Tag: timing

Right Move, Wrong Moment

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.

The Danger of Premature Celebration

There’s an indelible image that’s lodged in my mind.

It comes from a Monday Night Football game between the Dallas Cowboys and the Philadelphia Eagles that took place several years ago.

In the second quarter of the game, the Eagles quarterback drops back and unleashes a majestic throw. The ball spirals sharply through the warm Texas night, landing in the arms of receiver DeSean Jackson as he’s running at full-stride 60 yards downfield near the goal line.

Jackson raises his arms in jubilation as he prepares for his touchdown celebration dance. He then points mockingly toward the Dallas fans and starts dancing in the end zone, just beyond the silver paint that reads COWBOYS.

It was a moment of sweet jubilation for Jackson — making a highlight-reel play on national television.

There was one problem. He didn’t have the ball.

When Jackson raised his arms, he was still two yards from the goal line. The ball popped backward out of his hand and bounded away behind him.

There was no touchdown. Just a fumble.

With all that dancing and gesturing, DeSean Jackson was only making a mockery of himself — on national television.

I’m captivated by this image. For it is the ultimate cautionary tale for our most obnoxious character flaw.

Premature celebration.

 

Our culture is built upon celebration.

As a capitalist society, we continually indoctrinate ourselves in the ethos of Taking what’s ours.

This ethos has had several iterations over the years.

First, pioneers and frontiersmen pushed their way west from the Atlantic to the Pacific, clearing swaths of forests and decimating native tribes to lay claim to the land.

Journalists of that era named the process Manifest Destiny — a term that whitewashed the true ugliness of what was going on. Out west, frontier life was punctuated by brutal acts of celebration.

Murderous bandits roamed the prairie, claiming ever bigger scores of gold and glory. Native tribesmen collected scalps off of their captives. And public hangings drew crowds of hundreds, even in one-horse towns.

In each case, someone was taking what was theirs, but at another’s expense. And they weren’t shy in letting the world know about it.

As the lawlessness of the west died down, a new revolution started back east. Stock and bond trading went from a side industry to the mainstream, turning Wall Street from a city street to a cultural icon.

Those who got rich in the early years of this movement weren’t afraid to flaunt their wealth. They dressed to the nines and threw extravagant parties. The era became known as The Roaring Twenties, and the roar was resonant — until the 1929 stock market crash brought an abrupt end to the party.

As America emerged from the Great Depression and the ensuing World War, the art of celebration went national for the first time. Radio and television programs made it from coast to coast, and Hollywood had more cultural influence than ever before. As new generation became infatuated with entertainment, our culture of celebration truly took root.

Now, what was once a campfire has erupted into a full-on inferno. Today, we focus less on what we accomplish and more on how we celebrate those accomplishments.

For that is how we’ll be judged. That is how we’ll be remembered.

And that, I assure you, that is what was running through the mind of DeSean Jackson when he foolishly dropped the ball two yards from glory.

Swim through the wall.

These four words sound like terrible advice — if you take them at face value.

After all, the water has plenty of give. It parts itself as we cut through it, as if beckoned by Moses’ staff.

The wall has no give. It stands as firm as the Himalayas, demanding deference.

But from a different perspective, what seems like folly is pure gold.

Yes, metaphorically, Swim through the wall means Don’t let up.

Or, more specifically: Achieve now. Celebrate later.

It’s simple advice. But that simplicity doesn’t make it any less effective.

DeSean Jackson could have used that advice on that warm Texas night all those years ago. But truth be told, we all could use that advice.

For the act of claiming victory is more foolish now than ever.

There is always more work to be done. In an era when information and collaboration travel digitally, the next challenge beckons around the corner.

Changing tastes make what’s acceptable today unacceptable tomorrow. Relentless innovation accelerates the demise of those who refuse to adapt. And the existential threat of violent extremism persists, no matter how relentlessly we beat it back.

Yet, it seems we can’t help ourselves. We can’t stop raising our arms in triumph and beating our chests, even as the goalposts for these issues drift ever further away.

Don’t believe me? Consider this.

There was a time when entertainers like R. Kelly, Bill Cosby, Michael Jackson and Kevin Spacey were the toast of the town. We talked about their brilliance and their talent — and turned the other way as they abused the power of their celebrity.

There was a time when quarterly earnings from Sears and Kodak drew news coverage. We made the Sears catalog a staple of our holiday shopping lists and planned around Kodak Moments — dismissing the notion that such references would ever be obsolete.

And there was a time we spoke of the end of segregation, the end of toxic radicalism, and the end of hate — conveniently forgetting that such troublesome ideas are like a Hydra, and don’t just die with the body they’re housed in.

Over and over we’ve declared victory too early. And in each case, the collateral damage was massive.

We should know better than this. We should recognize that life can rarely be placed into neat little boxes, each topped with a bow.

No, life is a messy, unpredictable journey. A constant parade of experiences and challenges to claw our way through. An abundant set of opportunities for us to pick ourselves up and reach for something greater.

We’re better off embracing that climb, and the inevitable change that comes with it. We’re better off preparing for what’s ahead than celebrating what’s imminent.

So, let’s not make a mockery of ourselves. Let’s not get egg on our face.

Timing is everything. Best to get it right.