The call came in from a number that looked somewhat familiar. I rushed to take it.
My SUV was at the dealership for repairs, and I figured my service advisor was calling with an update.
I was partially right.
The call was from the dealership. But it came from the sales department.
Sir, I see that your vehicle is in for service. What would it take for us to buy it off you and get you in a new one?
I hadn’t considered the idea. My mind was consumed with fixing what ailed my vehicle, and hopefully not going broke in the process.
I told the sales representative as much, hoping that would end the conversation. But he countered by asking when I might feel differently.
I don’t know, I replied. Maybe when my registration renewal is due in the spring.
Sure enough, when springtime rolled around, I was got a call from the same representative. He was polite, but persistent. Persistent in coaxing me to follow through on the swap he’d proposed.
I wasn’t taking the bait. I politely told the sales representative to leave me alone.
Several years have passed since this encounter. But it remains top of mind for me.
These days, when I drop my vehicle off for service, I expect a call like this. So, I save my service advisor’s phone number in my contact list. And I don’t pick up calls from similar looking numbers.
I know too well who’s on the other end of the line. And I have no interest in playing that game.
There may well be a time when I feel the need to replace my vehicle. Perhaps it will become inoperable, or the repair bills for it will get too high.
But when that day comes, I’d like to be the one initiating the buying process. The same way I did when I purchased my current vehicle.
As far as I’m concerned, a proactive sales motion will always be a case of right move, wrong moment.
Place and time.
They make for odd bedfellows.
One is a physical reality. The other a mental construct.
There are nearly 200 million square miles of places on this earth. Some are inhabitable, others less so. But the forensic proof of their existence is irrefutable.
Time offers a different challenge. Yes, we have clocks and calendars to mark its passage. And nature has its sunrises, sunsets, leaf falls and snowfalls. But even with all that, when is more open to interpretation than where.
Perhaps this is why mastering the moment is so challenging.
We know better than to wander into a burning building on our own accord. But avoiding a building that’s likely to ignite? That’s a trickier proposition.
I learned this principle early on.
During a childhood vacation in Maine, my family ventured across a sandbar from Bar Harbor to a small island.
My parents checked their watches as we ventured across the wet sand. Their behavior seemed curious, but I didn’t question it.
By the time we’d reached the island, I’d all but forgotten about the watches. There were new trails to hike, and new sights to see. I was full of excitement.
My explorations would soon be cut short though, thanks to a warning from my father.
We have to head back now. If we don’t, we’ll be stuck here until tomorrow.
You see, the tide was coming back in, and the sandbar we’d crossed would soon be submerged. Our only route back to shore was evaporating.
So, we hustled our way back across the sandbar. But once we emerged in Bar Harbor, I was forever changed.
No longer would I be ignorant of the moment. I would be sure to factor in the when along with the where.
Even if others failed to do the same.
In 2017, a Yale law student named Lina Khan wrote an article that gained national acclaim.
Khan argued that the traditional markers of antitrust regulation were outdated and needed reframing.
You see, in previous generations, business monopolies had largely focused on pricing power. As the only game in town for the goods they offered, they could charge as much as they want. And consumers were forced to part with bigger and bigger portions of their budget to get by – at least until antitrust regulators stepped in in.
But now, companies like Amazon were managing to stifle competition while keeping prices low. Such were the advantages of the internet era, where volume alone could yield value.
Consumers were all too happy to feed Amazon’s monopolistic engine. The goods they used to trek to stores for were now even more affordable. And they didn’t need to leave home to get them.
But while consumers were thriving and prices were low, Amazon’s competitors were suffering. Khan saw this as a problem – for commerce and for capitalism. And she argued that antitrust practices needed to shift.
So began a meteoric rise for Khan’s career. The newly minted Juris Doctor soon found work in think tanks, academia, and government. By 2021, she had risen to the top post at the Federal Trade Commission.
Khan wasted no time getting to work. The FTC quickly objected to a series of corporate mergers. And the agency got involved in several high-profile investigations of Amazon and other technology giants.
The FTC notched some major wins during this time. It blocked the merger of grocery chains Albertsons and Kroger. And it helped derail several consolidation attempts for budget airlines.
But such victories often proved hollow.
You see, Khan’s crusade came in the wake of major economic headwinds. A dissipating pandemic, a global supply chain snarl, and a bout of inflation had made life difficult for businesses and consumers alike.
Instead of lining their pockets through mergers, many businesses were seeking consolidation simply to survive. And when the FTC blocked their path, they fell apart.
Albertsons and Kroger have closed many locations since their merger went up in smoke. Spirit Airlines – one of the budget airlines the FTC helped thwart – has since gone bankrupt. And these developments have left consumers with fewer options and persistently higher prices.
Khan’s effort to stiffen antitrust enforcement might have been the right move. But it was executed at the wrong moment. And America suffered for it.
Place and time mean everything.
Some years back, I was at an arcade when my friends goaded me into trying out the fighter jet simulator.
I had never operated one of those before, and I had no idea what I was doing. But I concocted a plan anyway.
The button under my left thumb controlled the jet’s gun, while the button under my right thumb launched missiles.
I knew that each weapon could represent the right move. But only at the right moment.
So, as the simulator reached “cruising altitude,” I’d look for enemy aircraft in the area. If they appeared close, I’d fire the gun a time or two. And if they seemed to be further away, I’d launch a missile.
By the time the ride was over, I’d maintained a respectable score.
Here in the ride of life, it’s critical that we all follow similar guidance. That we avoid succumbing to rigidity and stubborn ideology. That we consider the when as much as the what.
The right move only works when deployed at the right moment.
Let us not forsake one for the other.