Do you have a hammer spear?
Understanding the value you deliver includes understanding the value you didn’t intend to deliver
Something moved.
I sat on the couch as the clock ticked past midnight. I saw a shadow scurry along the baseboard in the dim light, and my first thought was, “Fuck…”
I had to investigate, or I’d never sleep.
I put down my laptop, rose from the cushion with my butt imprinted on it, and immediately saw the cockroach slink its way behind my desk.
Until it was outside my apartment — or dead — I would not sleep. And I really wanted some sleep.
With a sigh, I sought out my shoes. Nothing worse than a bug scuttling across your toes. Then I grabbed my handy blue flashlight and chased the bug around the perimeter of my apartment, eventually cornering it in my pint-sized bathroom.
I stood outside the door wiping the sweat off my face while considering my next steps. I could see the cockroach by bending to the left and looking in the mirror. The devious little menace had positioned itself on the wall near the ceiling, clearly aware that it ruled over the apartment.
For now.
I removed my towels to ensure a dead bug wouldn’t fall on them. I also put on pants (why they didn’t get put on with the shoes, I don’t know).
Then I grabbed my hammer spear1.
I carefully positioned the head so it was flat against the wall. The length of the handle allowed me to stand back near the tub, a solid three feet away from the bug. Once my weapon was set, I lined myself up, aware I would get one shot before it raced off to some unknown corner of my apartment.
I braced myself, counted to three, and SLAM! I thrust my spear at the wall, hitting the bug dead on. I held it there for a second, secure that, for the moment, I was in total control. So much for the high ground.
Once I removed my hammer spear, the bug fell to the floor, still twitching. I changed positions so I could slam my hammer spear into the tile over and over again until I was certain it was dead.
After a trip to the floor trash room to revive a cardboard box for a whole new purpose (bug casket), I removed the bug from my apartment.
I slept like a baby.
I don’t own an actual hammer spear. I own a Swiffer — a Swiffer Sweeper, to be precise.
One visit to the Swiffer homepage would lead you to believe that they’re in the business of making cleaning not only easier but more effective than your grandmother’s mop.
Every commercial gives you a taste of the world they’re creating, where you enjoy a beautifully clean house without all the struggle. They know that to experience this world, you have to achieve a number of things, including trapping your dirt so you don’t spread it around, removing tough spots, and cleaning all floor types.
It’s no surprise to me that they capture all of these outcomes under a new verb: swiffering.
As a value economy business, the team would monitor how well they deliver the value they intend to provide. Are their customers able to get sticky spots up with ease? How well are they able to contain pet hair? And can they do all of this with less hassle and in less time than before?
The team would learn from their customers and improve what they do and how they do it.
I’m willing to bet that nowhere in strategic conversations at Swiffer2 did someone stand up and say, “Hey! I think we should develop a hammer spear.” Swiffering doesn’t (currently) include “killing bugs swiftly and without having to touch them.”
But I get that value out of my Swiffer. And the ultimate value of a good night’s sleep.
While it’s critical to assess how well you’re delivering the value you intended, it’s also important to understand what additional, albeit unintentional, value you also deliver.
As part of identifying any unintentional value, ask the people you serve questions like, "How else do you use your Swiffer?" Balance questions with other sources of information. What people post on social media or how your product broke can provide applicable insights. Someone may use your product differently than you intended because they’ve identified an additional use (and corresponding value).
If you provide a service, explore where clients get value out of the intermediate steps of your process. You’re likely delivering more value than you realize.
Sometimes, the value you identify will align with your existing strategy and you can pursue opportunities to expand or deepen the value you deliver without losing focus. For example, I use my Swiffer dry cloths to dust things beyond the floor.
In other cases, the additional value you identify won’t align. You will need to debate and choose whether to expand your core to encompass that value or find another way to deliver it.
Both of these options hinge on there being a sufficient number of people seeking this additional layer of value. If there are only one or two people who care — *cough* lonely me with my hammer spear — then it is simply bonus value for those one or two people.
[1] Full credit for this name goes to Alex Priore who coined it as a name for the metal legs that held up our high school’s risers. That’s what my Swiffer looks like in my head when I’m wielding it.
[2] Swiffer is a brand owned by Procter & Gamble. For illustrative purposes, I’m treating Swiffer as its own business.
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