Hey, how's business?
Hey! How’s business?
Um… Where do I start? I could keep my Friendly Local Small Biz Owner mask firmly on and chirp: “Great!”
Which would be, well… not quite true. This doesn’t mean that I should groan and lay on you the litany of the s**tshow that has been the last three years. Who wants to hear that? And who wants to share that? Not me.
But, here’s the thing. I spent the last half of last month revising our website to showcase our favorite products, ones we've been promoting for years, in some cases for decades. I agonized for hours over the layout, the wording, the images, aiming to make the website as user-friendly and inviting as possible, even as our vendors wantonly and capriciously changed pricing, availability levels, delivery days and distribution channels. After many days of tweaking this beast into pleasing form, with bright and spare copy, working links and all that jazz, I finally hit “publish”. I was not going for immediate results. I’ve been in this business far too long to expect instant gratification. I was going for slow germination of seeds planted carefully and with love.
I was hoping to coax slow transformation.
What I was definitely NOT expecting was that the same week that I published my carefully wrought web pages would usher in a wave of change that forces us to examine the very foundations on which we built our business.
It’s not a secret to anyone that in every industry manufacturers are trying to find direct ways to consumers, entirely bypassing traditional brick and mortar resale channels. Over the past few seasons, we have navigated this with some of our suppliers who’ve offered versions of “Click & Collect” programs, in which consumers purchase a product directly from the manufacturer, but take delivery of it at their local store. The supplier enjoys direct access to ready buyers, and —presumably— increased sales. The consumer enjoys the best of both world: the widest selection possible from the manufacturer, as well as included assembly and other services from the retailer. And the retailer enjoys an acceptable margin, without the risk of carrying excess inventory, plus a walk-in customer who may purchase other goods or services down the line. It’s a win-win-win of sorts.
The win wasn’t strong enough for the suppliers. Two of our major vendors —the ones whose products I so lovingly presented on my website— announced this month that they were now offering direct purchase options, entirely bypassing the retailers. In an especially daring and creative move, one of those vendors even opened their own store on Amazon. Oh, yes, we can still purchase from them, in the event we’re able to get a hold of anyone, because they simultaneously laid off the majority of their sales and customer service staff. I should also point out that “announced” is a bit of a generous word here, it was more like they unleashed it on the world without actually bothering to inform the dealers (as in: “Shhh!… Perhaps they won’t notice that the once exclusive Brompton is now on AMAZON!”), never mind offering so much as a small “thank you” to those of us who have promoted them each and every hour of our working days.
OK, I guess I’ve overshared after all. Let’s all take a deep breath.
Ahhhh!….
This is not a matter of “supporting” small business
This is not about “supporting” small business, because no effective support can come from something that's fundamentally broken, and we have to consider that our society essentially is.
Why am I telling you this?
What I really hope to do is reach that part of you that says it believes in community, and following your passion, and that those who work with commitment and dedication for the greater good of all deserve to be rewarded. I am telling you this because over the years I’ve developed what I think is an authentic channel of communication, and I’m hoping some of you will listen.
Look, we’re all tackling the changes thrown at us over the last three years alone.
Day after day we attempt to face tasks alone: saving our business—alone, saving our marriage—alone, dealing with depression—alone, losing weight—alone, changing habits—alone, dealing with isolation and disconnect—get this —ALONE. You're going it alone, and I'm going it alone, and we're getting nowhere fast. Because going it alone sucks.
We wear our individuality, our capacity to handle things on our own like a badge of honor. Like we’re all meant to be freakin’ superhero Lone Rangers. But that’s not what we are meant for. We evolved to thrive in community. A community means pooled talents, collective strength and constant, infinite exchange with others of things we each do well. We are meant to put our best energy to things we’re great at, and to allow others to do the same. We all do what we do best, and then share those things with abandon.
Only you wouldn’t know this looking at us now. With the cultural focus on earning money to survive, we’ve shifted to spending all of our time on work (which may include things we’re not especially good at) with little of it left over for supporting one another.
Money
Money is a touchy topic right now, because everyone seems to be suffering from the lack of it. I definitely know first hand how real scarcity can feel. But what if the belief in scarcity is not serving us well?
This is not some woo woo magical new age fluff about manifesting abundance. Think about it this way: as long as there are humans on earth, our capacity for exchange is infinite. As long as we maintain any semblance of community, we will continue to trade with one another —food, favors, skills, services, etc— whether money exists or not.
The physical thing we call money is actually just a measure of the exchange, and somehow we collectively decided that it’s ok to pay a lot of money for some things and to some people and entities including cars, country club memberships, jewelry, lawyers, insurance companies and Amazon. On the other hand, there are some things that our society values less in terms of money, including (but not limited to) bicycles, public education, transit, fresh locally grown food, elder care and human connection.
But this is not inevitable. We can decide to assign a greater measure of money to the types of exchanges that say we value more highly. We can stop paying for things that are not beneficial to us, and choose to pay for those we truly value, and in doing so, we can support others in earning a living by doing what they love to make the world a better place.
Wouldn’t that be a revenue revolution?