My first agency clients were people I already knew. Not close friends, but acquaintances, former colleagues, and people I’d worked alongside on other things.
The relationships weren’t built on charm or persuasion, but on three things I’d been doing for years without realizing it:
Honesty when a situation called for it.
Clear direction when someone needed to make a decision.
Opinions offered only when asked, never volunteered.
That was the basic business development strategy. Show up as the same person I’d been with them before, answer the question they actually asked, say what was true, get out of the way when the answer wasn’t mine to give.
Then I started meeting people who didn’t know me yet. Prospects, cold conversations, pitches, and places where I had to introduce myself and convince someone I was worth hiring. I did what almost every creative agency owner does when they start selling to strangers.
I spun.
Not aggressively, and not dishonestly, exactly. Just the bit of polishing every founder learns to do, softening the weaknesses, emphasizing the strengths, and framing a hard question as an opportunity to flex my capability. Sounding confident about things I wasn’t fully confident about. Saying “yes, we can absolutely do that” when the honest answer was “ahhh, we can figure it out.”
It took me a long time to notice that the deals I closed this way were the ones that hurt the most later. The clients I’d convinced through polished performance resented me six months in, when the performance didn’t survive contact with delivery. Fortunately, the clients I’d been straight with stayed. The three principles from my first clients were what worked - I’d just abandoned them the moment I started meeting people who hadn’t already agreed to trust me.
Spinning in a sales conversation is writing checks your ass can’t cash. The prospect signs, the money moves, and then the delivery team has to produce whatever the founder promised. If the promise was honest, delivery is straightforward. If the promise was spun, delivery becomes a slow apology stretched over six months.
I had a call with a mentee recently who was upset about a prospect who’d ghosted him. The setup was pretty standard. He’d been having a DM conversation with a founder in his target industry for a few days. They had an interesting product, there was humor in the exchanges, and some good chemistry. Then he asked for a capabilities call. The founder stopped responding. My mentee couldn’t figure out what he’d done wrong.
Nothing, exactly. And everything, structurally.
I knew immediately what had happened because I’d done the same thing myself more than once. The relationship had been fluid and conversational, but then he switched to a transactional mode, and the prospect on the other end felt the pivot arrive before it landed. Boxing legend (the GOAT IMO) Muhammad Ali called this the rope-a-dope. You lull the opponent into a rhythm, then throw the punch they weren’t expecting. Prospects can feel the setup coming, and that’s the moment they disappear.
The mentee’s instinct was to fix his message. My advice was that the message wasn’t the problem; it was that the message existed at all. If he’d been upfront about his intentions from the first exchange, the founder would have known what he was walking into. Instead, the mentee had spent days building rapport under an ambiguous flag and then tried to turn the relationship into a commercial arrangement. That’s exactly the transaction most agency founders think they’re being clever by hiding, and it’s the same transaction every prospect can smell coming from three messages away.
The first thing creative agency owners get wrong is the answer itself. A prospect asks a specific question. The owner answers a slightly different question that makes them sound better. The prospect notices. They don’t say anything, but they notice.
The question was, “Do you have experience in our industry?” The polished answer is, “We work with clients across many industries, and our methodology adapts to any sector.” The honest answer is, “No, we haven’t worked in your industry before. Here’s what I think would be different, and here’s what I think would translate.”
The prospect can tell which answer they got. The spun version costs the owner nothing to give and gains them nothing back, and the honest version costs the owner some pride and earns them the one thing that actually moves the deal - the sense that the person across the table is being straight with them.
Most agency owners think they’re being careful when they spin. What they’re actually doing is training the prospect to discount everything else they say. A simple factual question that got a spun answer means every other answer must be spun too. The prospect stops listening to the words and starts trying to read what’s underneath them - that’s the moment the conversation slows down, and the deal stops moving forward.
In my executive years, I could smell an agency’s weaknesses within a minute of them walking in. Not because I was looking for reasons to reject them, but because weaknesses are visible whether anyone owns up to them or not. Even now, coaching founders, I can smell a prospective client’s weaknesses within the first few minutes of a discovery call. It’s not a special talent. It’s just what happens when you’ve sat across the table long enough. Buyers already know your weaknesses before you sit down. The only question is whether you know they know.
If your agency isn’t good at paid media, say so. If you don’t have deep experience in a specific vertical, say so. If your team is small and you can’t handle more than three major projects at once, say so. The prospect isn’t looking for perfection. They’re looking for someone honest enough to tell them what the working relationship will actually be like, and honest enough to have already noticed what they noticed.
A recognized weakness makes the strengths believable. An unacknowledged weakness makes everything you say sound like sales copy, because the buyer is sitting there watching you avoid the thing they already clocked on your website before the call started.
