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Salary Negotiation and Poker: Start With the Hand You’re Dealt: Unique Value Propositions

Salary Negotiation and Poker: Start With the Hand You’re Dealt: Unique Value Propositions

by | Jun 13, 2011 | Interview Tips, Job Search, Negotiation

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Salary negotiation is a really hard process, and one of the top concerns of job-seekers in any industry. It’s the “poker round” of the hiring process, where both sides try to set aside their enthusiasm for working together and think in their own best interest, cards closely held to their vest, and wait for the other to either show their hand or fold. It can be gut-wrenching and nerve-wracking, because nobody ever wants to leave money on a poker table.

Before I go any further with this analogy, I want to say a couple of things. First, I am a lousy poker player and in many ways, a lousy negotiator, because I’m not motivated by money. I’m usually motivated by fear of losing money, and a desire to win. And I struggle with both, and can be frustrating to play poker with, as a result. I am usually the one to fold early, and I have a lousy poker face. Other players can usually tell when I have a winning hand, and they will fold early rather than fork over a lot of money. So take my advice about poker and about negotiation at your own risk! I usually end up leaving money on the table, or having others walk away out of sheer frustration.

But come along for a moment, and let’s break this down, using the poker game analogy, because I think many people can relate to it.

When you are dealt a hand in poker, you know what it is, and depending on whether you are playing stud, or draw, you either know your hand outright, or you can make a couple of trade-outs for fresh cards, to see if you can find a hand worth playing.

If you are playing stud poker, you know your hand from the get-go, and can make your bets based on that hand and your perceptions of the moves others around the table are playing, and whether they are betting, calling or holding.

If you are playing draw poker, you may place an initial bet, based on your gut feeling about being able to cobble something together worth doing, and then raise, call or fold, again based on the moves that other players make in response.

In the salary negotiation process, you also have to start with the hand you are dealt. It starts with your Unique Value Proposition. This is the where you describe your knowledge, skills and experience in ways that show your potential fit into a position. The keys to putting together this UVP (also referred to in the business world as a Unique Selling Proposition or USP) is that you have to explain who you are, what you can bring to the table, and why you are the best person to do so.

Let’s put a formula to negotiation, using your Unique Value Proposition:

  • First, describe who you are, in terms of current education, skills and experience.
  • Second, differentiate your education, skills and experience from other candidates.
  • Third, describe, in terms as concrete as possible, the value that you will add to the employer’s bottom line, that others cannot. (i.e., how you will solve their problems.)
  • Fourth, be ready to fold and walk away when the stakes get too high.

As I mentioned before, I am a lousy negotiator and this does affect my bottom line. I’m going to be spending more time in the near term explaining the Unique Value Proposition for this site and for my coaching programs, trainings and consulting services.

In the process, you’ll see content on this site, and the nature of the free and paid programs that go with it, change. I’m doing this for two reasons: so you can clearly see the value offered, and so that I can tweak the business model so that it results in sustainable business. In short, because being a good coach and a lousy businessman isn’t sustainable, and I really want to win, for the sake of my family and all they’ve sacrificed over the last couple of years to help me build my sites and my business.

It’s basic economics in action. Let’s return to what I learned in ECON 201 when I was actually listening to Dr. Benjamin’s lectures in Sirrine Hall my sophomore year at Clemson, when I wasn’t sleeping off the night before, or checking out the cute sorority girls who wouldn’t really even tell me the time of day.

Transactional business is driven by the concept of marginal utility. The success of any business model hinges on the perceptions of price in relation to utility of the product or service. In business transactions, people (including employers) don’t pay for experience. They don’t pay for history or content. They pay for value.

When utility (perceived value) outweighs price (i.e., risk), people will pay more (by upping their ante.) When price (risk) outweighs utility (perceived value), it’s easy to fold and walk away.

Key questions to consider in preparing for negotiation:

  • How are you presenting your value?
  • How are you contrasting your unique value against other options (other candidates, or starting over with a search.) This might also be seen as overcoming objections to price.
  • How comfortable are you in protecting your unique value, by folding (walking away)?

Once you get these points down, you’ll be ready to not only play, but to win.

So are you going to up the ante, call, or fold?

Hate my analogy? Love it? Tell me in the comments!

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QR Codes: Like Poop on Your Résumé

QR Codes: Like Poop on Your Résumé

by | Jun 10, 2011 | Job Search, job search tools, Resumes and CVs

This week, I’ve been putting out articles on Interview Ecology, and exploring the risks and benefits of introducing the “new and shiny” into the process. We’ve considered whether bringing a iPad into an interview is akin to bringing an invasive species into an eco-system.

This ecosystem approach relies heavily on the idea that anything that distracts or disrupts may destroy the delicate balance of a search process, and bring up dissonance in respect to person-environment fit, resulting in a candidate not getting a particular position.

