Business Blog 2.0

A psychotherapist is trained to dig behind presenting problems by asking leading questions. I’ve learned to uncover the real no by looking at financial documents and asking pointed questions. But neither therapists nor I try to practice this technique on ourselves. How then can you uncover your own real problems? There are three ways.

First, you can always speak to a therapist or contact me if you have the money or inclination. I’m using the word therapist in a looser manner than it’s commonly applied. If you have what you perceive to be a personal finance problem, I’d suggest using as your therapist a fee-only financial planner (one who charges by the hour rather than taking a commission on sales) with whom you feel some rapport. If you perceive your problem to be business related, I’d look for a small-business consultant to be your therapist, finding one through the chamber of commerce, the nearest SBA office, your state’s small-business development center, the local office of the Service Corps of

Retired Executives (SCORE), or your trade association. If you perceive you have a career problem, you can ask your professional team if they can recommend any career counselors to serve as your therapist. If they don’t know of any candidates, contact the career and placement offices at the largest local college and ask for names.

Second, if you have the time you could also start writing about your problems in a journal. Writing about issues often provides sufficient distance to see things clearly. Take out a legal pad or notebook and begin describing your situation. Write down your fears and worries, as well as your goals and dreams. Describe what you think will happen if you fail and what you believe will happen if you succeed. Then, put the pad or notebook away for at least twenty-four hours. After a day’s reflection, read what you’d written. Does it make sense? Do your fears accurately reflect reality, or are they exaggerated? Viewed objectively, on the page, does it seem that you’re focusing on the right problem?

It’s obvious I don’t think it’s always necessary to speak with a therapist or someone like me. And, unless you have a rare gift for self-analysis, even months of journal writing might not lead to a breakthrough. That’s why I think the third technique is the best way for you to uncover your true problems: find yourself some problem mentors. Actually, you probably already have them, and you simply need to start using them more often.

Don’t you ask your spouse or a sibling for advice on dealing with your mother? Haven’t you gone to a friend for suggestions on a problem you’re having with your wife or husband? “When you were thinking about buying a home, didn’t you ask your parents for their opinions? Do you have a group of coworkers you rely on for help in navigating office politics? Are you often calling your mentors for suggestions about career directions? Before you make business decisions do you speak with your partner, lawyer, accountant, or your friend who runs a similar operation?

Obviously the answer to all these questions is yes. We each have an entire network of people we go to for help with our personal and business problems. Generally, however, we only turn to them for help in making decisions. My suggestion is that you turn to your network of problem mentors much earlier. Rather than asking them for opinions on how to solve your problem, ask them for opinions on what really is your problem. And listen closely. They are invariably right.

Problem mentors can uncover true problems so effectively because they have a fresh, unbiased perspective on your problem. Problem mentors can discriminate among your problems. None of your problems are right in front of them, so they’re not going to automatically lock onto whatever problem is most obvious. Since they’re not bringing the same emotional or psychological baggage to the issue as you are, they’re going to be able to tell whether a problem is real or imagined, important or minor. Since it’s your problem, not their own, their perceptions of your problem won’t be influenced by your patterns of behavior and thought.

The next time you feel you have a problem, turn to someone who knows you and whose opinion you trust. Tell her the facts. Explain what you’re feeling. And then ask her what she thinks your problem is. If she agrees with your analysis, that’s great. If she doesn’t, listen closely to what she says. She’s probably right. In either case you’ll have figured out your real no.

I need to offer one caveat, however. It can be a mistake to use your spouse or lover as a sounding board for problems with which he or she is also involved. Couples tend to naturally polarize. If one is a neat freak, the other will become a slob. If one is a spendthrift, the other will become a miser. If one is compulsively early, the other will become compulsively late. Obviously, this polarizing needn’t be as extreme as I’ve portrayed it, nor does it need to be consistent (the neat freak in the house could be the slob in the car). Still, it happens to nearly every couple. This can cause difficulties in problem solving. Your partner might not be able to overcome his or her natural tendency toward balancing you and be able to give you an unbiased analysis. That’s why it makes sense for your mate to be one of your business problem mentors, but perhaps not one of your personal problem mentors.

