Those of you who've been reading our blog for years will know that BJ and I share a passion for music - although I'd argue that while we're about equal on the passion front, I win hands-down on taste...! 

My tastes might be described as eclectic. A recent long flight saw me hiding away in my headphones listening to a real mix of things I'd downloaded recently. The new Arctic Monkeys album. A couple of artists I'd read about and loved - world music from Bombino, electronica from Jon Hopkins, and a smattering of classical work I'd not previously heard by Gabriel Faure (whose Requiem is one of the most amazing things I know). 

And then I went back to some older stuff. Editors' most recent album, from last year, lasted a few tracks before I swapped over to their masterpiece, "In This Light And On This Evening" - track after track of pure brilliance. That led me to Beirut's "The Rip Tide", and onto Latvian band Brainstorm's  "Among the Suns" (from ). And then I moved onto the award-winning score of King Charles III, very probably (and this really is saying something) the best new play I've seen in London so far this decade. 

But on the way through my latest downloads, I did find a few new things that didn't detain me for very long at all. That first chord that didn't chime, for me. That lyric that seemed too contrived. That highly recommended artist, whose stuff just wasn't to my taste. That band I've tried over the years, loved by friends, who somehow simply don't work for me. 

The relevance to proposals? The desire of evaluators to hear something new, especially from folks who've come highly recommended. The way they'll take quick decisions: does your document resonate - or jar with them - from the very start? Does it create an emotional bond? 

The suppliers you'll keep inviting back, but who are never going to win. The old favourites, whose new proposals you'll always approach in a positive disposition. 

How would your next proposal fare on Spotify? Would it even make the evaluators' playlist? 

​And will it be so good they'll be talking about it in years to come? 

An aside in an article the other day reminded me of a technique I used to use all the time: "What if...?" So I thought I'd put myself in the position of a proposal support team, and have a play...

What if... when we’re the incumbent, the opportunity never got to a competitive RFP, unless the client simply had no choice?

What if... we knew about - and had already actively worked on - all of the must-win renewals and new opportunities that we'd be called on to support, many months in advance?

What if... we only worked on new business opportunities when we were absolutely confident we could win?

What if... every time we opened an RFP we'd decided to chase, we recognised our language in the document and knew it played to our strengths?

What if... we'd written most of the content for our proposal before the RFP ever landed?

What if... our win themes were so compelling that, were our competitors to learn them, they'd "no bid".

What if... we could draw on brilliant writers and superb designers, so that proposals were by a long way the best documents to leave our company's doors?

What if... our technology we used to help us run proposals was the coolest out there?

What if... our proposal presentations were so good that the evaluators would be telling colleagues and friends about them for weeks?

What if... we never had to work ungodly hours, or give up our weekends, because "that's the only way we can get it done"?

What if... colleagues clamoured to work on proposals, and found their day jobs so dull in comparison?

What if... as a result of our contribution to our organisation's success, our proposal support function was recognised as a business-critical team, championed by our friends in the C-suite!

What if... we were seen in the profession as the team to be part of, and rewarded commensurately?

Oh, but I could play for hours. And, you know, none of these needs be an impossible dream. Is it time to take the journey from "What if..." to "What happens is..."

Posted by Jon

As those who have attended a workshop I’ve presented - or those for whom Strategic Proposals has provided support on a live response development effort will have heard (and it is hoped, remembered!) - the criteria for what constitutes a high-impact, high-quality proposals fall into one of two categories:
1) Information: “What the proposal says”
2) Presentation: “How the information is presented.”
 
On the list of criteria under Information is ‘appropriately weighed’.*  That is, the amount of information provided is of an appropriate length. The appropriateness being based on the importance of the topic to the client. There’s also the matter of balance as no one topic should be covered in such length as to over-shadow and eclipse the other topics presented.    
 
At last month’s APMP Bid & Proposal Con, many of the sessions were panels**. I was on the panel for “Metrics That Mean Something”. (Thanks to Helene Courard for a great job as moderator). My fellow panelists and I each had a chance to express our views on what we felt were the appropriate measurement criteria for proposals. The panelists*** having respect for one another, as well as Helene having a great set of questions to guide the conversation, ensured the amount of time and information offered by each panelist was - as is the case in a high-scoring proposal - evenly and appropriately weighed.
 
