I Wish I Had Fixed the Right Problem the First Time

 

You can spend a lot of money fixing the wrong problem.

A few years ago, I walked into my library to the desk where my son, who was visiting from Detroit, was working. As I crossed the floor, I felt the sponginess of the floor near the desk. I was afraid the floor would give out from under me. I learned from a structural engineer much later that my floor was safe, but the wood rot in the joists underneath does need to be repaired.

I hired a company recommended to me that specialized in this type of work. They sistered joists and put in two jacks. I thought it was fixed. It wasn’t until much later that I realized the problem wasn’t fixed. I also learned the company was a bit of a one-trick pony. They had one solution, and they did that one thing very well.

I think I always had a sense that something still wasn’t quite right, but I so wanted it to be.

Now I am noticing a little give here and there, confirmation that the problem was never really solved and more wood has had time to deteriorate.

I am aggravated that I already paid to fix this problem once. At least I thought I did. I’ll likely have to tear up the original 1964 parquet floor I just love. I wish I had understood the actual repair need better the first time. If I had, I would have torn the floor up the first time. Then I wouldn’t be right back here in the same place.

This is such an important part of the home—the joists that hold up the floor keep the walls level. When the floor joists start to deteriorate, evidence shows up in other places, like cracks in the wall.

I’ve been asking more questions, talking to different people, listening to what the contractors who crawl underneath my house say, trying to learn everything I can so I make a better decision this time.

I’ve seen businesses do the same thing. Years ago, I worked with a family-owned company that had grown quite successful without ever building a brand foundation.

The owners knew their business and their roles inside the business. One was deeply immersed in running the company. The other was the innovator, always improving the product and figuring out better ways to solve problems for customers. Other family members held different roles inside the business.

It was a good business with real innovation and a compelling distinction that was buried in their communications. As a result, they were lost among the competitors with prospects often choosing based on price or relationship.

Customers had good reason to choose them, but no one had ever pulled all of that apart and figured out what the company really stood for or how those pieces connected until we did.

Out of the work came a positioning that was beautifully simple. It captured something customers truly valued about doing business with them and gave the company a much clearer way to communicate why someone should choose them.

I loved it. And for a while, it worked exactly the way good positioning should work. It gave sales better language and marketing clearer direction. It made a complicated business easier to understand. Then we learned the experience inside the company wasn’t consistently supporting the promise we were making externally.

Whenever we write a positioning line, we make sure it is one capable of being lived internally and communicated externally. Both must be true.

And although everyone spoke positively in the interviews, I later came to learn that it was a fear-based culture. The employees said such good things because they did not feel safe enough to tell the truth and speak freely.

That’s the part of brand work people don’t always get. You can get the words right, have a great positioning line, and a quality website, but if what is happening inside the business is working against the brand promise, the brand will not hold.

Maybe that’s why this floor joist situation has been bothering me more than the money.

A few years ago, someone fixed what they knew how to fix. They put support underneath the floor and the floor felt strong again. I wanted very badly to believe the problem was resolved, but the damaged wood was still there.

I think businesses can live with that feeling for years too. Things seem to be working, revenue is coming in, customers are still calling, the new website looks better and the messaging sounds better.

And yet somewhere in the back of your mind, you know something isn’t quite right.

You can fix what you can see, and even make it feel better for a while, while the thing causing the issue that you cannot see continues to deteriorate.