Which forces me to bring up a particular pet peeve of mine: the all-the-sudden popular and ugly-as-sin QR code. I hate them, because like many fads, most people rushing to use them don’t understand how to make sure they add value to the experience. In general, I feel that most people might as well take a poop on their résumé as put one of these on it, because adding a QR code without adding something of value to the “interview ecosystem” is well…just a load of crap.

I’m already anticipating the response from candidates and tech geeks who think these things are cutting edge and allow a new layer of interactivity that wasn’t possible before. Well, I call bullshit. Scanning these blotches into a smartphone just allows lazy people to avoid typing a URL into their browser, as if the 20 seconds of time spent doing so will add up, like all the partial pennies Richard Pryor dumped into his bank account in Superman III, and will result in the résumé screener having a richer, more exciting , and complete view of the candidate.

Bullshit. Bullshit. BULLSHIT.

The same can be achieved by pointing someone toward a regular URL or hyperlink. QR codes only add new functionality to a paper résumé, which you probably aren’t viewing anyway. And anyone with half a salt lick of sense in their head can run a long URL into an URL shortener. So if space on the résumé is your major concern, that’s no argument, either.

Now, I will admit upfront to being a résumé geek and a purist. I don’t believe all the hogwash people throw around about résumés going away. Advances in technology and social media are just changing how they are delivered. And nothing takes away from the basic truths at play:

  • Your résumé needs to be targeted toward your industry, level of experience, and the level of position you are seeking.
  • It needs to be scannable (visually scannable)
  • There has to be a sense of logical and visual flow that draws a reader in, and keeps them reading and scanning. And…here’s the big one…
  • It needs to be attractive and not full of distracting bullshit.

I had a client recently work with me on his CV and he had a QR code on it, at top right. I asked him why it was there. He replied that he wanted to show himself as cutting edge and tech savvy. So I asked him where the QR Code goes, and what value was added by putting it on there. And…wait for it…it went to an online pdf copy of his CV!

We talked a bit and I told him I didn’t see the point of having it there, if it only went to his CV. He was really tied to keeping it there, so we came to a compromise position. He had also been updating his LinkedIn profile, which had some great recommendations on it, and some other links to relevant information. So we decided to point it there, because doing so added some value to the equation. The result: the QR code went from being poop on his résumé to being rich compost instead.

My criticism of his strategy should not be equated with a critique his level of technical savvy or his readiness for the type of job he was applying for, and I’ve told him as much. In fact, I think he’s a great candidate, or I wouldn’t be working with him. I don’t work with clients I don’t believe in, because that’s not fair to people on either side.

Ultimately, I’m grateful for the perspectives his situation has given me, and what it allows me to share with you.

Here are the big take-aways:

  • New technology is great, and showing comfort with it is just fine. But using tech badly could actually hurt your candidacy. Make sure that your use of technology is appropriate and that there is a clear point to using it (like adding interactivity or pointing to recommendations or portfolio work.)
  • If using a new way of doing things distracts from your design, content or flow, you really need to weigh the risks of using it against the value added. And if you can’t do this on your own…
  • It pays to talk this sort of stuff out with a trusted friend, advisor, or career coach.

What do you think? Tell me in the comments.

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What Comes Easy, What Comes Hard: This Week’s Questions on The Grill

What Comes Easy, What Comes Hard: This Week’s Questions on The Grill

by | May 27, 2011 | Career Skills, Job Search, Podcast

Retro MicrophoneIn any job, some things come easy, and some come hard. This is definitely true for positions in higher education, even at the entry level, but even moreso as you move up the ladder. This week on the Grill, John Mayo and I will be discussing the right ways and the wrong ways to answer questions in your interview about what you think will come easily in a new position, and what will require a steep learning curve.

This weeks we tackle two thought-provoking and tightly connected questions that ask you to share your thoughts about how your strengths and weaknesses match up to the position you are applying for.

“Given your current level of education, skills and experience:

  • What part of the position will be easiest for you, and why?
  • What part of the position will require the steepest learning curve and how will you approach closing the gap?”

The show today is pre-recorded and due to a minor disaster here in Athens (see photo), we will not have the live call-in portion of the show, as a storm blew down a branch onto my house and cars and I am working on cleanup and insurance-claim-related stuff.

To listen, use the player in the sidebar.

 

 

Saying No and Scaling Back: Separate, But Related Choices

Saying No and Scaling Back: Separate, But Related Choices

by | May 17, 2011 | Career Skills, life purpose, work/life balance

I recently had a discussion with a fellow coach as part of the Third Tribe Marketing membership site, which connects small businesses with some of the top minds in social media and marketing to help them learn ways to build authority, increase their credibility and get more business.