Hating your career is certainly problematic, but it’s a large general difficulty that encompasses a set of smaller more specific hurdles. You’re not Superman. You can’t go from the starting line to the finish tape in a single bound. Try to, and you’ll end up failing and frustrated. Instead, you need to break the race down and work at overcoming each individual hurdle. You need to divide that one giant no into a set of smaller nos.

Frustrated is an understatement for how Vince Cerano felt when he first came to see me. From his outward appearance, however, Vince seemed totally together. Impeccably dressed and groomed, with a deep tan and the handsome good looks of a young James Caan, he seemed the personification of self-confidence. The veneer crumbled after two minutes in my office. Vince began recounting an endless stream of problems, and recounting them at such a rapid rate that even I, with years of experience listening to New Yorkers, couldn’t keep up. After I finally got him to slow down I was able to piece together the story.

Vince was a home builder. For five years he had owned his own carpentry business. He was doing okay financially, but hungered for more. Vince had grown up in an upper-middle-class family. Both his parents were schoolteachers. Though they outwardly accepted his desire to work with his hands, he always sensed they were somewhat disappointed in his choice of professions. When two other contractors, a roofer and a foundation specialist, came to him with the idea of forming a partnership, he jumped at the chance.

For a few years things were great. The three partners began by buying odd lots in already developed areas and putting up individual, single-family homes. With all three of them working on each job they were able to keep costs under control and meet their deadlines. They’d take the profit from one job and use it to finance the next. Eventually they also moved into renovation work, gutting and renovating “handyman specials,” and then reselling them for a tidy profit. Finally, after five years, they bought a large plot of land in an exurban area. One of Vince’s partners had learned that a new corporate park was about to be built nearby, dramatically increasing the demand for homes. The three partners, subcontracting out much of the work, quickly built ten nouveau Victorian homes, sold them all, and made a small fortune.

From there the business boomed. It now made less and less sense for the partners to do any of the actual work themselves. In feet, the former foundation specialist bought a winter home in Florida and announced his intention of spending more time golfing than pouring cement. The now ex-roofer divorced his wife of twenty years, bought an Italian sports car he could barely squeeze into, and was spending a small fortune wining and dining, allegedly for the company. Vince’s tastes ran more to Hugo Boss suits and weekly manicures. After only two years of this type of extravagance the bottom began to fall out of the business.

Because the three partners were so busy spending money, there wasn’t sufficient supervision of one of the company’s developments. Not only was it delayed and over budget, but the final workmanship was shoddy. The first handful of homeowners who had bought off the plans and the model complained bitterly about the problems as soon as they took up residence. Vince and his partners hadn’t kept any financial cushion, and they had tapped their credit out building the development. In order to pay for the necessary repairs they needed to sell more of the homes. But the current homeowners made sure to warn every visitor about the situation. The homeowners then sued Vince’s business. The construction loan fell into arrears and the bank was threatening to take over the development. And with the business in a nosedive Vince had no income. He could no longer afford the mortgage on his own house.

Vince came to me in search of a magic bullet: a quick, painless cure to all his business problems; basically he wanted my help in turning back the clock. It took me a good hour and a half to unravel all the threads in Vince’s story. And in that time I tried to point out to him that he wasn’t facing one problem, a foiling business, he was facing a cluster of interconnected problems. I suggested that it was his attempt to solve all his problems at once that was leading to his frustration and feeling of impotence. Instead, I urged him to start examining each problem individually.

Together we compiled a prioritized list of his problems. Though he had been focusing on his business, it was clear that Vince’s most important problem was his lack of a stream of income; without money coming in the most pressing nos for Vincent were no food on his family’s table and no roof over their heads. We made getting a job his first goal. Simply by concentrating on one specific obstacle, Vince’s spirits stabilized. Within four weeks Vince found work as a construction manager for a firm he had worked for and with in the past. It wasn’t the income he was used to, but it did keep the wolves from the door. Those first two nos had been turned to yes.

Over the course of the next two years I worked with Vince, dealing with one problem after another. At one point in the process he accepted that rather than trying to save his business he should just try to disentangle himself from the whole mess. Today, Vince is in business once again, as a partner in the construction management business he first joined as an employee.

