Earning The Right

I first heard this phrase in a selling context three decades back when working in New England.

The theme was you could not necessarily rush a prospect. Forcing them to go farther could then be in vain. You might think you're making headway but in reality, you're out.

We must 'earn the right' to progress.

A whole topic built around that.

Typically lasering onto their true personal and profession wins.

Also covering a specific type of conversation; the Earn The Right Call.

Normally immediately prior to trying to get hold of The Man. As was then termed the ultimate buyer. The ᴍᴀɴ having the Money, Authority & Need. It's where you have to pass an entrance exam to get in, and not always with the natural gatekeeper.

"Have you earnt the right?"

That'd be a common question asked by management.

Earlier this season I noted from rugby how one of the current crop of super-coaches used this for his own marker.

Until Michael Cheika clicked with the culture, got their processes moving, and seen performances, he would not wear the team's hallowed shirt.

Now we learn of a spookily similar coach. This time from football. Not just with any old club mind you. But England.

Who - and let's not get sidetracked here - have a super-coach of their own. A German. On a strict 18-month gig. Sole goal; win the World Cup.

Thomas Tuchel has a track record. He can do the job. But, despite all the obvious baggage, can he really deliver glory next summer in America?

How might he deal with that vexing opening competitive game prefacing press conference?

As he named his first squad, initial questions from the fourth estate were the standard why/why-not this player or that.

Not long in, the gotcha shot.

"Will you be singing the national anthem?"

Always tricky for a 'foreigner'.

Given added spice as this being one from a mega-foe.

More heat still, as the previous coach resolutely did not sing it.

Supposedly not because the Brummie was (quarter) Irish, though, right?

Yet we could take a breath.

Tuchel handled it with aplomb.

"You have a very powerful, emotional and meaningful national anthem.
And I could not be more proud to be on the sideline and be in charge of the English national team.
It means everything.
It means a lot to me, I can assure you.
But I feel because it is that meaningful and it is that emotional and it is so powerful I have to earn my right to sing it.
I feel that it is not just a given.
You cannot just sing it.
That’s why I decided that I will not sing it in my first matches.
I will earn it with results, with building a group, with doing my job properly and by creating a feeling where maybe even you guys say at some point,
'Now it’s time that you sing it, it feels like you’ve properly earned it and you’re a proper English guy now'.
Maybe I have to dive more into the culture and earn my right from you, from the players, from the supporters, so everyone feels like,
'He should sing it now, he’s one of our own, he’s the English manager, he should sing it'."

I guess this response would've had the doodlebug role-played out of it beforehand. But its 'earning' still feels authentic.

For any senior exec new-in-post, status does confer a certain degree of posture.

Yet in both these cases cited, one key cultural signal existed.

The chances are, one akin to these also exists in that organisation you join next afresh.

Given the long-standing strapline of my here blog - ...because today's salespeople should be tomorrow's chief execs - it is one I heartily recommend you spot and announce you treat in similar manner.