would pick you out of a crowd. In other words, you appear average to me. Yet, you close large deals like its no problem, whatsoever. I don't get it, and it pisses me off. I feel like I am jinxed. Regardless of how hard I try, I just can't win."

I wanted to respond, but Charlie wasn't finished.
"And then I look at an old fart like John and it really scares me. John hasn't sold anything since he got here. All I hear him talk about are the glory days of the past. Who gives a shit? What difference does it make? Who even knows if his stories are real? But then I look at him. Even if I become successful, is this where I will eventually end up?"
I didn't know what to say, or quite how to respond. Honesty was the best policy.

"Charlie, I am probably going to say this wrong so I will apologize before I begin. There is no magic wand in sales. No special potion you can take. No MoJo juice to make you successful. It's all up to you-and you alone. You cannot read a special book or take a unique class, or learn a new selling technique that is going to insure your success. All of these are important and essential, but none of them individually will make you great. And even when you do become successful there are no guarantees that you will remain that way. Look at John. It's all about the past and nothing about the present. It's sad, really sad. He's not going to make it. You know it; I know it; and he knows it. John scares me Charlie. He even makes "me" worry. Whatever he's got I don't want to catch it. I know mentally this isn't true, but emotionally I feel it. The Willy Loman syndrome is all around him."

"C'mon," Charlie responded. "You've got to be kidding. You, fail. No way. You're a great success. The million dollar machine. You have what it takes."

"Today yes," I responded. "But there are no guarantees about tomorrow. It's a whole new world in sales, each, and every day," I replied, letting the words drop as I spoke.

I could tell Charlie was trying to take it all in. "So what's the answer? That's what I really came here to talk to you about. What 'specifically' do I need to do to be successful?"

"Charlie, it's not any one thing. It's a whole bunch of little things you have to do: every day. You have to know the basics, stone cold. Tom Hopkins taught me the basics of selling. I read his book cover to cover, and then I read it again. But that's only the beginning. Then you have to pump yourself up. I read a lot of motivational and business books. My shelves are filled with them. And then you have to want to be successful more than the other guy. And don't forget rejection. Ah, rejection. You have to learn to swallow rejection like its fruit from the gods. I know it sounds masochistic but if you don't learn how to love and deal with rejection you will never be successful."

"Selling has to become your passion Charlie. It has to become your life. It must be what you do when you wake up in the morning and when you go to bed at night."

"Then there is the customer. Charlie get to know your customers intimately. Learn their problems and make them your own. Then solve their business issues."

"Wow," I said pausing. "I must sound like a rambling fool."

"Not really," Charlie responded. "I get what you are saying. And I can definitely feel your passion. I just wish you could write this all down in some coherent manner for my future reference. It would be extremely helpful. I've been around you enough to know that you love to tell stories. It seems to be the way you communicate best. And, crazy as it sounds, the stories are helpful. I have heard other salespeople in our office retell them."

"Well thanks for the compliment Charlie and you are probably right. I always say, 'I am the sum total of the stories I tell.' And tell them, I do."

"So where do we go from here?" Charlie asked.

"Let's start with these fireside chats. If you want, I will meet with you on a regular basis. I will work with you to find your unique voice in selling. And when you do Charlie, you will be great. I can sense it: you are close Charlie, really close. Don't give up. Hang in there. Believe in yourself."

The Willy Loman Syndrome was lurking all around us the day I spoke with Charlie. It tried to get the better of him and me. But we wouldn't allow it. At least, not that day. And while the syndrome continues to haunt me from time to time, it is a disease every salesperson-including myself--must learn to live with, and manage. It's just a fact of life. It never completely goes away, and if you aren't careful, it can overcome you. The disease is at its peak when you start out in sales causing you sleepless nights. It is also very strong during dry periods of selling when you haven't had a sale in awhile and you wonder if you have lost your edge. It is also very strong late in life when you reach the stage of John, the old timer in this story. He wanted to change, he needed to change, but the disease overcame him. You could almost see Willy Loman in his eyes staring back at you with his faded brochures and wrinkled suit.

But a life in sales doesn't have to end this way. Quite the contrary. Selling can be extremely rewarding both financially and spiritually. This has been my experience and my reality. Selling will never be a bed of roses; but it won't be all thorns either. In the end, it will be more like a wild roller coaster ride full of ups and downs. Sometimes you will have to hang on for dear life. Other times you will lose your lunch. But if you persevere you will reach the top, giving you time to enjoy the fruits of your labor as you take in the view and prepare for the next ride of your life.