This is the second installment in a four-part series on using metaphors in sales.
March 22, 2023
In 1988, Interplay Entertainment released Battle Chess, whose floppy disks eventually made their way to the hard drive of my Amiga 500. We’d learned to play chess in elementary school, but nothing like this. When a move triggered a capture, a cheerful 2.5-D animation showed pieces battling.
A pawn opened up a mysterious portal in the board, then dropped a bishop through it. A knight chopped off a knight’s arm, then his other arm, then his leg, with the resulting frantic hop as a nod to Monty Python. The castle rook’s stonework dissembled, reforming to a rock-monster that chomped the Queen down its gullet, her legs flailing. The King crept around slowly but, if put into check, often showed he could nimbly defend himself with scepter or pistol. Although the notion of chess as a defense of empire had been present all along, this computer game brought the metaphor to life and got me hooked.
Last week, I asked you to consider the power of using metaphor in your sales practice. Metaphor triggers a unique and significant brain response. If you commit to a conceit, which is a metaphorical framework extended over the length of a presentation (or speech, or letter), that’s even craftier; you’re optimizing impact while minimizing the energy required for processing. Unlike simile, which emphasizes the maker-ship of explicit comparison (“X is like Y”)—and requires buy-in from your audience—metaphors are assertively transformative (“X is Y”). But all of this feels a little abstract until we get into the specifics. Cue one of the vehicles that can be used in sales, which is the metaphor of battle.
In other words: Ready, aim, fire!
In other words: Damn the torpedoes, full steam ahead.
Ever since (and probably before) the 5th-Century BC publication of The Art of War, also known as Sun Tzu’s Military Method, people have recognized the relevance of battle’s strategies and tactics to larger contexts of business, politics, and shaping public opinion. In George Lakoff and Mark Johnson’s seminal 1980 work, Metaphors We Live By, they went so far as to posit, “Argument is war.” War metaphors are so deeply embedded in the late 20th-Century American discourse that a 2005 study by Michael Karlberg and Leslie Buell, for Journal of Peace and Conflict Studies, demonstrates a frequency of, between 1981 and 2000, 17% of all articles in Time and 15% of all articles published in Newsweek as using a minimum of one war metaphor per article.
How does this metaphor permeate the world of sales? Sometimes one company “battles” another for market share; sometimes, we evaluate our assets as “ammunition” and “firepower”; sometimes, in the case of a merger, there’s a perception of needing to “protect the home front.” Pitches to customers may position a service’s value as an opportunity to “fight off” or “defend against” a negative circumstance, whether micro (a tax audit) or macro (global warming).
We reach for metaphors of war because they add urgency. In a 2017 study for Environmental Communication, Stephen J. Flusberg, Teenie Matlock, and Paul H. Thibodeau looked at the dialogue around climate change. They controlled circumstances in terms of volume and rhythm of messaging, and used a demographically varied audience. From there, the researchers made a case for emission-reduction goals using three frameworks: 1) advocating for the “issue” of climate change, 2) the “race against” climate change, or 3) the “war on” climate change.
Respondents characterized their emotional response; their willingness to make financial commitments, such as paying for carbon offset costs or making donations; and their motivation to adjust lifestyle choices, such as the use of air-conditioning. Those who were presented the framework of a war on climate change consistently reported the most urgency, and the perception of highest risk. In turn, they were most willing to alter their behaviors based on this understanding.
If metaphors of war are so effective, why not use them freely?
Perhaps that makes sense in the short term. But as anyone in the world of sports can appreciate, there are complications when you’re playing the long game. Let’s say you characterize your rival baseball team as “The Enemy” for five, six, seven years running. What happens when their star pitcher gets traded to your team—is he now “The Enemy” in your midst? Is he irredeemable? Is he a spy for the opposition?
Or do you set aside wartime metaphors, to embrace him as your best shot at winning the World Series?
Our brain science makes associations slippery, because humans are quick to engage in metonymy, which is a kind of relationship-making that is slightly different from metaphor. Think of it as the “producer-for-product” paradigm. In Rebecca Zhu’s 2021 study for Cognitive Development, children show a rudimentary appreciation that when someone makes something, their output is recognizable using their name (e.g., a “Picasso,” a “Monet,” or a “Degas”). When prompted to point to a “[artist name],” and without any pre-study or other explicit knowledge of the artist, a four-to-five-year-old child instinctually points to the painting or object—not the paintbrush, or other tool of production—as long as the name feels conventional (or plausibly familiar in their cultural frame). By age eight to nine, this ability is standardized regardless of the familiarity of the last name within their cultural framework.
Metonymy is a mode we carry forward into our adult lives. Every heard someone refer to a new “Chanel” or “Jimmy Choos” in their wardrobe? Ever asked if someone has seen a movie by asking, “Have you seen the new Scorcese?”
That’s metonymy. Metonymy is powerful, and instinctive. Metaphors of war are urgent and persuasive. Yet combining the two can be perilous, because you’re setting your team up for a battle that is framed in ad hominem terms. To battle the product is to battle the man (or woman, or nonbinary person).
Again, down the road, the “sides” may no longer be so clear. Let’s say that the star Business Development Representative for your competitor comes over to work with your company: is he now “The Enemy” in your midst, irredeemable, or maybe even a spy? Or do you embrace him as your best shot at (so to speak) winning the World Series?
One of Maestro Group’s mantras is, “Control what you can control.” When I work with people on their essays, speeches, and correspondence, I’m always reminded that there are certain parts of language that we take for granted based on individual histories: which word choices feel conversational, which feel formal, and what the associations are for our analogies. You’re inclined to think that your personal reference points are universal reference points, and that you’re controlling how they are received. Trust me—they’re not.
That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t use personal references points, because our vocabularies is part of what makes us authentic. But you have to give a little extra care, and be open to a trusted reader’s advice, if you want to connect with your maximum audience. Remember, there are connotations that you cannot anticipate when you use the metaphors of battle.
So many of the scientific studies I looked at, when indexing the utility of “war” as a framing concept, acknowledged an American-specific demographic. But an American-specific demographic is not appropriate to understanding the sales landscape in 2023. America is a young country, and one could argue that our vocabulary is young in regard to military action. The phrasings and emotions associated with “fighting” and “war,” et alia, are different whether you’re in Florida, or New Delhi, or Hong Kong, or Shanghai, or Nairobi, or Kabul, or Kyiv. If you want to attract business and partnership with locations all over the world, use a lexicon welcoming and appropriate for all over the world.
Next week, we’ll look at another common trope, which is describing your organization in terms of family dynamics. We’ll think through what makes this metaphor work, where it can go wrong, and how to deploy it (conceit intended) more effectively.
Let us fill your metaphorical toolbox. Reach out at mastery@maestrogroup.co to find out more about our live trainings and self-paced learning modules.
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