In one panel this was not the case. In that particular session the moderator was less skilled and one of the panelists dominated the session. This was commented on by many of the attendees. They said they would have preferred to hear less from that one panelist and that they were disappointed they didn’t get to hear more from the others. They commented that it appeared the panelist dominating the session showed a lack of respect for the other panelists and the session felt unbalanced.
 
It is the same within a proposal. If one topic is covered in great detail, while other topics, equally important to the client, are covered in significantly less detail, the client will be left wanting less information on one topic and more on others. The proposal will feel unbalanced and will ultimately likely receive a lower score because of it. 
 

*The other criteria under ‘Information’ are:
- Client/customer centric
- Compelling
- Compliant (to instructions)
- Complete (addresses all requirements, answers all questions [all parts])
- Clear
- Concise
- Relevant
- Appropriately weighted 

** The majority of the sessions at this year’s conference were panels, which was a change from previous conferences. In my opinion, and in the opinion of many attendees with whom I spoke, the pendulum perhaps had swung a bit too far and there were too many panels.
 
 *** My fellow panelists included Erin Andersen, Nigel Denis (all the way from Australia!) and Howard Nutt. Nice job all!

Posted by BJ

I listened with interest to a panel session on virtual teams at APMP's  revent Bid & Proposal Con in San Diego. This has been one of my pet areas of research over the past year. In one recent workshop on the topic, I popped up a slide asking the attendees to define a ‘virtual team’. Much discussion ensued, and then I shared the Harvard Business Review’s perspective from June 2013:

Work groups which (1) have some core members who interact primarily through electronic means, and (2) are engaged in interdependent tasks.

Quickly, though, I just cleared the slide, and replaced it with a new one. It simply read:

Business as usual

You know, when I set up and ran my first bid centre back in 1999 (for Compaq), proposal teams were invariably co-located. Woe betide that salesperson who didn’t think it was important to sit alongside the team in our war rooms for the duration of the battle!

These days are long gone, for the majority of proposal efforts. Sure, the best teamworking, creativity and quality generally result when people are co-located – and, to quote HBR again, “trust needs touch”. But we know that bidding these days combines the skills of colleagues dotted far and wide across the country – or the globe.

The danger, in leadership terms, is that we focus on the task, but not on the individuals or the team. There are a whole set of tactics to deal with this. A few I love:

• A ‘meet the team’ document, circulated at the start: photographs, “on this bid, I’ll be…”, “at the same time, I’m…” and “outside work I like to…”
• Connecting the team at the start of meetings: “what’s happening in your world outside this bid?” / “what’s the weather like in…” / “share something good…”
• Actively sense-checking the mood of the team, at the start of or between meetings – e.g.: “on a scale of 0 to 10, how are you feeling about…” 
• The ‘virtual water cooler’ - set times for the team to talk, without a specific agenda: what HBR  calls “planned spontaneity”.

And then there are the dreaded hours spent on conference calls or on Skype. Everyone’s muted. Literally: their lines are silenced until they want to speak. And figuratively, too: there’s a risk that the discussions are low energy, and don’t engage and involve all those who could and should contribute. 

And when people are (physically) muted, what are they doing? Reading emails. Typing notes. Working on their RFP answers (if only!). Walking the dog. Playing with the kids. Making coffee. Driving. At an airport or on the train, sharing confidential information with anyone nearby.

What are they not doing? Concentrating on the call: giving their all, in an appropriate environment.

So: unmute. Sure, you’ll hear a bit of background noise, just as you do in any conversation: as I write this, in London’s Institute of Directors, I can hear a buzz from discussions at neighbouring tables. And if you’re leading the call, you can always force lines onto mute if there’s a real issue.

But you’ll be amazed at what happens, if your team members know that this is the new house rule. People actually setting time aside for the calls. Concentrating. Contributing. Being creative. 

​Try it! I’ve been using the technique for months now, and it works a dream. I’d love to hear your experiences. 

Posted by Jon

I’m back in the office today after a marvellous week in Sydney, where I had the honour of presenting the opening keynote speech at the ‘Limitless’ conference. Organised by APMP’s ANZ chapter, this is the largest event of the year for bid and proposal specialists in the APAC region – and was outstandingly well organised.

As ever at these events, there were some fascinating quotes from presenters. Here are a couple from Emma Bannister of PresentationStudio: “a good presentation is usually sparse” and “you’re better off having no slides than bad slides”. Both very much echo our approach to pitching.

Belinda Coates of property and construction advisory company Slattery noted that “bid managers are the heartbeat of an organisation”. I enjoyed her provocative challenges on how important it is to keep abreast of industry developments. Complete the following sentences: “I commit to going to at least one networking event per _____” and “I look at my LinkedIn feed at least ___times per day.” (Her answers were ‘week’ and ‘three’).

And there was one stand-out session which I just know I’ll look back on in years to come and think: “That was the first time I heard about that.” Grant Butler gave a fascinating insight into the potential role of Artificial Intelligence in proposals. I hadn’t heard of the likes of Persado, Articoolo or Acrolinx – and I’m not sure from first sight I’d roll them out enterprise-wide just yet. But as indicators of a direction of travel that could bring real benefit, say, five years out, the session was fascinating. I need to read more about these – and, especially, about Salesforce Einstein: potentially a real game-changer.

Amidst the work (which included delivering an APMP Foundation course for a law firm in Hong Kong en route), there was some fun too. I thoroughly enjoyed spending time with our friends from BidWrite, the Aussie equivalent of Strategic Proposals. We share such similar outlooks on the world of bidding – and similar taste in wine. The Penfolds Bin 389 was rather wonderful.

And, perhaps most importantly, I got to stroke a koala…
​

​Posted by Jon
 
I've been lucky enough to have spent the past nine days working in Budapest. For those who don't know Hungary's capital, it really is one of Europe's loveliest cities.
 
Work-wise, the trip was a roaring success. Feedback scores on the six courses I ran – for over 110 attendees in total - was, in order, 98%, 99%, 93%, 94%, 98% and 95%. (These days, for what it's worth, I view a score in the low 90s as disappointing! I'm a hard taskmaster to myself). And that was for events containing lots of refreshed material on, for example, leading virtual teams - drawing on our own experiences as well as the latest research.
 
The delegates' comments were generous, too. Whilst 'happy sheets' at the end of the day don't always correlate with real business impact, I left with confidence that we’d engineered a step change in motivation, confidence and capability for the participants. Near-shored proposal teams can bring such benefits to their organisations. They can also face such challenges. Helping the mainly young, invariably enthusiastic course participants to navigate some of those was a delight.
 
Alongside the lovely people were the delights of the city - especially, here, some excellent food and even better wine. Under the tutelage of my favourite UK wine merchant, I've come to appreciate the joys not only of a good Tokaji dessert wine, but also some of Hungary's finest reds, rarely exported. Top-notch Cabernet Franc from the Villany region, for example, or the sensational yet scarce Barbar.
 
I ate this time in two outstanding restaurants - at my cost, I might add, not the client's! The first holds a Michelin star, yet is the most relaxed and informal place you could imagine. Sitting outside. Wearing jeans. Joking with the waiters. And eating food that was simple yet sublime. The second, not yet starred - although recommended by Michelin. An excellent meal. Yet trying just a tad too hard.
 
Outside tables... crisp tablecloths.
 
Relaxed informality... staff taking themselves oh-so-seriously.
 
A short yet excellent wine list... a tome.
 
Plain tableware... appetisers arriving on beds of polished stone, amidst forest twigs.
 
Food that seemed almost surprisingly marvellous... dishes that tried just a shade too hard to impress. (“Please use the pestle and mortar to crush the herbs we have cut freshly for you, in their bed of liquid nitrogen, before we add your wild apple sorbet”…)
 
A meal that had won that coveted star... and one that felt so desperate to do so.
 
And if my week working with the proposal folks highlighted one thing, it was the need to create that apparently effortless rapport with the client. To write proposals that create genuine empathy, showing passion for delivering the proposed project professionally. That takes real effort. Real skill.
 
But, you know, I can't help thinking that some proposals come across like the second restaurant: as if they're trying too hard to impress. The true art is in creating documents that feel naturally engaging. How do yours fare?

Comedian Jo Brand told a wonderful story of how she handles audiences, at an event to which we took a group of SP guests last night in London.

It helps, she said, to think of the audience as a person. To paraphrase her examples: the late crowd in the comedy club might be a drunk man. A gentler group in a more upmarket venue could be a diner in a vegetarian restaurant. And one can then adapt and adjust one’s style on stage to strike the right note and have the right conversation.

I immediately made the connection to our world, and I think I’ll try this out in proposal strategy workshops moving forward. “Were the client a person, who would they be?”

I’ve done bids to evaluation teams who seem to be aloof, superior and ‘know it all’. I’ve done others to teams who seem to be in panic mode, desperate for help. Yet more can seem distant, slightly uncertain of themselves. Some come across as confident yet engaging.

Perhaps just the characteristics would be enough. Perhaps we could come up with a caricature (verbal, or sketched). Or maybe even we could try to come up with specific names: “This bid’s going to Winston Churchill”. “The client here's James Bond”. “This lot are Voldemort”.

​Politicians, actors, comedians, literary figures, movie characters, musicians, sportspeople – the imagination could run riot. I’m curious to see how it’ll work out. If you try it yourself, let me know. And if you can put a face to the name for any of your recent proposals, do tell!

Posted by Jon

It was great to see the list of winners of APMP's "40 under 40" awards this week - recognising some of the most talented younger people in our profession (and making me feel old in the process!). Particularly, I was delighted that our very own Kim Panesar - graphic design manager for Strategic Proposals in the UK - made the list. Much deserved!
 
So too did other friends, including several people I've had the pleasure of training and supporting over the years. And it made me stop and think about the two most powerful coaching interventions I had in the early days of my own career.
 
The first came from a negotiation guru, back in my procurement days at Barclays Bank. All of the buyers were tasked with preparing a half hour presentation about an upcoming negotiation with a vendor. Mine was packed with the latest and best industry research. I looked at the detail of the current contract. I analysed spend and usage patterns. I reviewed the supplier's performance. I compared their current pricing to external benchmarking data and to deals with other vendors selling into the bank. There were tables, graphs, numbers galore.
 
I presented. I sat down, happily. And was asked: "What football team does their account manager support?"
 
To which I confessed: "I have no idea. And, what's more, I have no idea why you asked."
 
That led to a wonderful discussion about the importance of emotion as well as logic in influencing - and the role of relationships and trust in the buying and selling process. They're messages that have stayed with me throughout my time in bids and proposals.
 
A week later, the expert was back on site, coaching some of my colleagues. I slipped an envelope underneath the door of the room he was using. Inside: a plain piece of paper, on which was written simply: 'Wycombe Wanderers'!
 
The other game-changer came a couple of years later. I'd just moved from procurement to proposals, appointed to the management team of one of my erstwhile suppliers to "stop us losing large bids". I arrived on day one, confident and raring to go.
 
My new boss - the business unit director - greeted me, and apologetically observed: "I'm afraid we don't have a desk for you yet. I suggest you go and camp out in the hot desk area on the sales floor for a couple of weeks.'
 
Deflated, I headed upstairs to sulk. And proceeded to learn more in the next fortnight of what makes salespeople tick than I could ever have imagined.
 
It was only a few years later that I realised what he'd done. "Of course we had a desk," he laughed. "But it was the cheapest and best sales training I could think of for someone who'd just swapped sides from procurement."
 
Two questions, then:
- who do you turn to for ideas and inspiration, and to use as a sounding board?
- have you ever spent a week sitting in your procurement department - never mind sales - observing what buyers are really like?

We’ve long advocated that proposals should be “a joy to read”. That certainly holds true in terms of the eloquence of the writing, and the proposal’s overall storytelling.​

I thought you might enjoy two recent examples encountered by our UK team, as shared on our internal social networking site (Yammer)…

First up, an ITT question: “Please indicate your process for responding to proposals or quotations.”
​
The answer, submitted to the proposal team by their company lawyer: “We do not provide quotations or proposals”.