Introduction

In all serious textbooks, you will find that “pedagogy” means child learning and “andragogy” means adult learning. You will also find that, generally speaking, experts believe that children learn best “when told” and adults learn “by doing.”

Maybe, maybe not: but I know I learned a lot about business just by watching my father in his business. And having his business around me until I got married and left home at the age of 26.

Here are the most important things I learned.

Positioning

Do you know the book “Positioning, the battle for the mind” by Al Ries and Jack Trout? It was first published in 1981. I think it is one of the best marketing books ever written. It is still in print.

My father practiced “positioning” throughout his business life. Their target market was small “candy stores” and “milk bars.” They especially cared for children with small amounts to spend. Officially, it was known as a “wholesale confectionery distributor.” But the only products he sold were what he called “kids lines.” Candies and candies made especially for children.

If you are old enough, you will remember walking into such a store with a quarter, dime, or penny or the equivalent. You will also remember open boxes of candy or “candy” for example, a penny or a penny each or three or five per penny or a penny. I would choose from a large number of open boxes and try to get the maximum value for your six pence or five or ten cents. The merchant would take his selection from the boxes and place them in a small bag. You would take the bag and pay.

Today candies of this type are bought in supermarkets packaged in bags of ten or twenty candies.

Dad fully specialized in selling “kid lines” to small stores. The stores were generally family businesses. It did not sell chocolate bars or candy bars or boxes of chocolates. He concentrated on selling “kids lines” to specialty stores that were frequented by children.

This is how I learned the importance of a clear business focus, a narrow, well-defined target market, and a very specific product. He never mentioned me or my brothers or sister. But we knew it. Al and Jack simply confirmed, decades later, what Dad had practiced.

Business purpose

I decided to start my own business in 1978. I discussed my plans with my accountant. His was a very successful business that he had built over a decade. It had started with just a handful of clients. He was quite rich himself.

“Why are you doing it, Leon?” I ask. “To make money, of course,” I replied. “Don’t be silly,” he replied. “Anyone can make money. What would you like to be able to do 10-15 years from now that you can’t do now?” I thought for a moment: “I would like to know a lot about Australian food and wine,” I replied. “Okay,” he said. “Do it for that. You see, you must have a purpose to be in business regardless of the business itself.”

I cannot claim to be an authority on Australian food and wine. But for the past few decades, I have eaten wonderful meals and tasted some exceptional wines.

My father understood this idea well. He ran his business so he could afford to take us two weeks of vacation to the beach every Christmas and one week every Easter. My mother also liked musical theater. Dad made sure they saw all the great musicals when they were produced in Melbourne.

He worked to make sure his business generated enough money to provide vacations and theater visits for the family. This also meant that my sister and I had swimming lessons from a young age. And I saw a stage production of Irving Berlin’s “Annie Get Your Gun” when I was only 9 years old. This kind of thing pleased my father very much.

Creating desire

Almost every time Dad stopped his truck full of sweets and candies outside a store, he drew an audience of children. Many knew who he was and what he was selling. They circled the open back door of the van, eager to see what must have looked like shelves full of gold boxes.

Dad never told the kids to leave. He realized that they were the eventual consumers of his “kids lines.” It said, “Look, but don’t touch” or “Give me room.” But he never gave away a free lollipop. If it had, it would have been competing with the merchants, its direct customers.

The children in the back of the truck were mostly boys. Dad called everyone “Jack.” “Stay away from the door, Jack,” it would say or “You can buy these right now at the Jack store.”

He was very surprised one day when a boy’s eyes widened and he said, “How did you know my name was Jack?”

Know what you don’t know

Small family businesses were Dad’s focus. The “kid lines” were his specialty. He knew relatively little about chocolates, candies, and candy boxes destined for the higher end of the market. He didn’t care that I didn’t. You are never distracted from your core business and your target market.

People often said to him: “Clem, with customers all over Melbourne, you could expand your business by selling all kinds of sweets. But he stuck to what he knew. He was often approached by candy makers wanting him to bring their “Last great thing in baking.” He resisted their approaches and flattery. He knew what he didn’t know. He trusted his customers. They trusted him.

