‘We do not see things as they are, we see things as we are’.

Anaïs Nin

As Axel Vervoordt says ‘there is an art to living in a house’. So, I believe there is an art to living in a land. A land that is not your place of origin, not your birthplace. For all of us there must be a place we associate with our earlier lives, a place where we ‘grew up’. A place we identify with above all others.

Yet, many of us choose to live elsewhere, some of us permanently. Many of us choose to see the world through a stranger’s gaze — not until our return flight or even for the time being — but for the rest of our lives.

We cannot be everywhere at once therefore, we cannot see the whole world in one gaze. We can though, be in a part of that world, a part that is partially foreign (thank you globalisation) or for the most part completely foreign.

Then we see parts. Not the fleeting, superficial, contrived parts that the tourist sees but, deep, intricate, often bewildering parts that the stranger sees.

There is nothing exotic about a post office, petrol station or park but, to see it through a stranger/foreigner’s eyes is to see another world entirely.

Remember that everything we see is framed by the culture, society, history, religion and experiences that form our background and therefore we may not be seeing the same things as the local who’s frame of reference is very different from ours.

And the stranger must get used to this, scratching the surface to find another layer, then another and another…

Perhaps the art I refer above is to not try too hard. To not try too hard to fit in and to not try too hard to stand out. But to try hard to see, hear, feel…sense everything that makes you a stranger and to appreciate it for what it is.

And never to forget that it will be a stranger’s gaze; it will always be a stranger’s gaze.

And remember, we do not see things as they are, we see things as we are.

More on this in future Briefs.

In his book ‘Essentialism’ Greg McKeown describes the three principles we should observe to take control of our lives, work, careers and everything else in between.

The second of these principles is that ‘only a few things really matter’.

This idea resonates with me and it is something I try to impress upon my clients time and time again. When you are communicating with people and you have a goal or objective; be it to influence, gain support, change mindsets or behaviours… there are only a few things that you need to say.

The challenge is in identifying those things before you start to speak.

To do this we have to let go of the ‘all we want’ to say and put ourselves in the audience’s position and consider what they need to hear. Once we have understood what the audience needs to hear we can then begin to craft what we plan to say to make the most of this insight.

Let me illustrate this with an example. Some years ago I was working for an architectural/interior design office in Beijing, China. It was a large office and one of many globally. The staff were rightly proud of the company’s achievements around the world and their impressive client/project list.

We were invited to pitch for a prestigious project in a recently completed Grade A CBD tower. The client was completely new to China, this was to be their first office there and if expansion went according to plan, their China headquarters for many years to come. The client was Scandinavian and an engineering firm in the energy sector — in other words they were meticulous in their approach to business and work and they were risk averse.

Our office quickly put a team together for the pitch and we met to go through how the pitch should go.

The first part would cover company introduction, including history, key people, global locations, project list, similar clients, project team by member, services we could offer… the list seemed endless.

After this the second part would talk about the design proposals, the space planning options, the proposed project timeline, the code compliance issues, the likely budgets required for completion etc.

The problem with this plan was that the first part of the pitch was what we ‘wanted’ to say about ourselves.

Moreover, all this information was readily available on our website and in

the capability statement we had already sent to them. They had obviously already seen this information because researching our company was part of the due diligence process the client followed in order to decide whether to give us the chance to pitch our designs to them, that day.

Why go over this information again during our first chance to meet them in person?

To make matters worse, the other five competing companies (also presenting that day) would most likely structure their presentations in exactly the same way. That amounts to six design companies talking
for around six hours about the same thing — themselves.

I suggested a different approach based on the idea that ‘only a few things really matter’. Find and understand these elements and build the pitch around them.

After brief discussion we realised that what the client really needed were the things that our competitors could not give to them. And these were two very simple factors that positioned to us as undeniably the best qualified team for the job.

By taking a step back and putting ourselves in the client’s position we realised they were rightly nervous about the project. No-one on the client team was experienced in handling an interior fit-out, the project was to be the first in a country they knew very little about — a lot was riding on the success of the project and to make matters worse non of them spoke Chinese and they didn’t intend on hiring a Chinese speaking project manager for the project. In effect they were completely in the hands of whichever design team they appointed. Therefore, they had to trust that team implicitly.

Here is where the ‘only a few things really matter’ rule became so critical.