The third item on the checklist is to insure that each of your individual hurdles is framed rationally, not emotionally. All rational problems can be solved by applying logic and facts. Many emotional problems can’t be solved, only mitigated. And some emotional problems can’t be solved at all. Thankfully, all business and financial problems can, in fact, be viewed rationally. Unfortunately, the same isn’t true for all personal problems. That’s why I tell people my approach can help them solve all their business problems but only most of their personal problems.

Gloria Summers is one client I couldn’t get to frame her problem rationally rather than emotionally. Gloria had every right to be angry about her situation. A tall, willowy woman with closely coiffed auburn hair, Gloria was one of the dozen founders of New York’s most profitable public relations agency. The agency was actually a consortium of twelve different small specialized boutiques that came together under one roof to lower overhead and simultaneously expand their reach. The idea worked. Gloria’s shop wasn’t one of the larger divisions, but it was quite profitable. She had annual revenues of over $2,000,000.00. For more than two decades the consortium was a great success. That’s why it came as such a shock when Gloria was called into the president’s office one Monday and told she was fired.

Gloria had always thought of herself as an owner, even though she was technically an employee. She simply couldn’t believe what was happening. She was offered two years’ severance pay and her full pension, but she was also asked to be out of the office by the end of the week. She came to my office the first thing the next day.

After speaking with her it was clear to me that Gloria’s firing was questionable. Despite her youthful appearance, she was sixty-four years old. There had never been any previous mention of poor performance. In fact, after a three-year slide in her division’s revenues they had just rebounded to their highest level in five years. Her profit margins had always been high. It certainly appeared she was being terminated because of her age. I told her we had an excellent chance to get a very large settlement based on her not only being wrongfully terminated but also because she was a founder and de facto part owner of the business. Gloria didn’t seem to care about the money, however. Rather than the fear I usually see in recently terminated clients, Gloria displayed an eerie calmness. She said she wanted justice, nothing less.

I tried to explain to Gloria that justice was an emotional goal and she would be better off trying to get them to literally pay for what they’d done and then wipe her hands of the whole situation. She seemed to agree. I immediately drafted a letter to the president of the agency, telling him that I had been hired by Gloria and that we would be contacting him with a counteroffer.

My staff and some outside specialists started to do some research into both her case for wrongful termination and the finances of the agency. We believed we had a good case for age discrimination. In addition, while the finances were somewhat convoluted, it appeared that Gloria was a fifteen percent owner of the agency. We presented our arguments in writing to the agency and asked if they would now like to change their termination package. They did. The attorney for the agency came back with an astounding $3 million settlement offer. The outside specialists and I were ecstatic. The sum was more than we ever dreamed. Gloria, on the other hand, was unmoved.

She coolly said that if they were willing to offer $3 million that meant her ownership share had to be worth more. I tried to explain to her that, while she might be right, it would be difficult to prove in court. I added that if we went to trial it would cost a great deal of money and take a great deal of time. Gloria didn’t care. She wanted justice, whatever the cost. I tried to change her mind, but she just grew more distant. I passed her case on to a litigation specialist. That was four years ago. The case still hasn’t been settled. I don’t know how Gloria is paying her bills in the meantime. I wish her well. Still, I’m afraid that in looking for “justice” rather than a settlement she’ll never find satisfaction.

What you want to pay someone, or how much work you want to get from them, doesn’t matter. This isn’t about your wants, or even the candidates’ wants, it’s about the labor market. If receptionists are being paid at least $20,000 a year, that’s what you’ll need to pay. If they don’t have the time to do any more than light filing while doing their receptionist duties, then you can’t expect them also to reorganize and digitize your records.

Check with headhunters, employment agencies, your industry association, the editor of your trade journal, and the local chamber of commerce to learn exactly what the market rate and traditional job profile are for the kind of position you’re filling.

By offering less than market value, and simultaneously having unrealistic expectations, you’re certainly not creating an environment of trust. Actually, you’re frightening people off. You don’t need to become Mr. Rogers. You just need to have realistic expectations and offer fair value.

There’s no point in going back to the poor candidates who were desperate enough to respond to your initial offer. Why give an unattractive candidate a second chance?

This is a presenting problem. You’re actually answering your own question. If you say you don’t know whether or not to believe a candidate, you’re really saying you don’t believe them.