Buy everything else around the corner

One of my favorite business sayings goes like this: “Do only those things that you bring a unique perspective to. Buy everything else around the corner.”

Dad put his personal stamp on his business. When we were kids, we learned this very quickly. He told us stories about how other “middlemen” (that’s what confectionery wholesale distributors were then called) had branched out into other confectionery-related areas, expanded their product ranges, and expanded their business.

But Dad knew more than Al and Jack pointed out decades later. The extension of the line is often the first step on the road to business failure. Do what you do best; better than anyone can. “Stick to your fabric,” as the veterans used to say. I’m not sure how dad learned that himself. But he followed the principles religiously.

Bicycle for …

I wasn’t born until 1939. Dad graduated from selling candy on a bicycle. First, he bought a horse and a cart. He had no affinity for animals. There are many family anecdotes about your problem with your horse. Before I arrived in 1939, he bought his first van. It was a Chevy, the size of what today we would call a “combivan.” In 1956 he replaced it with a large pickup. He also built a large storage room behind our house.

The bank he had dealt with since he started the business was reluctant to support the construction of the warehouse and the purchase of the large truck. Dad was disappointed. They didn’t stop him. He changed banks.

Clients first

Dad worked long hours. His job was physically demanding. He carried stacks of boxes full of candy from the van to the warehouse, from the van to the store. But he tried not to interfere with the merchant’s busy periods. He would start calling customers around 8am. It stopped around 7:30 pm. Since he worked many years before seven-day trading became commonplace in Australia, he worked only Monday through Friday and Saturday mornings.

He would visit manufacturers to buy stocks during the middle of the day. That suited them. It also meant that it avoided interfering with the merchants’ daytime trading.

His long hours did not always please my mother. But they pleased their customers.

At festive times like Christmas and Easter, Dad always tried to have special stocks available for customers. At those times, I would put aside special chocolate gifts for my sister and myself. But customers come first.

I still remember customers calling on the phone on, say, Easter, asking for chocolate Easter eggs because they were out of stock. I would always do what I could to help. This included asking my sister and me if she could “buy” our eggs and resell them. He would pay us for the purchase. We always agreed. We had access to all the candy we could eat. When we were kids, we welcomed cash!

Some other things

Dad started and ran his business between 1930 and 1971, when he retired at the age of 72. The pocket calculator, Mac, PC and cell phone, not to mention the iPad and iPhone, barely shone in the eyes of Steve Jobs and others.

But he needed to do complex calculations every day. He was an absolute “genius” at what was then called “mental arithmetic.” He used imperial measurements such as pounds and ounces, dozens – 12 – and gross – 144. Decimal currency was not adopted in Australia until 1966.

But none of this bothered my father. He could mentally calculate, say, a gross amount of acid balls at 2/6 a dozen (two shillings and six pence) minus a 2.5% volume discount and a 1.5% cash discount. He didn’t need a calculator or any other device in his pocket. They did not become in general use here until the 1970s.

He made no miscalculations. He could always explain his calculations to clients on their own terms. That was another reason they trusted him. His handwritten invoices, completed at the point of sale, were legendary.

Dad was never bothered by “hard times.” He believed, as he put it, “moms, dads, and grandparents will always find pennies so their kids can buy candy, even if they have to go without them themselves.”

The real lesson

I learn a lot about business from my father. But I don’t recall him saying, “You need a crystal clear business focus and a clearly defined target market” or “Make sure your customers trust you” or “Don’t compete with your customers” or “Have a purpose for your business other than the business itself. “

I don’t remember any specific advice from him on how to run a business. But I learned all those lessons by watching and listening.

It may be worth wondering

• What lessons do my employees learn when they look at me?
• Is what I say totally consistent with what I do?
• What do I say and do to show that I trust them?
• Do I bring a unique perspective to the business?

“Lead by example” may seem outdated. But it is still a worthy guide.