The results were so impressive that Eldrenkamp used the experience as the basis for a new marketing program. He no longer advertises in newspapers or the yellow pages. Instead, he spends his marketing dollars where he knows now they'll do the most good: on past clients. When Byggmeister completes a job, Eldrenkamp promises the client that if anything goes wrong, he'll take care of it. If a year goes by and Eldrenkamp hasn't heard anything, he checks in anyway. If there's a problem -- say, the floor needs buffing or a cabinet door needs adjusting -- he takes care of it, no charge. The cost is minimal -- about $6,000 a year, or less than Eldrenkamp used to spend on advertising. The payoff, in repeat business and rave referrals, is huge.
The beauty of Byggmeister's new marketing strategy, of course, is that it works. But more than that, it works for Eldrenkamp, giving him an excuse to be thoughtful and caring, a nice guy, and yet not go broke in the process. "I've been able to direct a tendency I had -- one that, without a business justification, could be the death of me -- into something that really works for us. Staying in touch with clients, becoming friends, doing things for them, making them happy -- it's a lot of fun. That's how I've grown comfortable with the role of myself as a remodeling salesperson."
* * *
Appreciating the contributions of others
Eldrenkamp was a manager now, caring for his business, nurturing it, attending to its health and well-being. He had picked up a foreign language -- the language of numbers -- and understanding more, he appreciated more. He had found the one task within Byggmeister so vital to the company's survival it could not be delegated, and he had learned to perform it with grace, enthusiasm, and skill. He knew how his business made money, understood who his customers were, and had learned the best way to reach them. He had, along the way, achieved a pretty good definition of bliss -- doing work he enjoyed with people he enjoyed, in command of sufficient resources to go wherever life seemed to be leading him. In short, he had come to own his business.
Ironically, while Eldrenkamp was moving closer to an ideal of true ownership, he found himself moving away from the concept of control. He was learning that ownership and control may not be synonymous after all, that if you try to control everything, you lower the ceiling on what you can accomplish.
In the early days, Eldrenkamp had played, in his words, the role of "benign father." Byggmeister had been teetering on the brink of insolvency, and Eldrenkamp had done all he could to keep it a secret from his employees -- the very people who could have helped him the most. For example, Eldrenkamp might have improved his estimating skill had he been willing to review unprofitable jobs with his employees. But he was afraid that they would see how bad things really were. "I was protecting them," he says. "I didn't want them to have to get their hands dirty in the messy business stuff, to feel the disappointment I was feeling. They were supposed to do the work and be happy. I was trying to buffer them from reality."
There's a fine line between protection and control, Eldrenkamp can admit now. By erecting walls between his employees and the truth, he was stifling their growth, and Byggmeister's, too. He had to let go so they could grow, affording Byggmeister the full benefit of their skills. "His personal management behavior wasn't aligned with his philosophy," says Jeanette Millard, a management consultant who has worked with the company. "He believed in empowerment, but when you're a really responsible manager, it's hard to let go."
Eldrenkamp has undergone what he calls "a subtle change" in his understanding of the responsibilities of an entrepreneur for his employees. He used to think he was "providing for them"; that he was responsible for "giving their lives meaning." Now he believes that such an attitude reflects not selfless goodwill so much as a controlling ego.
"When I tried to do these things for my employees, I was imposing my will on them," he says, "and I was never going to reap the benefits of their full potential. But if I set up a business where employees feel they can create their own jobs, and I encourage them to stretch in the directions they've chosen, that's going to pay dividends for me. It not only has a positive impact on the bottom line but also makes my job easier. There's less work for me in the long run."
* * *
Last November Eldrenkamp's Business Networks group returned to Boston for another crack at Byggmeister. It was obvious from the deference shown Eldrenkamp during the sessions ("I'm interested in whatever Paul has to say," said one member) that his standing among his peers had risen. When a member from New Jersey who was struggling with losses outlined a new marketing proposal, Eldrenkamp gave blunt advice, the kind he would have received six years ago: "My perception is that you're feeling uncomfortable about what you're charging. Those marketing numbers are interesting, but they're beside the point."
Eldrenkamp's presentation focused less on his achievements -- sales were up 50% over the comparable period a year before, profits were running at 10%, and slippage was 0% -- than on his plans for leading Byggmeister into the next stage of growth. Some of the phrases he used were vertical integration, shared information, and maximum flexibility. He spoke of involving his lead carpenters more in sales and follow-up warranty calls, and of finding more time to run jobs himself. By shaking up traditional roles, he said, he hoped to overcome "the traditional discontinuity between sales and production that Byggmeister has struggled with for so long." He also said, not incidentally, that he saw those changes as the keys to unlocking "previously unimaginable profits."