The discussion was about saying “no” to some commitments so he could concentrate on his business. He was having an awful time doing so, and I could definitely relate to where he was coming from. Like most of the people I work with (and like me!), he has multiple passions and only so much time.
His question was about deciding what to quit and when to quit it. I get it. When you have a business, and want to have a life beyond it, it makes no sense to keep on doing the wrong things, or dividing the time you need to spend on the right things. I suggested that maybe he just needed to re-balance his priorities.
I’ve said it once before, but it bears repeating: Work/Life balance is only a myth to those who won’t insist on it. Your priorities are your priorities. You get to set them.
There was a time when I worked at Penn State’s Smeal College of Business, and was responsible for running a student organizations office that supported 32 student groups. I advised four of these directly, and assisted the other 28. I also coordinated the work of the committees for all of the college’s major student events, including a scholarship committee, two award ceremonies, and all of the major leadership and professional development events.

I left that job and went back to Residence Life. In my first position back in that department, I supervised professional staff, planned training events for student and professional staff, created publications, and was responsible for 11 major department tasks and committees, including oversight of a resident assistant training class with 4 to 7 instructors and 70-120 students each semester; admissions events; orientation; welcome week; assessment and writing the department’s annual report. I had so many things on my plate that half the time I met with my supervisor, we talked about what I had been doing lately, and the rest, we tried to click through in our heads all the things I was supposed to be doing, because neither of us could keep up.

Now those were busy jobs. Many people have busy jobs, and those were the duties. I knew that going in. These types of positions are classic student affairs jobs…you wear many hats, largely because of interesting institutional priorities and lack of funding to actually hire an appropriate level of support staff.

Anyway…
 
What I did in my “free” time was up to me.

Did I relax?

You tell me. Here are a few things I spent my “free time” doing during that period:

  • Serving on the “nominating committee” for my church to recruit people gullible enough to want to be on the board, or who could be guilted into it.
  • Acting as student outreach chair and advising the Penn State student group related to the church (yeah, another group!)
  • Teaching a 26-week sex ed course at the church for junior-high-level kids (10 of them) where they learned about not only plumbing and mechanics, but assertiveness skills, understanding sexual orientation issues, and discussing their values and the role they play in decision-making. (Did I mention this was an unpaid position? My standing joke is that this is about as close as an Unitarian can get to sainthood!)
  • Serving on the fundraising and events committee for a new non-profit that saved an old movie theater and converted it into a performing arts center. In this capacity, I helped plan a couple of concerts, a 5K and a certified mile race, and helped with open houses during the yearly arts festival.
  • I also took up gardening, got back into home brewing, and helped found a home brewers club. I was secretary of that group for a while.
Somehow I fit it all in. And for a while, it was okay. Then, I got promoted, had a different scope of responsibility, and my wife and I started a family. I supervised more people, had fewer work responsibilities, but ones with more impact on other people, and I had to learn to say “no” and to let some things go, and scale back commitments to others.

Eventually, I hit a wall with stress, being a new dad, and dealing with everyone else’s needs for my time and energy. I had a health issue crop up, and things got much harder to deal with. Only then did I learn to say “no.” It’s not selfish to take a step back if you need to do so. At least not in the unhealthy, guilt-wracking way most people think about it. Instead, think of it as “self-preservation,” because that’s what it is, really.

I won’t say I did it without encouragement and support from the right people. First, my family. My wife Sarah insisted I stop ignoring my obvious health issue and go to the doctor. My doctor insisted I see more doctors. And my supervisor told me in a meeting that she would support a personal leave of absence. I resisted for a while, but eventually realized I needed to step off the stress train and go look at some trees and grass and get right with how I was taking care of myself and with how I was viewing my work, my life, the world, and my place in it.

Here’s how I did it.
  • I started saying “I have some other things to deal with right now, and I want to take some time to sort out my personal priorities, so I will be scaling back some duties and not continuing with others.”
  • I offered to help with an orderly transition of tasks during my leave, and I did so.
  • Then I left, turned off the cell phone, stopped looking at work e-mail, and spent a few days all by myself at a state park lodge in Berkeley Springs, West Virginia. It was the best thing I ever did for myself. Looking back, I realized I hadn’t given myself enough opportunities for comparison.
That period let me adjust my approach to work and family, and my priorities started to settle themselves out. I spent more time developing my staff, and less time criticizing them; more time talking with students instead of just at them and near them, and I started going home on time to be with my family, work in the garden, enjoy downtime, and think about the kind of person I wanted to be. It led me onto a path toward coaching, and eventually to this group.

Here’s where you have to be bold and unapologetic. I was established at Penn State, and comfortable. You might even say complacent. I’d “topped out,” and after a few searches for the next rung up the ladder didn’t work out, I realized several things about my situation that I hadn’t reflected on enough. First, my opportunities to move up internally, which had been regular and self-sustaining for almost 15 years, dried up. Second, I had moved through the hard transitions of the previous couple of years, and was in good stead with my colleagues and supervisor. Third, the organization was most comfortable with me at the place in the organization I held at that time, and both of us were losing out on growth opportunities because of it.

