Selling Less, Understanding More
- Jan 16
- 3 min read
Early in my career, I thought sales was mostly about persuasion.
Convincing arguments. Clear value propositions. A strong closing instinct. If you understood your product well enough and articulated its benefits clearly, the logic went, adoption would follow.
Experience has a way of humbling that assumption.
Building a sales strategy around Financial Advisers—especially experienced ones—has taught me that persuasion is rarely the missing ingredient. Most advisers are not short on options. They are not waiting to be convinced that a solution exists. What they are short on is time, attention, and tolerance for complexity that doesn’t immediately earn its place.
The real challenge, I’ve learned, is proximity—not physical, but intellectual and emotional.
To be closer to advisers doesn’t mean calling them more often or presenting more slides. It means understanding how their days actually unfold. Where friction appears. What slows them down. What creates risk in their business that they may not articulate directly, but feel constantly.
A platform doesn’t succeed because it has more features.
It succeeds because it fits more naturally into someone’s workflow.
When we talk about the Veri Platform, the temptation is to lead with capability. Architecture. Flexibility. Breadth of instruments. Reporting power. All of that matters—but only after an adviser feels understood. Only after they recognise themselves in the conversation.
Sales strategy, in this context, becomes less about pushing a solution and more about translating reality.
What does “efficiency” really mean for an adviser managing dozens—or hundreds—of client relationships?
Where does compliance feel like a burden rather than protection?
Which tasks drain energy without creating value?
The closer you get to those answers, the quieter your selling becomes.
I’ve noticed that the most effective conversations are rarely the most polished ones. They’re the ones where we slow down. Where we ask fewer questions, but better ones. Where we resist the urge to immediately explain and instead sit with the problem as the adviser experiences it.
Trust doesn’t come from being impressive.
It comes from being precise.
A sales strategy built on proximity requires patience. You don’t always see immediate results. Sometimes the conversation ends without a clear next step. Sometimes adoption comes months later, after a slow internal recalibration on the adviser’s side. That delay can feel uncomfortable, especially in environments that reward speed and volume.
But closeness compounds.
Each conversation sharpens your understanding. Each objection reveals a design insight. Each hesitation tells you something about how your platform is perceived—not in theory, but in practice. Over time, your message becomes simpler, not because the product is simpler, but because you’ve learned what truly matters.
There’s also a discipline required in not overselling.
When you’re confident in a platform’s capabilities, it’s tempting to promise transformation. But experienced advisers are sceptical of big claims. They’ve heard them before. What they respect is honesty about trade-offs, limitations, and learning curves. Paradoxically, acknowledging where a platform doesn’t fit often increases credibility where it does.
Being close to advisers has also reframed how I think about “convincing.” The goal isn’t to win an argument. It’s to help someone make a decision they won’t regret six months later. That means aligning expectations, not inflating them.
In that sense, sales becomes a form of stewardship.
You’re not just introducing a tool. You’re influencing how someone runs their business, manages risk, serves clients, and allocates their own mental energy. That’s not something to rush—or manipulate.
The strongest sales strategies I’ve seen are built quietly. They evolve through listening. They are adjusted through feedback that’s sometimes uncomfortable. And they prioritise long-term fit over short-term wins.
Being closer to advisers hasn’t made selling easier.
It’s made it more honest.
And in the long run, honesty scales better than persuasion ever could.
Question
What would change in your sales or leadership approach if your primary goal was understanding before convincing?
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