Evert Akkerman |
It’s awkward to have to ask to be paid. Aside from the time and energy you spend on following up with the folks in your accounts receivable (AR) folder, there’s the stress of worrying about it, and getting upset with people who don’t deal in good faith. However, there’s a psychological element that can work to your advantage: while you can’t control your clients’ behaviour, to some extent you can control how this affects you.
In one of my first classes in law school, a civil law professor shared an anecdote about a British colleague who had loaned a friend 20,000 pounds. At some point, it became clear that the friend wasn’t going to pay back the loan. When the two professors met at a conference a few weeks later, the Brit relayed the story over pints at a pub.
Prof 1: “Wow, and this was a friend of yours? I would have been irate!”
Prof 2, after two beats: “Well, it annoys me.”
And with these four words, he had reframed the situation in his mind. Yes, he was out 20k but decided to consider it a mere nuisance, which allowed him to move on.
I’ve been self-employed since 2012 and, over the 10 years since, I only had to write off about $500. It annoys me, but it represents a negligible percentage of my total billables.
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A few years ago, a client owed me some money and stopped communicating. After sending a few reminders, I decided it wasn’t worth the hassle and sent the following message: “Hi X, remember the money you owe me? I had a great idea: with Christmas coming up, I thought of the food drive you advertised on your website. Instead of paying me, I suggest you donate the money to this great cause. Best wishes, etc.”
Last fall, it became clear that a client who had always paid my bills with limited hassle owed me $4,000. The corresponding work had consisted of helping their overworked HR department by pre-screening several hundred applications for multiple job openings, while their HR people handled the next steps in the process. I invoiced them for the work I did and moved on to other projects. However, no payment was forthcoming.
Weeks turned into months. You know how commentators opine that Canada has lost its zest for creativity and innovation? Not this company I tell you, as my weekly correspondence with their accounting department yielded a treasure trove of excuses: their AP clerk had gotten lost on vacation and missed a flight, their e-transfer system was on the blink, their cheque-printing machine had run out of ink, their meeting about the list of payables had been postponed cuz it was Halloween, someone had backed over their kids’ pet rabbit and couldn’t come in, and the department head had accidentally been locked into an LCBO after hours. Sometime in November, the CEO tried to get creative as well. I received a lengthy email, which I will paraphrase to protect the guilty.
It went something like this: “Hey Ev, I had my staff review the invoices you sent. Here are some of the experiences we’ve had: we hired an executive assistant, who was let go within a day because they didn’t know Outlook. Another assistant backed into the CFO’s car on their second day. The third was constantly late, so we let them go. The week after, our clothing donation bin was raided, and we think one of them did it. The VP Sales we hired called us a week before the start date and said they were moving overseas to start an organic winery…” — and then came the dodge that took the cake — “and we hired the IT manager you screened, and he’s great, but during his probation he had a major heart attack, and he will be leaving us shortly. Therefore, I propose we pay you half of the amount owing, so that you share the responsibility for these failed hires.”
I let this percolate for a few days, and then composed the following reply: “Hi X, if you had called me in July and said, ‘Hey Ev, we’ve had some mishaps here and things are a bit tight, would you be willing to throw in a freebie?’, I would have considered it, in light of our good relationship. However, making me wait four months with repeated promises, excuses, and resolutions, with intermittent radio silence, and then proposing a unilateral and retroactive discount is no way to do business. You checked your records, which inspired me to check mine. I looked through my invoices and tallied 18 hours under the header ‘no charge.’ Meaning, I provided 18 hours’ worth of free services to your company, which you can verify with your accounting department. Imagine me turning around now and saying, ‘You know what, I’d like to get paid for these hours after all.’ No way I would do that.”
And I continued: “To the points you mentioned: typically, I quarterback an entire recruitment process, with generally solid results. This spring, my involvement was limited to high-volume resumé screening, upon which your HR department handled the actual interviews, decisions, and offers, while communication with me dropped to zero. And, on a final note, what has been a truly unique experience for me is seeing a client use an employee’s heart attack as an opportunity to haggle about my invoices. Considering the values espoused in your mission statement and your company’s branding efforts, I’m quite surprised you decided to leverage such an unfortunate personal event in this manner.”
After I sent off this masterpiece of sarcastic discontent, my invoices were paid in full, within two days.
And it isn’t all bad — sometimes people don’t realize that an invoice is still outstanding. Several years ago, I did a small editing job for a client. My bill was, I think, around $300. About a month after sending my invoice, I reminded the client by email. The reply: “Yes, we’re working on it.” After a few more reminders, the client ghosted me. With my law professor in mind, I wrote off the amount and moved on.
Two years later, the client’s former business partner, Derek, returned to Canada from a project in South America. Apparently, he had kept my email address on file, as he messaged out of the blue and asked if I’d be available for some HR work. I was and, as a casual p.s., I wrote something like, “By the way, whatever happened to your old friend Herb? He owed me some money and then disappeared overseas.”
Guess what? Derek asked me to send the bill to him, and he paid the same day.
Evert Akkerman is an HR professional based out of Newmarket, Ont., founder of XNL HR, and partner at executive search firm Crossings People. He can be reached at info@xnlhr.com and evert.akkerman@crossings-people.com.
The opinions expressed are those of the author(s) and do not necessarily reflect the views of the author’s firm, its clients, Law 360Canada, LexisNexis Canada, or any of its or their respective affiliates. This article is for general information purposes and is not intended to be and should not be taken as legal advice.
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