The Psychology of "Consultant" vs. "Employee" Existence
It all starts with that one-on-one conversation and conveying to the decision maker across the desk they need you more that you need them...
Despite some of the challenges breaking into the political campaign world — and making it my livelihood during the 90’s through about 2005 — it was the very best proving ground for developing skillset and survival self-confidence.
Without campaigns, I’d have never really understood Washington or how to get ahead.
The harsh, bottom line campaign world teaches you that you’re always working for yourself — no matter what anyone says or promises.
Working as “part of the team” at a traditional government relations, public relations or other firm is great — until you’re not.
With layoffs, AI integration, mergers, acquisitions — and other variables beyond your control — today’s comfortable employee can quickly become tomorrow’s marginalized personnel department baggage.
Your future is in someone else’s hands.
Totally unacceptable.
Every transition from a valued employee becoming a consultant to their firm starts with that key one-on-one conversation: conveying to the “boss” across the desk through words, vibe and non-verbal cues that they need you more that you need them.
It’s not about being rude, greedy or anything of that nature — it’s just business.
That’s why I believe hardened “campaign people” with a proven track record of landing on their feet no matter an electoral outcome are most psychologically and conditionally well-suited to taking this plunge.
These people know how to survive — and will do anything necessary (legally) to do so. They’re not strangers to 16 hour days… for months on end… 7 days a week.
Campaigns were my life… for years. And that was the right choice for me, until later experiencing a gee whiz moment: My entire professional life revolved around a candidate’s schedule.
Where was my schedule? I didn’t have one.
More on “getting a life” in subsequent posts.
My first political consulting firm, Strategic Media, Inc., was a 4 employee Subchapter S shop setup in 1997 at 31st and N Street, in Georgetown.
The background: I was outgoing National Republican Senatorial Committee (NRSC) communications director, having served there since 1995. Getting that plum D.C. political gig took years of campaign sweat equity outside the Beltway.
I loved the NRSC job, and thrived in that high profile public position despite my preference for sitting in backrooms of fly-by-night, strip-mall campaign headquarters looking at fresh poll numbers and new negative TV ads with other consultants. I couldn’t get enough of it.
Par for the course, upon leaving the NRSC, I received a half-dozen calls from name brand public relations firms wanting to discuss post-NRSC employment opportunities.
I was pleased with the options presented. But my already independent mindset hardened when I kicked the tires and actually went inside these places for a look.
Regardless of a good starting salary why, I thought, would I possibly want to serve in some V.P.-type public relations job in what amounted in my mind to an “apprentice-like” capacity?
I didn’t want to “work my way up” to “Senior V.P.”… or “Executive V.P.”… or whatever title many coveted.
I didn’t want to travel to places I didn’t like, or work for clients I didn’t support.
And office politics? Please. In my mind, I’d already paid my dues three times over.
Chip on my shoulder? Yeah, maybe. But I believed I already had more tangible communications and writing skills than the vast majority of the folks I’d be working with and for — most of whom had never ventured beyond the comfort and safety of Beltway employment.
I realize now that was a positive, self-empowering way to think as it only served to bolster belief in myself.
The pr firm arguments and rationales about how I’d have a safety net of great clients fell flat because I’d already been out in the free-market hustling up my own campaign clients.
These jobs just weren’t for me.
I also knew — intuitively and through experience — that any cocky attitude on my part would soon encounter the free-market meat grinder, where excessive self-regard is shredded and ego pulverized.
Any overconfidence on my part would soon meet reality.
So I passed on several generous K Street offers and proceeded to line up a few incumbent U.S. Senators and Governors as clients. How? Making some calls, putting myself into the marketplace, and sitting across the desk from the campaign managers, consultants and candidates themselves.
Not only did it work out well, the process was a great confidence-builder in its own right.
The bottom line is that becoming a “consultant” is premised on skill and reputation — but it’s also about psychology. It’s convincing the person sitting across the desk to pay when you’re not physically at their office or campaign headquarters every day.
Yes, they’ll see your content, see and hear your counsel and advice on calls, and rightfully expect to see solid value from your ongoing involvement — as they should.
That’s a huge hurdle to leap — but once you’ve done it, you never look back.
I’ve found personally that those who produce high quality content — coupled with experiential-based knowledge and expertise — are best suited to get what they want during one-on-one discussions.
Working out a fee structure and terms is secondary to first getting them to realize: “Damn, I REALLY need this person and their expertise and skills to be successful.”
Equally important? Having the confidence to walk away from a discussion with a smile and firm handshake. That can be key to ultimately getting what you want.
But depending on the value you offer — and the nature of your marketplace — there’s a good chance you’ll get a call-back later down the line, whether it’s 4 weeks, 4 months, or even 4 years.
And you’ll never know this in the first place if you don’t take that initial dive into consulting with confidence and a good sense going in of your true market value.
Just Do It seems cavalier — but thats what it amounts to.