Death of a salesman nation

Whatever its complicated and ambivalent historical roots, the ideal of Thanksgiving is offering gratitude for the grace of our creator, if you swing that way, or at the very least to others who came together to create even a moment of common purpose and bounty. It's about looking outside ourselves.

The problem of American holidays being ever more commercialized is old. But over the past decade, maybe longer, something else has overtaken us. We've gone from a nation with hucksters to being a nation of hucksters. Suffice it to say that this was not the great commercial republic that Hamilton had in mind. In God We Trust? No. Always Be Selling.

I thought of this as I read a Washington Post piece on how banking regulators were not actually regulating the industry, but rather acting as an advocate for it. Yes, ideology and its handmaiden deregulation are to blame for the financial catastrophe. But so is the perverse mutation of American optimism just as the economy became driven more and more by financial swindles.

Financial institutions went from the generally dour and careful trustees -- born of the Great Depression -- to used-car salesmen (and I apologize to the latter for the analogy -- the car guys may have better ethics). "Fee income" encouraged brokers to steer clients into costly and inappropriate investments, many now turned to dust. Banks ratcheted up the same, as they pushed into risky fields their predecessors would have spurned. Huge fees and bonuses for investment bankers led to a massive consolidation of American industry, with an accompanying loss of American industrial might, good jobs and community well-being. On and on.

And at every step, the salesman's optimism was the ruling credo -- from the smartest guys in the room with their computer models to the poor slobs in the call center trying to hawk another product that customers didn't need or want. "Everything's fine!" Those who raised questions, or wondered about the loss of time-tested prudence, were ridiculed as dinosaurs and quickly ridden out. The apex of all this, of course, was the real estate bubble and the mortgage swindle. The shameful poster child is Citigroup, which is now being bailed out by the taxpayers with no meaningful strings attached.

None of this happened overnight. But at some point, the American economy seemed to dwindle down to three broad job classifications: a technological elite; those involved in the building and selling of houses, and everybody else who was selling something. This was a "service economy." All else, including the muscular jobs that actually produced things of value that could be sold on the world market, was in decline. Everybody needed to be in sales.

One of the smart people in Phoenix, one of those "business leaders," said to me in 2004, "We sell services to each other. We don't really produce anything. But it seems to work." Of course that optimism was premature.

The press was not immune to this. By the 1990s, newsrooms were under relentless pressure to be part of the selling machine, breaking down the essential wall (as decent papers) between the advertising department and the news department. Thus the proliferation of news-you-can-use and "home" sections, etc., at the expense of real public service journalism. Always be selling. (If only publishers had focused on a new advertising business model while investing in the intellectual capital of the newsroom, but that's another column.) Business sections were pressured to go soft, with "personal finance news" and features on retailing. No wonder our profession was largely asleep for the 2001 tech bust and the current disaster. Nor were readers innocent: I can't count the number of times people asked me why I couldn't write "something more positive." I always thought reality and the facts were positive, but never mind. (Even "World is Flat" Friedman seems to have finally wised up).

So here we are. Sales is a tough business -- particularly doing it honorably with products of real value -- and most people aren't cut out for it. A national economy is particularly ill-suited for it.  It's no coincidence that the rise of Huckster Nation coincided with stagnant wages, declining benefits, lower economic mobility, rising income inequality, and now an event that will leave America significantly poorer.

The positive news is that we can begin to turn this around, but it will take sacrifice, new thinking and a grounding in reality. If you don't buy this argument, I won't be surprised. I was always a lousy salesman.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Comments

[Joanna]

Happy Thanksgiving yourself Mr. Talton. Do you remember what the desert smells like when it rains? Well, it's raining today. Keep up the good work.

[soleri]

The past couple of decades levitated individuals from the social matrix that bore them. We all became players in a massive con game, self-congratulating over appreciating home values and mutual-fund gains. Econoporn replaced hard work and some necessary reminders that the price we don't pay today might be exacted more sternly later on.

So here we are on the doorstep of a new world where the social good we do one another might actually replace a big part of our productive capacity. If Kunstler is right, we might rediscover agrarian virtues in a way few of us desire. Yet it's the difficulty in this idea that conceals its beauty. Money didn't make us happy nor good. We squandered time and treasure for little more than crappy suburban sprawl and epidemics of obesity and diabetes.

Like everyone else ruined by too much too soon, I don't savor the correction. How could I? But I wonder if the harsh lessons awaiting us contain a blessing in disguise. We might need one another again in a way that's fundamental to human happiness.

[Emil Pulsifer]

Soleri's comment put me in mind, somehow, of a novella by Robert Heinlein called The Unpleasant Profession of Jonathan Hoag.

[Emil Pulsifer]

"Before it's all over we're gonna get a little place out in the country, and I'll raise some vegetables, a couple of chickens..."
- Arthur Miller, Death of a Salesman, Act 2

"I realized what a ridiculous lie my whole life has been."
- Arthur Miller, Death of a Salesman, Act 2

[Buford]

I tried sales a couple of times. Both, incidently, in Phoenix.

In the first job I had to take an out-of-state phone book and cold call companies for 'chemicals' (cleaning supplies). The hook was to tell them we had recieved their postcard for a free prize,even though therre was no such thing. If we placed an order, it would come with the prize, but it was still a scam. I left after a few days and the manager tried to make me feel bad by observing that I "couldn't take it." I replied that if they menat that I wouldn't be dishonest and unethical, they were right. They had plenty of employees who could 'take it."

The second job was selling a special kind of vacuum cleaner. After using a variety of ways to get in the door, we would demo the machine and claim a very high price but call our manager to get a lower price. After a series of fake negotiations to a "special" low price, we would tell them that we had to back to office and bring back a new machine instead of selling them the demo we had. We would always clean up the same machine and bring it back to them. I never understood why we bothered with the lie but it was considered an essential part of the speil. Since we were encouraged to go after friends and family as sales opportunities, I actually sold one to the parents of a friend. I've never felt good about that. I only lasted a couple of weeks and only sold two.

Years later, in the Seattle area, I worked at a violin shop. ONly a small part of my time was spent helping people choose instruments but we were encouraged to help them find the instrument that suited their needs at a price that they could afford - even if that meant sending them to our competitors. People were astonished that we would send them away, but always pleased that we had actually helped them. Even if they bought an instrument from someone else, they wouls refer people to us - because we would actually put their needs first. That's the only sales job I ever felt good about.

Today, I'm thankful that I'm no good at sales.

Happy Thanksgiving, Jon

[mike doughty]

Becoming a nation of salesmen and bankers is the natural progression of a nation going into decline.It happened to the Spanish after they had extracted all the treasure from the New World.Then the Dutch became bankers of the world as their sun set.The British probably held out the longest as their sources of coal and maritime talent kept them an empire.At the end of each period they became more and more a nation of bankers and salesmen.I read this in a very good book I can't remember right now,but if anyone wants the name of it,let me know and I will try to find it.
PS-Jon,reading your posts make me remember your time here in Phoenix and how much distress we could have avoided if the banking-developer complex(and the public) had listened to you.

[Edain]

Mike, I'd be interested in the name of that book when you have time to dig.

[Scott Sanders]

This post is a few months old I know but somehow I happened upon it and it makes me WANT to read more of what you have to say.

I posted a blog on a site for salespeople and I proposed the idea of a massive mindset change in not only the mind of the salesman but the mind of the public as well. The site was for car salespeople and while I know they are not always seen in the best of light its tough being one because of HOW the public perceives them to be.

I also know that most of that is the salespersons fault but somehow, because we are the salesperson, we need to make the change on our end first and put service in sales.