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Is Honor a Bygone Value?: We Could All Learn a Thing or Two from Schmitty
By Mark W. Sheffert
September 2004

Before there were supermarket chains, there was a neighborhood grocery store two houses down from my grandparents’ home in the Nebraska town where I grew up. I remember going there with my grandmother, walking on squeaky floors down dark, narrow aisles, and looking up at the high shelves, which usually held only a few of each item.

Although the store seemed big to me then, I realize now that the whole thing was probably no bigger than my garage today. Only two people worked there: the butcher, who had been there for more than 25 years, and the second-generation owner, Mr. Schmidt, or Schmitty, as my grandfather called him. Mr. Schmidt and his retired father lived in an apartment attached to the back of the store. While the butcher handled the meat counter, Mr. Schmidt did everything else, including stocking shelves, cleaning floors, and helping customers. He was not just a merchant, but he was a friend and someone the neighborhood depended on.

After I moved away and was attending the University of Minnesota, I recall going home for a holiday and having a conversation about Schmitty with my grandfather. A new IGA supermarket had opened a few miles away in town, and it was having a negative impact on Schmitty's business. Grandpa told me that he had loaned $2,000 to Schmitty. (By the way, that's about $15,000 in today's dollars.)

Being a know-it-all college student, I asked how Grandpa was managing his financial risk: "Well, you at least got the terms spelled out in writing, didn't you?"

Grandpa replied, "Nope, we shook on it," and shrugged his shoulders. "I trust him – his word is his bond," he said, as he walked away. That was all that mattered to him, and was all that he needed to say about it.

Now let's roll the clock forward to today. Is our word our bond in business? Do we honor our commitments to customers, vendors, and employees? Do we always try to do the very best for each, because that's what we would expect if we were them? Do we go the extra mile because it's just the right thing to do? Consider my recent experiences. I think many of you will be able to relate to them.

When I contracted an electrician to install a ceiling fan in a bathroom at home, we didn't shake on anything before he did the job, but I signed his two-page contract. When I returned home that evening, I was shocked to find that he had cut across the entire bathroom ceiling before realizing that he couldn't vent the fan the way he had planned to (or the way it had been bid). Because his contract had a "workman-like manner" clause in it, he was not responsible for the damage, and refused to pay for another contractor to repair the ceiling.

Let me share another example. I recently dropped my four-year-old car off at the dealership, because the engine light was blinking on and off, and the rear of the car shook whenever I reached 50 miles per hour. Although this was my third visit to the dealership for the same problems, I calmly explained that I would like to have the car fixed right this time. The fit hit the shan when the service technician told me it would cost more than $1,200, because the warranty had expired. I  protested that while the car was under warranty – the previous times I came in – the dealership had failed to fix it. The technician said he couldn't do anything about that.

The service staff kept my car for five days instead of the two they had estimated. In addition to the other items, they charged me for a new antenna, which they broke (then inferred that I was lying about it working when I brought the car in) and for replacing two rear tires that only had 5,000 miles on them (they had "excessive wear as a result of being out of balance," though the dealership had balanced them on the two previous visits). To top it off, because I didn't take a loaner car, the dealership agreed to deliver my car to my office three blocks away when they were done and – you guessed it – they delivered the wrong damn car!

(Now, lest you think I'm nuts to tolerate this behavior, there is only one local dealership that works on this type of car, so customers are hostage to it. This is the fifth such car I have owned over the years – but it will be my last. The dealership may have won a battle with me, but it lost the war.)

A Missing Code of Honor

Am I wrong to get upset over these situations? Should I just expect sub-par work, lousy service, and dishonorable behavior? Why does it seem that people don't care anymore about their reputations, about whether they are doing a good job?

Maybe it's because businesses as a whole lack trustworthiness and honor. Because of our litigious society, perhaps we believe it's necessary to insulate ourselves with clauses like "limited warranty," "workman-like manner," and "best efforts." But those phrases shouldn't replace a personal or corporate code of honor.

I admit that my company is no exception to the rule; we have file cabinets full of contracts. But whether a business relationship is sealed with a handshake or a contract, the foundation should be each person's and each company's honor – our desire to do our best, to say what we mean and mean what we say, to do the right thing even if it costs us to do so, even when nobody else will know whether we did right or wrong. My grandpa and the mentor I had early in my career hammered into my head that "your word is your bond." I've never forgotten that principle, and I hope I never will.

What happened to the good old days, when we had relationships like my grandfather and Schmitty's? It's abundantly clear that we don't do business the way we used to. Fewer and fewer people, from business leaders to front-line employees, take on personal responsibility to do a good job.

I think one of the harsh realities for corporate America today is that in rapidly emerging global markets, if workers and companies don't want to or can't perform good quality work, there are competitors in China, India, and other parts of the world who will be honored to do the work at a fraction of the price.

My Challenge

This is my challenge to all of us in business, whether we lead a company or interact with customers: We have an unparalleled opportunity to restore pride and honor to business by returning to the core values of honesty, integrity, respect, and the Golden Rule. It would do a lot to further the good of both our businesses and our country.

We should treat customers as though we are honored to have their business rather than as pains in our backsides. We should insist that our organizations from top to bottom honor commitments to customers. Leaders should make their employees understand that the number-one job is to end up with a satisfied customer.

That's how Schmitty saw things. His store didn't survive, but when my grandpa died a few years later, I had the chance to see Schmitty again. He attended the funeral, and as everybody was leaving, he handed me an envelope. I thought it was a sympathy card and put it in a box with the others.

That night, I opened his card to find a check for just over $300, with this note: "I wanted to settle up with your grandpa, who loaned me some money five years ago. I got most of it paid back, and this is the last of it, plus some interest. Your grandpa was an honorable and decent man, and he helped me out in a time when I needed help. I will miss him. Schmitty."


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