I was working with a client today who is trying to come up with a positioning statement to differentiate themselves from their competitors. They are in an industry where, unfortunately, most companies look a lot alike from the customer’s perspective. I asked the owner and one of the salesmen to articulate for me what it would feel like for one of their customers to leave them and go to a competitor. They answered that challenge by giving me a list of what equipment they had and services they offered. Their answer was about them and I wanted to know what it was like for their customer. They seemed stymied. I was struggling for an example to illustrate my point and Kraft Macaroni and Cheese came to mind.

Every now and again while doing my weekly shopping, I am briefly tempted to try another version of macaroni and cheese and save thirty cents or so. I never do. It would have to be discovered that Kraft Mac and Cheese is made by 5 year olds in a sweat shop in the Sudan, was threatening the dolphin population, poisoning the water supply or the boxes have exploding gas tanks for me to waiver from this brand. The reason is simple. About ten years ago I tried a competitor of Kraft. I remember it as if it was yesterday. The macaroni was a slightly different shape. When I mixed in the powered cheese (we can take this up on another day), it wasn’t exactly the right color. As I mixed in the margarine and milk, it wasn’t the same consistency. It sort of clumped together.  I had a feeling of impending doom as I started to put it on plates for my hungry brood – a 10, 6 and 2 year old. I pressed on, as it was almost 7:00 pm. It had already been a long day and I picked this particular menu because it can go from my head to the table in less than 9 minutes, near perfection after a day like that. I just wanted to get them fed, bathed and through story time and then gleefully head for my bedroom where control of the remote awaited because my husband was out of town. As I headed toward the table, plates of hot dogs, mac and cheese and peas in hand, I had a fleeting thought that in a worst-case scenario, the two year old would go for it.  Nope. You would have thought I had presented squirrel toes and robin beaks for dinner that evening. A chorus of comments rang out:  “What’s that?” “What’s wrong with it?” “It doesn’t look the same.” “It doesn’t taste the same.” “Why isn’t it the same color?” “It’s bad.” “I’m not eating that.” My night got better. “The hotdogs don’t smell right.” The peas aren’t green.” The peas and hotdogs were exactly the same as every other time I had served them. Somehow the weird macaroni and cheese had enveloped the whole plate.  Even the little one was turning up her nose. For a split-second, it crossed my mind that I should handle this mutiny the way my Dad would have handled it. “You’ll eat what I serve you and you’ll like it,” rang out in my head. I’m an evolved parent. When my father’s words ring in my head I usually try to do something else so back to the dinner drawing board I went, having already exhausted my 9-minute arsenal options. If the Kraft people ever ask me what it looks like to try a competitor. I can tell them. It looks like whiny kids, turned up noses, searching the fridge and pantry in desperation for a 10, 12 or even 15-minute option for dinner.  It looks like cranky kids at bath time, fighting with me over getting in, getting out and brushing their teeth. It looks like an even crankier story time ruining one of the highlights of my day. It looks like not even being able to enjoy sole control of the remote.

There are two big lessons here. If there isn’t much difference between what you do and what your competitors do, you’re going to lose your customers eventually. If there is a big difference between doing business with you and doing business with your competitor but you don’t know what it will feel like for your customers if they leave, you can’t stop them from trying.