That’s when I realized my priorities were hopelessly out of sync with where I wanted to go in my life and  career. So I took a leap of faith, and went there anyway. It meant leaving my job, moving away from a place I had called home for 15 years, and making new friends. I left at a weird time of the semester (about 5 weeks before Winter closing.) I didn’t want to leave then, because of the weird employment gap it left, and how some people would interpret it. But we had bought a new house, had a buyer for the old one, and I really didn’t want to  move from Pennsylvania in December, anyway. So I planned my transition as cleanly as I could, left the lines of communication open, and stepped boldly into creating my own life and career.

I realize that for many, this would have been completely insane. For me, it was only mildly so. I had savings and investments to lean on, the support of my family, and a plan B. (I moved to a college town just in case I needed a more stable stream of income, and I keep the lines of communication open with my old colleagues, supervisor and references, in case I need to get that next job.)

I’ve concentrated my efforts on being recognized as a likable authority in relation to higher education careers. I’m  learning to provide content that enhances that reputation and build testimonials that will speak for me. I know I talk too much and that it annoys some people. I can only say I’m working a little on it, and the rest is just who I am. If you respect the value of my advice, knowledge and skills you’ll move past it. What content “expert” isn’t a little bit of a pain in the ass every now and again?

But I’ve digressed, so let me return to you and hopefully help you to focus your efforts:
My questions for you are these:
  • If you can’t fit your priorities into your life, is it your life or your priorities that are the problem?
  • How could you re-order them without “throwing out the baby with the bath water?” My bet is that you can. And if you are going to get where you need to get, you must.
  • So which needs and priorities are you going to feel worst about not meeting: yours, or those of others?
  • What’s the role of faith (in yourself, or something greater, or both) in your career? And how do you know when it’s time to “take a leap?”

The other truth you need to embrace, if you are to move forward, is that the world doesn’t rest on your shoulders. The programs you support will go on, if people are committed to them. You can still be involved in a lesser role if you want to be. You can do your own thing, without walking away mad, or burning the bridge behind you.

To think any less is to imprison yourself by meeting someone else’s expectations. Let them go. Focus on your own. You deserve to be happy and get where you are going.

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Is AAU’s New Emphasis On Money A Sign of Ivory Tower Elitism?

by | May 3, 2011 | Higher Education, Student Affairs

bigstock_ancient_statue_emperor_nero_ca_5865479The recent ouster of the University of Nebraska at Lincoln from the elite Association of American Universities has raised some interesting questions about the role of research money in determining who can earn membership to this exclusive circle of the nation’s top institutions.

In a recent article published in the Chronicle of Higher Education , some key aspects of the debate were outlined, but in between the lines, I see a couple of bigger questions. First, while research funding clearly contributes to learning opportunities for students, does the AAU’s new ranking formula discount the efforts of universities that decide to prioritize their new spending on teaching? And how about improvement of facilities that directly contribute to the quality of student life, beyond teaching? Ignoring these practical bottom-line issues doesn’t serve the needs of our students; it serves the needs of corporations and the inflated egos of academics. It’s “ivory tower thinking” at its worst. In the end, this elitism is likely to backfire, and one can only hope that our students aren’t the ones who get burned.

We live in interesting times, where hard choices are being made about what we can offer students, and how we can retain top faculty and staff, in the face of decreased funding from states, and private donors, who are struggling with financial hardships of their own.

It’s even more interesting, then, that a major association would create a system now, in the face of what some are calling the “higher education bubble,” to marginalize a flagship university over, in part, matters of research funding. In my view, this is another example of misplaced elitism by those who have insulated themselves from the hard realities of our times. Not far afield, in some ways, from the recent decision of two major student affairs associations (NASPA and ACPA) to pursue a vote on consolidation, only to have different rules about whose voice counts in deciding whether to merge: one association choosing to allow a voice to graduate students and the other, to limit decision-making to the “old guard” and protect the status quo.

I’d argue that both of these association matters are symptomatic of something greater, and that more is to come. Associations that fail to adapt to the realities of interesting times are as relevant as Nero playing the fiddle while Rome burned. There was an epic, poetic quality to it, in some ways, but his tribute didn’t stop the flames.

So the questions before academia are simple enough:

  • Who’s guarding the academy, and who’s fiddling while it burns?
  • At the end of the day, how can associations remain relevant to the professionals they serve (established and emerging)?
  • And if they remain relevant, what will rise in their place?
  • Is it elitist to classify individuals and institutions and to define for them their roles in the national debates of our times, or is it”just the way things are?”
  • Is there any hope for practical solutions in academic circles that are so highly focused on research?