To Make Sales, You Must Appeal to the Senses
Making Sense of Things

I could tell my brother was frustrated. He’d spent several months trying to secure a meeting with this executive, and then a solid week putting together a custom presentation.

“When they say they’ll get back to you, it means you’ll never hear from them again,” my brother explained to me.

Many business leaders in the ’80s didn’t get or trust technology. But my brother knew his stuff. He worked for Apple when they were just getting started, and then he moved on to work for a high profile Silicone Valley software company.

But he needed to win this account to prove to his bosses that setting up a midwest office in Chicago was worth it. I had no role in the matter.

I was merely tagging along because it was my summer break from college. I’d just finished my third year of architecture school and didn’t know a damn thing about the world of business. But still, my brother demanded my opinion on the matter, so I gave him an earful.

“I’d focus on Theo’s clever catchphrase, “If you can’t touch it, it ain’t real!”

“Why start with that idiotic comment?” my brother asked.

“Because he’s right!” I said, as my brother shot me a mean glance. “This is how he, and everyone else, relates to the world.”

“Humans have a hard time grasping something new with their intellect first. We’re hardwired to comprehend things initially with our senses, you know, taste, touch, smell, sound, and, of course, seeing, before an idea can set up shop in our mind,” I said.

“There’s no idea in your head that didn’t first come through one of your senses. Thinking with our senses first is how we make sense of the world. It’s also how we speak, describe, and communicate complex ideas to each other.”

“How so?” my brother asked.

“Well, for instance, Theo could use all kinds of words to describe yo, some kind…some not so kind, to his colleagues.”

“Like what?” my brother asked.

“He could say you’re slick, slimy, rough on the edges, slippery, prickly, or hard-headed,” I said. “Or he could say something more flattering like you’re “as sharp as a tack,” have a “laser-like mind,” or are a “tough as nails, nose to the grindstone” kind of guy.”

“These descriptions are all sensory-based words that use material qualities to describe complex ideas.”

“I get it,” my brother said, “but how does this relate to a service offering?”

“You’re asking these risk-averse executives to take a giant leap of faith on something new and unfamiliar to them that they can’t see or touch.”

“But you keep trying to appeal to their intellect when you need to be tapping into their senses first.”

“But how the hell can these guys “touch” my service?” my brother interrupted.

“Well, for starters,” I said, “your company should design a confident-looking software box, even though it’s a service. I would also make the account management process more tangible and metaphoric, like a sports playbook. This way, your potential clients could see and feel your services.”

“Having something tangible will help comfort and assure them.”

“What Theo needs is something physical he can use to explain to his colleagues why their company should write a giant check to you. And the software box is a small but pivotal piece of that risk reduction,” I said.
['Kevin Ervin Kelley']
['Management', 'Design', 'Sales', 'Business', 'Marketing']