For this project what two factors were going to make the client trust our team more than the others?

Knowledge and communication.

Only one of the other design companies had completed a project in that building — only one project. We had completed over fifteen — effectively around 70% of the building’s floor space. That meant we knew the building inside out, we had submitted and successfully gained building management and Fire Security Bureau approvals more than 15 times since the building had been completed and we had a strong working relationship with the building management.

Our knowledge of the building and what we need to do to successfully complete the project was demonstrable and undeniable.

Secondly, only one of the other bidding companies was international and employed native English speaking architects, designers and project managers. Communications with this company should be straight forward but critically they had not yet worked in the building. The other four competitor companies were local Beijing firms employing no native English speakers at all.

Our ability to communicate with the client was second to non as around 60% of our office staff were either native English speaking professionals or locals who had professional working proficiency in English.

To highlight these facts I made only two slides for my part of the pitch; one said 70% the other English.

For the 70% slide I showed the visual (the figure 70% bold, white on black), let them read it for a moment and then announced ‘we have designed 70% of the interior space in this building’.

I gave the audience a moment to let that fact sink in.

For the second slide I showed the word English (bold, white on black), let them read it for a moment and then told them ‘you can discuss any aspect of your project with anyone from the project team and communication will be two way and productive’.

It took no more than two minutes to explain the background to both the above slides — two minutes out of an allotted hour. It was the only point, so far, during the presentation where everyone from the client side stopped taking notes, stopped tapping on their laptops, stopped scrolling through their smart phones and listened intently to the presenter.

When I stopped speaking they looked at each other, nodded agreement and relaxed.

With the client now reassured and newly attentive; we were then in the prefect position to talk them through our plans and concepts.

By focusing on the few things that really mattered we had understood
their fears, highlighted the problems they faced and told them exactly how, with our help, they could mitigate these challenges and successfully complete their first project in China.

From that point on, the design options and project planning were merely the cherry on the cake.

This month’s Dispatch carries on with the theme above. You can think of your presentation, your presentation slides, your speech or answers in interviews as either ‘signals’ or ‘noise’.

The signals you give should always be the things that really matter. They need to be received, deciphered and understood as easily as is possible. Noise interferes with and disrupts this process. We must learn to focus on the things that really matter and keep the noise out of our communications.

‘In Asia the Gods Live in Darkness’ (read in a long forgotten museum catalogue in Kathmandu) with photo taken at Gunung Agung, active

volcano and Bali’s most sacred mountain.

Music for Strangers.

Going back to the top of this Brief and thinking about travelling. I always associate certain types of music with either places or seasons. I tend to listen to jazz in the warmer months and classical music during the colder months and much of the music I listen to has a very strong connection to places that I have lived.

I have a ‘soft spot’ for atmospherics and I think the music I choose often works with the atmosphere of the place I associate it with.

The David Sylvian album ‘Words With The Shaman’ is one such album. I first heard this soon after finishing university and whilst living in North Yorkshire, England (a very beautiful part of the country) but hearing this gave me the feeling that I had a deep need to be somewhere else. To experience something other than that which I was accustomed to, something exotic.

I always associate the music with the beginning of journeys, the start of adventure. It may well be the music that prompted my first journey to Asia, many years ago.

You can hear the various parts of ‘Words With The Shaman’ here:

One of Sylvian’s collaborators on the album was the late experimental jazz trumpeter Jon Hassell.

Hassell’s 1977 album Vernal Equinox was almost constant listening for me during the many years I lived and travelled in the tropics. Even now sitting in my study in Japan looking out at a meticulously manicured park, if I put the album on I am immediately transported to a place heavy with humid air, the scent of clove cigarettes and the constant screech of millions of insects at night.

There is a darkness and depth to both pieces of music. Hypnotic rhythms behind intricate textures draw you forward toward something unknown, dark and ancient.

And you can hear ‘Vernal Equinox’ here:

Nicholas Raistrick | Communication Strategist, LABtokyo

Nicholas founded LABtokyo 10 years ago with the express commitment to helping people communicate to their highest potential.

We work with private individuals and corporate groups by delivering training and coaching programmes specifically designed to enhance all facets of interpersonal communication.

If you are interested in learning more please write to us here or check our website at labtokyo.com.

We are always more than happy to hear from you.