Don’t feel bad about distrusting a candidate. It was their role to create trust in you, and they failed. It’s not your fault, it’s theirs. Sure, you can try to check a candidate’s references, investigate his background, and determine his expertise. But if you have a gut feeling and simply don’t believe him, there’s no point in wasting any more time. It’s up to the candidate, not you, to try to turn this no around. That being said, if for some reason, despite my advice, you feel the need to give this person a try, make it clear there will need to be a trial or probationary period of, say, three months. If they work out, fine. If they don’t, they’ll be fired without receiving any severance.

At first, my practice focused on credit problems, since that was what I was teaching and writing about. However, I knew that I couldn’t be a credit specialist and still pay my own mortgage. Credit was not only too small a market, but it also had inherent problems. With all due respect and compassion, let’s face it: people with credit problems are not ideal clients or customers.

Much of my business dealt with real estate transactions and investing. It seemed natural then that I add real estate problems to my practice. It was a serendipitous decision. It was the early 1980s and the real estate market in the metropolitan New York area was starting to boom, literally. Baby boomers, those seventy-six million kids for whom America built suburbs, swimming pools, and state universities, were coming of age.

I started soliciting real estate business at the same moment the leading edge of baby boomers was shopping for their first homes. Prices began soaring, since demand was far outstripping supply. Boomers who had been raised to expect that they would do as well as, or better than, their parents, were having a hard time affording the homes of their dreams. Knowing the lending business from the inside, and holding some unconventional views on home affordability and financing, my approach meshed well with the needs of these young people. And as the father of four baby boomers I also had a rapport with them and a respect for them that many other financial and legal advisors lacked. I was able to help my new clients solve their real estate and credit problems, and in the process, empower them.

In retrospect, it was this sense of empowerment I was giving them, the knowledge that they could turn no into yes, not the specific real estate advice, that was most valuable. That is what kept bringing these baby boomers back to my office for help with other matters. Some wanted advice on starting a business. Others asked for guidance on establishing a financial plan. A few wanted tips on asking for raises or hiring contractors to renovate their new homes. Today my practice involves all these matters and a few more. In the past few years I’ve been helping negotiate employment contracts and severance packages, setting up .personal estates, mediating divorces, restructuring businesses, and reviewing business plans.

Sure, the clients who come to my office are unique in all the ways that New Yorkers are different from other Americans. They may spend more time selecting coffee beans than cars, more time dining out than grocery shopping, and more time at the gym than at home. However, in all the important ways they’re just like all other successful baby boomers, like you. They own more and better stuff than their parents did at their age, even though they’re earning less in real terms. They work in decision-making, policy-setting positions in large companies, or are running their own small companies. They read the Wall Street Journal and watch CNN. They have accountants and baby-sitters; mortgages and 401(k)s. They carry cell phones, laptops, and Teletubbies.

Rather than being based on one type of problem faced by all sorts of people, my practice has been based on all sorts of problems faced by one type of person: the middle- to upper-middle-class baby boomer. The matters I deal with, the problems I help solve, are all those that are impacting the lives of this particular, demographic group.

Looking at my practice objectively, I think I’ve been able to successfully address so many different problems for a couple of reasons.

First, I had a very eclectic career prior to going into private practice. My background as an attorney, entrepreneur, venture capitalist, and banker probably exposed me to many more different businesses and situations than most people face in their work lives. Having such a diverse background made it easy for me to see the similarities among different industries and businesses.

And second, my cancer scare enabled me to put problems in a different perspective. When you’re given a death sentence, other problems don’t look so bad. Death is a real problem; everything else is just an obstacle. I thank God every day that my death sentence was commuted. Most people who survive a death scare develop a new perspective on what really matters. Some retain it. Others lose it as the brush with mortality recedes into the background and they go on with their lives. I’ve been able to maintain my perspective on problems, not because I’m such a deep thinker, but because I spend all my working hours dealing with them.

I’ve been able to help my clients with all their varied difficulties because, thanks to my background and experiences, I’ve learned to focus on the sameness rather than on the uniqueness of their problems. I’ve learned to find the no in every situation, and use it to guide me to the yes. That knowledge has helped me come up with an approach that can solve all your business and financial problems.