Picture yourself at your desk shuffling through some new paperwork you've just received from one of your companies. Propped to your ear is the telephone, over which a client complains about a claims adjuster. Every few moments you acknowledge the caller with 'uh-huh' as your assistant stands by your desk awaiting your notes on that company paperwork. The client suddenly stops talking and you say, 'No problem Bob, I'll get in touch with the adjuster and straighten everything out. Don't worry!' Five minutes later, your assistant has departed with the paperwork and you dial the adjuster's phone number. Suddenly you realize that you aren't too sure of what the client's specific problem is.
Sound familiar? It happens to all of us. We fail to listen actively. We 'zone out' or allow distractions to get in the way. And six months later we get a call from another agent, who tells us that the client is now his.
For example: You're sitting with a prospect who has gone into a long explanation of the various problems he's been experiencing with his current agent and carrier. His soliloquy begins with, 'I can't believe that it's costing me $13,000 a year to blah blah blah, and when that claim was filed blah blah blah, so the customer service agent failed blah blah, and I didn't even know I had exposure in this regard but blah de blah blah.'
When you first heard about the premium, your mind began sorting through various companies that might be more competitive. This kept you from hearing all the other pains that this prospect was experiencing. After the visit, you go back to the office, get a very competitive quote from another company, and submit a proposal. You know you had the lowest bid, but somebody else got the account-someone who took the time to listen, identify the problems, and issue a proposal that had a higher premium but solved the prospect's problems.
The failure to listen extends beyond the office to the home and socializing. We become so involved in our own thoughts that nothing can penetrate our walls of self-absorption. Listening is an art, not a genetically programmed ability. To achieve it takes desire, commitment, and lots of practice.
Listening isn't confined to the spoken word, either.
I've often seen business owners send out questionnaires to assess the client's perception of their performance. As the returns come back, they fail to take the time to evaluate the 'fair to medium' responses. Instead, they obsess on the high grades, frantically trying to find splendid results to tie into a marketing campaign. Granted, a specific complaint may get attention, but not the 'so-so' grades that could indicate a larger problem.
I know one business owner who took the art of NOT listening to new heights. A manufacturer conducted satisfaction surveys of its retailers' performance, and this owner got the surveys routed to him before the manufacturer. Beset by tremendously negative replies on the surveys, he had his office manager white-out the negative replies and replace them with compliments. The manufacturer eventually discovered the ruse and yanked the franchise. Had this owner listened to the customers and instituted policies to improve performance, he would still be in business.
Just recently I experienced two separate instances of mistreatment by retail establishments. I wrote letters to the manager of each business, their corporate offices and, in one case, the licensor. In the case of the licensee (a cellular phone chain), I never got a response; they failed to 'listen' to my letter and have lost any future business from me.
The cellular phone company that licensed them, on the other hand, replied immediately. They apologized and politely asked if they could have the opportunity to set things right. I agreed, and one of their representatives came to the office and resolved the problem. They not only retained me within their cellular network, but sold me the new equipment I was going to buy from the licensee. One listened, one didn't-and thus one won, and one lost.
The other instance really surprised me. A major restaurant chain (I hate to mention names, but it's spelled C-O-C-O-'S) failed to listen to a complaint and lost this customer over nine cents. The incident was ridiculous, but to me, who spends a lot of time on marketing and communications, it was a matter of principle. While paying for dinner, the cookie display caught my eye and I said to add one to my bill. Said the cashier, 'Prices have gone up this week.' 'What do you mean?', I queried. 'The cookies are now 59 cents,' he replied. 'The sign says 50,' I said. To make a long story short, they stuck to the higher price despite the old signage, and I didn't buy the cookie. I wrote a letter and never received a response. I haven't spent any money in their restaurants since then.
Most insurance professionals pride themselves on being good to great communicators. After all, they're successful, that success was built on sales, and sales requires excellent communication skills, right? As the song goes, 'It ain't necessarily so.' True, salesmanship requires effective communication skills-but order-taking doesn't, and many a career was built in insurance's good ol' days, when salesmanship was largely a matter of taking the order.
If you aren't listening, you aren't communicating. Communication is a two-way exchange, the processing of information back and forth between two people. Preachers in the pulpit and orators on the podium are speaking. Two people exchanging thoughts over a kitchen table are communicating.
Webster defines the verb 'listen' as 'to apply oneself to hearing something, to pay attention.' Note the word 'apply'-a conscious action taken by the listener. It's not something that just happens. Listening requires effort and sometimes hard work.
Are you listening to your prospects and clients? Are you listening to your employees? Are you listening to your spouse or significant other? Are you listening to the letters and surveys? Are you listening to your company and its representatives?
Take time to listen! You may be missing a lot more than you realize, sales included.