Concerned about occasional customer complaints about pricing, a specialized veterinary clinic was at a loss. It wasn’t like the staff were all spending their giant paychecks on Jaguars and Italian shoes. The clinic was constantly reinvesting in state-of-the art equipment and continuing education for technicians, assistants, and veterinarians. The vets donated tons of of time to the international boards, state veterinary school, and local shelters.
And every cat who came in to the clinic received unparalleled care — before an appointment ends, she will have been seen by a veterinary assistant, a veterinary technician, and the veterinarian. If a cat needed surgery, there were always a vet and two vet techs working the procedure, not just the vet and an assistant.
If only everyone knew the value of what they were paying for! Surely the complaints would stop. So the clinic began posting its credentials. Diplomas, commendations, awards covered the walls. And some people kept complaining.
Worried about losing clients, the clinic did a survey of pricing of other, non-specialty vets around the area and cut some of its prices. Within a couple of months, it was operating in the red. It didn’t know how to cut its prices further without sacrificing service. It was determined not to sacrifice service.
And yet people were still complaining.
Almost as an act of desperation, they agreed to pay for some focus groups. I told them that I wanted a list of their favorite clients, and a list of the people who would be their favorite clients if only they weren’t bitching so much about prices. I said, “Let’s see what the difference is between the two groups. Then we can go out and look for more people like the ones in the non-complaining group (we’ll call them Group A) and let the complainers (Group B) take their business to the cheap vets, since they don’t appreciate you anyway.”
The vet expected to find a difference in income, education, marital status, proximity to the clinic, gender, presence of children at home. What we found was this:
Group A: “My 16-year old diabetic cat needs injections every day. Last Christmas, we called a family meeting and we had a vote: Christmas presents or medicine for the cat. We voted medicine for the cat.”
Group B: “Are you nuts? It’s a cat.”
There it was. People’s willingness to pay high prices for veterinary care wasn’t about how much they valued the veterinarian. It was about how much they valued the cat. They weren’t spending money on veterinary services; they were spending money on the cat.
The clinic discovered through this process that it wasn’t just in the business of providing health care for cats; it was in the business of keeping a family’s beloved cat happy, healthy, and in the family for as long as possible. It came to understand that its “patients” weren’t just the cats, but the cats’ owners as well, who needed to have their relationships with their cats supported and affirmed.
The veterinary clinic would never have learned this by sending out a survey, because the survey questions would have been developed in line with what the vet thought was most important — credentials, expertise, experience. What was most important to its clients, though, was their relationship with this valued member of the family.
Learning this created a whole new marketing opportunity for the Cat Care Clinic: to groom “perfect” clients by helping foster deep bonds between pets and their owners early in the pet’s life. Now, when you go to the Cat Care Clinic with your brand new kitten, everyone who isn’t otherwise occupied rushes to the waiting room to have a peek and coo over your find. The proud cat owner puffs up her chest and thinks proudly, yes, I did indeed find the most adorable kitten ever, didn’t I? (Granted, the clinic staff were already doing that, which is why the non-complainers loved this clinic in the first place. One man in the focus group had said, “I go to the Cat Care Clinic because they don’t make you feel crazy for loving your cat.”)
Then the assistant pulls out a camera and takes the kitten’s picture — and hands you a baby book to paste the picture into.
All around the office walls, little quizzes are posted which ask questions like: What does it mean when your cat walks with its tail straight up in the air? How does purring happen? What does it mean when your cat turns her ears around? All of the questions are intended to start an owner paying attention to the quirks and personality of her cat, to begin forging that bond. Now there are very few clients of this clinic who would scoff, Are you nuts? It’s a cat!
Moral: Pricing issues are hardly ever about price — they’re about value. If people are talking about price, it’s because you yet haven’t tapped in to what it is they truly care about.
Even if the clinic had suspected that love of cat was playing a significant role in owners’ attitudes toward price, it still would probably not have learned what it needed to learn from a survey. If it were to ask, for example, for people to rate how much they love their cats on a scale of one to five, almost everyone would surely have answered “five.” But the trouble with surveys and scales is that one person’s “five” is another person’s “Are you nuts? It’s a cat.” You can’t learn anything about love by asking people to rate something on a scale of one to five. The only way you can find out about love is by listening to people’s stories.
Lesson: Marketing isn’t just about promotions and advertising. It is about giving people a terrific experience that is relevant to your business and their desires.
Notice that none of the stuff the clinic is doing now has anything to do with what we think of as “marketing.” That’s because marketing isn’t about telling people what to buy. It’s about connecting what people want with what you have to offer.
Think of every experience people have with your business as “marketing.” Yes, you need high quality to stay in the game. But that’s not the only thing people are paying for.
Tip: My pets have better health insurance than I do. I get it from Veterinary Pet Insurance.