Around the world, buying and selling involves negotiation. This article asks, “Why?” he then analyzes the negotiation from a singularly anti-American perspective.
For years, I was an excellent negotiator and even taught negotiation in corporate America and in higher education. I enjoyed the challenge of paying as little as possible for something or selling it as much as possible.
Then something happened. I stopped trading. The idea of haggling over the price of something lost its shine and I soon became a rusty negotiator.
The turning point came after I moved to California and had my first “interview” with a member of the Highway Patrol. He was speeding up and following too closely. Somehow that ticket was the first of many that I had to pay for. I believe the funds were used to finance a carpool lane. In any case, I gave up trying to get out of them.
A decade later, after caring for my father with Alzheimer’s and then reflecting on my late parents’ money-saving habit, I asked, “Why?” Although his savings would support my father until his passing at age 90, they lived a frugal life with less than a handful of vacations amid hard work and sacrifice.
During those years, I remember my mother’s continual encouragement to make sure I negotiated well.
When a black market peddler in Taipei tried to sell me a Patek Philippe watch for $125 in the 1980s, I bargained even though I knew the authentic handmade Swiss watch would cost much more.
Today I see it differently. I ask, “How much is it worth to me?”
When an Armenian artist was selling a painting by Khor Virap at the Vernisage in Armenia, I couldn’t negotiate even though my host encouraged me to do so. The country of my ancestors is still going strong as an independent republic and I wanted to support its citizens. I paid full price. It felt strange and yet liberating. Although I rarely want to own art, bringing home that artist’s depiction of the monastery on the Ararat plain was worth it for me.
On the other hand, when a reputable tree removal service quoted $2,000 to cut down a tree next to my house, I realized the price was not worth it to me. Instead, I told the contractor that the challenge of climbing tree branches and cutting them myself was now more inviting and reminded me of my youth. The contractor warned me that remembering my youth almost four decades ago could cost me a lot more if I fell out of the tree. I laughed heartily in agreement. But the lure of my youth was greater than the difference of $1,250 from what I was willing to pay. Despite the bad economy, it wasn’t worth it for a 3-man crew to drive 35 miles to our house to save money. He left on good terms. Since then, my husband and I have safely cut off problem branches from the tree.
Why don’t we buy and sell more of ourselves based on what it’s worth to us? Determine what something is worth to us it is a way of dealing with integrity. Also, we do not run the risk of being offended because the value is what we are willing to pay for the item. If there is no common ground, there is no deal.
I would never pay the five-figure price for a handmade Patek Philippe watch. It may be worth the hundreds of hours that go into making one, but that level of craftsmanship just isn’t worth it to me. I would feel much better if I used that money to give away a caregiver.
What is it worth to you? Start asking this question and you will be amazed at how much more comfortable and confident you will feel when trying to buy or sell something.
Delight me with this final example of a billionaire in desperate need of water.
Quality drinking water is increasingly scarce in many parts of the world. By contrast, tap water flows freely at pennies a gallon in most cities.
Over the years, we’ve gotten used to paying for bottled water. At an outdoor event, to quench our thirst, we may pay $2 for the same bottle of water that we would buy for 20 cents a case.
Would we be willing to pay more?
Again, it depends.
Far from civilization, a billionaire’s charter plane runs out of fuel. The pilot makes an emergency landing in the desert between two nations at war. Days go by and the search teams cannot reach the plane due to the conflict. With supplies dwindling and a crew refusing to leave the plane, the billionaire heads to the desert in search of water. Three days pass and he is very weak and teary-eyed. He tries to focus when in the distance he sees a figure. Soon, an old man with skin dark as leather stands over him. His clothes are torn and appear worn, but strapped to his chest is a bulging leather boot bag filled with water.
What is it worth to the billionaire to take a drink of that old man’s water?
Would you trade? I doubt it.
How much would you be willing to pay that old man for a glass of life-saving water? $1,000? $10,000? $100,000?
That is why it makes no sense to negotiate. Negotiations do not reflect the real value or value of something between two parties that come from different places and points of view.
We need to take responsibility and decide what value we place on the things we buy and sell. If we practice this, we will end up with more things we need instead of things we don’t really want.
“Un-American,” you say. Maybe not. Plus, the deal is much less stressful and more satisfying when we ask, “How much is it worth to me?”