The counterintuitive part is that owning a weakness usually accelerates the deal rather than killing it. The prospect was going to find it eventually. If they find it themselves after the contract is signed, they resent it. If they hear it from you before the contract is signed, they trust you more. Same weakness, different timing, completely different outcome.
The third move is the one that feels most counterintuitive and creates the deepest trust.
I’ve sent prospects to other agencies more times than I can count. Sometimes because the other agency had deeper expertise in a specific area. Sometimes because they had better talent for a particular kind of production. Sometimes because the relationship fit was clearly stronger with a founder who reminded the prospect of themselves. I’ve done this recently with mentees who came to me for coaching, and I could tell another coach’s approach would serve them better than mine.
The result is almost always the same: some of those prospects come back later for something the referred agency couldn’t do, and some refer other prospects who are a better fit. Some even stay in touch and become part of the loose network of people who think of me first when the right opportunity comes up. The revenue from the deals I sent away has been paid back multiple times over by the deals that came in through the trust that behavior built.
There’s a moment from my own early consulting years that made me commit to this permanently. I’d cold-messaged a woman who ran an agency I thought would be a perfect fit for what I was doing. She wrote back with one sentence. “Travis, are you trying to sell me something?” I wrote back, “Of course. I’m in business. I fully intend on trying to sell you something because I think you’re the perfect target for what I do.” She responded with a hundred laughing emojis. We got on a call, and although she didn’t become a client, she did become a friend. She’s referred people to me many times.
The commercial logic is simple. A prospect who feels like you were trying to force a fit will discount everything you say next time. A prospect who feels like you told them the truth even when it cost you the deal will trust everything you say next time. The first prospect writes a check once, if they write one at all. The second one becomes a source of business, maybe even for years.
The fourth move is the one that makes the other three possible. Most agency owners can list their services fluently. Fewer can list their gaps with the same fluency. The ones who can are the ones who close.
Confidence in a sales conversation doesn’t come from believing you’re the best at everything. It comes from knowing exactly what you’re best at, what you’re competent at, and what you shouldn’t be doing at all. When a prospect asks a question, and you’re clear on which category the answer falls into, you can respond honestly without hesitation. When you’re not clear, you spin. The spinning is a symptom of not knowing your own business well enough to answer without inflating.
The founders I’ve coached who close most consistently are the ones who spent time honestly cataloging what their agency does poorly. Not to fix it or to hide it, just to know it clearly enough to talk about it without defensiveness. Once they knew their gaps, they stopped guarding against them in conversation, which made them sound like normal humans instead of walking pitch decks. Prospects felt the difference immediately.
A mentor of mine taught me four letters that changed how I sell. She had me write them on a piece of paper and tape it to the wall in front of my desk.
NATO. Not Attached To the Outcome. Curious. Useful.
That was the whole mindset. Not attached to the outcome, because the moment you attach yourself to closing this specific deal, the prospect can feel the pressure and starts pulling back. Curious, because if you’re actually interested in the person on the other end and what they’re building, the conversation goes somewhere real instead of somewhere scripted. Useful, because your value in the exchange has to be visible before the exchange becomes commercial. Share the article. Make the introduction. Offer the piece of feedback they need. Be worth talking to before you’re worth paying.
I later taught this same framework to internal sales teams when I coached advertising salespeople in television. It worked the same way there as it worked for me. The reason NATO works isn’t that it’s a clever tactic. It works because it inverts what most sales training does. Most sales training teaches you to move the prospect through a funnel toward a decision. NATO teaches you to be someone the prospect actually wants to keep talking to, whether or not a decision ever gets made. The commercial outcome takes care of itself because it’s not the point of the conversation. The relationship is the point. The commercial outcome is a byproduct of the relationship being good.
Every deal I’ve won that mattered came out of this posture. Every deal I lost or bungled came out of the opposite one, where I’d attached myself to closing something and started performing instead of listening. The prospects always knew. (Just how cringe is that?)
The last thing to understand about this is that the owner’s behavior in sales conversations sets the ceiling for the whole team.
If the founder spins, the team learns to spin. If the founder deflects hard questions, the team learns to deflect. If the founder overpromises to close the deal, the team learns that overpromising is what closing looks like. Then delivery inherits the mess. The account manager can’t explain to the client why the deliverable doesn’t match what the founder described. The senior lead has to walk back the timeline the founder committed to in the meeting. The junior person who took the client’s frustrated call has no framework for what an honest agency relationship should feel like because they’ve never watched one being built.
The founder who tells the truth in the sales process is teaching the team how to tell the truth for the rest of the engagement. The founder who spins is teaching the team that the truth is optional until the client catches you.
Stop trying to fabricate an angle. Answer the question that was asked. Know your gaps before the buyer notices you’re avoiding them. Point to the better option when it exists. Know what your agency isn’t good at with the same precision you know what it sells.
The moment you sound honest, the prospect stops discounting what you say, the deal starts moving, and the team learns how to close by watching you do it.

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