baby-sitter,
cleaning lady, or tax adviser? (Not often.)
How often do you even know the best when you find it? (Not often.)
How long are you willing to look to find the very best, when someone very
good is readily available? (Not long.)
How much more
will you pay for the very best, especially if very good is
good enough? (Not much.)
How much do you trust other people’s assessment of the “very best”? (Not
much.)
How good does anything have to be to satisfy you? (Only very good;
anything better is a bonus.)
And a critical question: How do you respond when a
service tells you it is the
very best? (Skeptically, and not very well; it sounds like bragging and puffing.)
People who conduct oral surveys for service clients quickly learn something
surprising and disappointing to their clients. If the surveyor asks: “What is the
main reason you continue to do business with this company?”
the most common
answer they hear, even from clients of superior services, is “I
just feel
comfortable with them.”
Not superiority. Not even excellence.
Just simple old leather-slippers comfort.
Our competitive culture fills us with the desire to be Number One. It’s
exciting to be part of the best; best
does have its rewards. But the assumption
that being the very best is
a necessary marketing position, much less a uniquely
powerful one, is refuted by experience: your own.
Do'stlaringiz bilan baham: