It was 2005. My wife and I had just moved into our first home, and we were eager to paint our bedroom. At that time, yellow was the “trendy” color and sounded like a great color for the room.

So we went to the paint store and selected a pale yellow.

Then we started painting.

Sure, the paint looked a little bright when we first pried off the lid, but that’s to be expected, right? Just needed a little mixing. I gave it a couple swirls with the paint stick, ran the roller through it, and applied the first stroke.

I looked at the line I’d just smeared on the wall. Then at my wife. We both looked back at the wall.

“It’ll probably dry lighter,” I said with confidence I didn’t feel.

Four walls later, we set down the roller and looked around at what can only be described as the scene of Big Bird’s murder. All that was missing were the feathers and yellow caution tape (which would have blended right in).

We’d gotten exactly what we asked for.

The problem: It wasn’t what we actually wanted.

The Customer Is (Sometimes) Right

I understand the sentiment: Listen to your customers. Treat them well. Don’t argue with the person paying the bill. But I think somewhere along the way, good customer service got confused with simply doing whatever the customer asks. And as a customer, that’s not what I want.

When I hire someone, it’s because they have expertise I don’t have. I don’t want an order-taker; I want a partner.

If I tell my accountant I’ve come up with a brilliant new way to save money on my taxes, I hope he doesn’t just say, “Sounds great, Chris.” I want him to tell me why my brilliant idea might end with a letter from the IRS.

The same goes for any good vendor relationship. I’ve had plenty of situations where I’ve asked a vendor to do something and heard, “We can do that, but can I recommend an alternative?”

I appreciate that. In fact, it builds trust: It tells me they’re not just thinking about how to complete the task I handed them. They’re thinking about what I’m actually trying to accomplish.

It’s a subtle, but important, distinction: The customer may know the outcome they want. But the whole reason they hired an expert is because they might not know the best way to get there.

And if you, as a vendor or service provider, know a better way, it’s your job to say so.

There’s a Right Way to Be Right

Of course, nobody wants to hire someone who responds to every idea with, “Well, actually …”

Pushback only builds trust when it comes from a place of genuine service, not from a place of arrogance or performance. Remember your ultimate goal: to help the customer.

Then the customer gets to decide.

They may take your recommendation; they may not. Either way, you’ve given them something more valuable than unquestioning acquiescence: your expertise.

That’s what I want from the people I work with. And it’s what we give our clients at VitalWay.

A Better Shade of Customer Service

After the Big Bird bloodbath, my wife and I returned to the paint store and told the associate what had happened.

He nodded knowingly — this clearly was not his first time doing damage control in shades of yellow — and suggested mixing the rest of the yellow paint with five gallons of white.

We went home, mixed the paint, and tried again. It was exactly what we’d wanted in the first place.

I couldn’t help but think of the time, money, and frustration that could’ve been saved if the first associate had asked what we were painting and said, “Just so you know, many customers find that this shade dries a bit brighter than expected. Can I recommend something lighter?”

We probably would have listened. But even if we hadn’t, I would have appreciated the advice.

To be clear, I don’t blame the associate. We picked the color. We bought the paint. And we were the ones who saw that first streak of radioactive yellow, shrugged, and proceeded to cover four entire walls with it. That’s on us.

But that’s also what expertise is for.

The customer still gets to make the call. But a good partner makes sure they’re making it with the benefit of everything you know.

Because sometimes the customer is right.

And sometimes they’re about to paint their entire bedroom Big Bird yellow.

Once upon a time, there was a Chinese farmer whose horse ran away.

That evening, all his neighbors visited him to commiserate, saying, “We’re so sorry to hear your horse has run away. This is most unfortunate.”

“Maybe,” said the farmer.

The next day, the horse returned, along with seven wild horses. “Oh, what luck!” the neighbors exclaimed.

“Maybe,” said the farmer.

The following day, the man’s son broke his leg while attempting to tame one of the wild horses. “That’s truly unfortunate,” lamented the neighbors.

“Maybe,” said the farmer.

The next day, an enlistment officer came to the farm looking to draft young men into the army. Upon seeing the boy’s broken leg, he left, allowing the boy to stay with his father.

The neighbors rejoiced.

“How lucky you are that you can keep your son!”

And the farmer simply said, “Maybe.”

Curiosity over certainty

As humans, we’re always telling stories. Assigning narratives: “This is good, that is bad.”

Turns out, businesses are run by humans — and not only do business owners assign narratives to events, but they also tend to adjust course depending on those narratives:

A competitor opens up shop across the street, and instead of leaning into our differentiators, we try to undercut them on price. A new product line takes off, and we hire more staff than we end up needing after demand levels out. Signs point to an economic downturn — and in our hunger for certainty, we hunker down, tabling new ideas and stifling growth while we “ride out the storm.”

In other words, when faced with a challenge, we tend to react according to our interpretation of events.

Numbers seem to tell a grim story about the current economic climate in the U.S. Inflation and energy costs are on the rise. Consumer sentiment has declined. The cost of living is climbing. And based on the many conversations I’ve had with people in the job market, it seems like we’ve been in a downturn for the last two to three years.

When the economy feels uncertain, pulling back is instinctive. Businesses stop hiring. Marketing budgets shrink. Innovation halts. Big decisions are postponed.

But the Parable of the Chinese Farmer (from the ancient Chinese text the Huainanzi, popularized by modern philosopher Alan Watts) invites a different perspective.

What else could be possible?

Hardship is a mirror

When demand is strong and growth comes easily, inefficiencies often go unnoticed: Processes that are clunky but functional remain in place. Customer frustrations are masked by strong sales. Strategic weaknesses are easier to overlook when the bottom line is healthy.

Are you as efficient as you could be? What creates friction for your team? What tasks could be automated? What processes no longer reflect the way your organization actually operates?

It’s also an opportunity to reconnect with your mission. Have customer priorities shifted? Have market needs changed? Are you still solving the problems your audience cares most about?

Put more simply: What does this moment reveal about my business?

The seeds of the next economy are being planted now

You know what doesn’t wait for certainty? More change.

New technology, shifting customer expectations — markets evolve whether you feel ready or not. And businesses that use uncertainty as an opportunity to experiment often gain an advantage when growth returns.

Consider Amazon. During the dot-com crash, many internet companies disappeared entirely. Amazon, meanwhile, continued investing in infrastructure and long-term capabilities. Those investments helped position the company for the growth that followed.

The COVID-19 pandemic offers another powerful example. The businesses that survived did so not because they waited for customers to return to old habits, but because they quickly found new ways to serve them: delivery, curbside pick-up, contactless payments, virtual offerings.

Those adaptations didn’t just help them survive the moment. They permanently changed customer expectations and created new business opportunities.

Too often, business owners fret over how to make more money during a time of challenge.

A more productive question might be: How can we create more value during this time?

There are no crossing guards in business

One of the most dangerous assumptions in business is that there will eventually be a clear signal telling you it’s safe to move forward.

In reality, stability is often only obvious in hindsight. And by the time conditions feel safe, the biggest opportunities may already be gone.

The goal isn’t to try to predict the future or take reckless risks. It’s to build the flexibility to succeed across multiple possible futures.

Research on recession-era marketing is telling:

• In the 1920s, researchers studied the performance of 250 major US companies from the post-war recession into the boom years that followed. They found that companies that increased their marketing spend increased sales by 20% over pre-recession levels. Those who reduced their marketing budgets saw sales drop 7% below pre-recession levels.

• A McGraw-Hill Research study of brands during the recession of the early 1980s found that those who continued to advertise saw a 256% increase in sales compared to competitors who didn’t advertise.

• And for a more modern take, a 2019 analysis by Bain & Company found that companies that continued to invest in growth and marketing during the 2008 recession achieved a 17% compound growth rate.

Don’t pause. Prepare.

Economic uncertainty is never comfortable. But it can be productive.

It can reveal weaknesses that need attention. It can create space to improve systems and processes. It can provide an opportunity to reconnect with customers, revisit priorities, and experiment with new ideas.

Most importantly, it can help organizations build the capabilities they’ll need for whatever comes next.