Tailor or Seller?

Which brings me to a musical question: What do the following lyrics of a '60s rock classic have in common with 1) the month of May; 2) the day my metal is removed, and 3) an incredible opportunity clearly being overlooked by the vast majority of insurance agents? 

White bird,
in a golden cage,
on a winter's day,
in the rain.

White bird,
in a golden cage,
alone. 

The leaves blow,
Across the long black road.
To the darkened skies,
in its rage 

But the white bird just sits in her cage,
unknown.

White bird must fly
Or she will die 

Hint: The answer to Nos. 1 and 2 lies outside the lyrics while No. 3 is within the lyrics.

Got it? Given up? Finished searching the Internet on your iPads and iPhones? Then let's get to it.

Related: Read "Choose Wisely"

First, let's connect those lyrics to No. 3: the often missed agent opportunity. Permit me to begin that connection with a simple question: Are you a seller or a tailor?

Consider insurance as clothing. Like many people, I am not what one would call a "standard" size. Every measurable portion of my anatomy falls outside the mean body parameters clothing makers clearly rely upon in creating the sizes one finds on the typical store rack. Like others of my ilk, I learned to just buy what comes closest and make do with the various places where the clothing is not quite, shall we say, properly fitted to my dimensions.

And at the typical clothing store, I expect little help. Occasionally, a salesperson will walk from behind the counter and actually initiate contact. Generally the conversation runs thusly:          

Salesman: "Finding what you need?"

Chris: "Just checking the sizes."

Salesman: "The one you are holding looks great to me. We also have some nice shirts on sale today. I'll be over by the register when you have everything you need."

Then he walks away, likely priding himself on his "social interaction" and "proactive networking." Just like far too many websites, tweets, blogs and other digital wonders, these "interactions" do far more for the provider's ego and self-satisfaction than provide any practical help to the receiver.

I may have acquired a bit more information that may or may not be useful (nice shirts on sale), but I'm still left to my own level of knowledge or pure dumb luck to make either ignorant, passable or excellent choices.

And unfortunately, I may not learn which it is until too late. For clothing, that may be when I either get a "looking good" or find I've publicly humiliated myself.

Similar "found I was wrong too late" examples occur in insurance every day. I hated reading about those unfortunate New York or New Jersey residents who had paid off their houses, dropped flood coverage thinking it was just a requirement of the mortgage, then had Sandy show up.

Yet in my clothing world there came a day when I was shown there was a better way. I stood in a store, checking out the business suits and speculating on what might be the closest approximation I could purchase to the correct size and style without rendering moot the proper impression my boss desired for the upcoming important client presentation.

I did my usual routine: trying on various coats, finding one size a bit snug in the shoulders, another one quite adequate as long as I never had to button it. I had just about decided to go with the "buy it large, at least it will be comfortable" technique when a salesperson approached.

"Need some help with the fit?" he asked. After a bit of discussion of ­shoulders versus buttoning versus freedom of movement, he pulled a coat from the rack, told me to put it on, and then pulled out a tape measure. Within a few minutes, he had analyzed the sleeve length, my neck, how it looked as I walked or raised my arms, how snug or loose it was when buttoned. In some spots the clothing was marked with chalk, in others with a few pins. He then repeated the process with the pants.

Related: Read "'The Princess Bride' Lessons"

"When do you need these?" was his last question. "Next Monday." "Fine, we can do that. Let me put the coat and pants with my markings and pins here on the counter while we pick out anything else you need to go with these."

Ten days later, I stood in that presentation looking good, my man! For the first time I learned what a difference it made dealing with a tailor instead of just a seller.

As in clothing, there may be some individuals for which the proper insurance coverage answers are relatively standard. They can find the perfect size "buying off the rack." But just like in clothing, there are a great many more subject to myriad variables and coverage considerations. Yet despite their "perfect fit" requiring either minor tweaks or a great deal of "tailoring," they often are stuffed into pre-formatted coverage forms and packages, for no other reason than that is what the agent sells everyone else.

And just as we "odd-size" clothing folks think we have to settle for what we can find on the rack, those clients may not realize the true value of an agent who knows how to properly tailor coverages, via various forms and even multiple carriers, until they meet one and learn how wondrous a thing is a customized fit. These clients need an agent with a tape measure, chalk and pins.

Yet here we find the irony when we connect E&O claims, coverage statistics and our song lyrics above. Industry statistics consistently show coverage is undersold, insureds are under-protected and limits are too low. How is this possible when agent surveys show our current sales force to be among the most professional and well-trained in history? The answer is in those lyrics. Too many agents have become that "white bird in a golden cage."

Too many agents have been lulled to sleep, just like those "sales" people who stand behind the checkout counters. Our "golden cage" is that for years, plenty of customers have been walking up to those counters, making purchases and paying. Life is good. Why go out looking for the fish when they swim into your net? You see the coverage problem? We are so busy selling those fish what they ask for or what we consider "standard packages" that we neglect to ask, "Do you need some help with the fit?" Put in insurance parlance, "This may be what you want, but is it what you need?"

I hear agents rant and rave about the ignorance of consumers thinking they can buy insurance over the Internet or phone without the advice and counsel of an agent. But how are they to know they are ignorant until someone shows them what they are missing?

Which brings us to the most important truth imparted by the song: "White bird must fly or she will die."

Building a solid value proposition out of all the coverage details and technicalities we typically consider the heart of this business will never happen if the agent never steps out from behind that counter.

Proactively prove your value and skill to note when the current package may be perfect, and when modifications are required. Also know how to implement those alterations to turn an "adequate" coverage program into one truly tailored to the unique needs of that client.

Note this isn't just sales technique. Coverage knowledge is still key.

A true tailor must know the characteristics of his materials, the capabilities and limitations of each, and what combinations will result in the superior solution. So must the true practitioner of the insurance arts. If you know your products and services intimately, you will recognize that each has inherent strengths and limitations. Then you, having honed your skills as a tailor, no longer need fear learning that certain client needs either fall outside the common coverage or rating provisions. If a certain carrier or coverage fits perfectly, go for it. But when the unique needs arise, the bold and few will take out that chalk and tape measure.

If not, the appreciation for what a trained insurance professional brings to the table may disappear, just like most have forgotten the purpose of a tailor. Even today, many insist insurance is simply a commodity, easily bought "off the rack" by consumers seeking the lowest price and a "close enough" fit. It's time to get out of that golden cage and prove them wrong. Otherwise we risk ultimately reaching a day when those fish quit swimming up to our counter. Folks will still be buying a lot of insurance, "But the white bird just sits in her cage, unknown."

Fly, white bird! And as for the significance of those lyrics to the month of May and my mouth metal finally being removed? Ah, grasshopper, remember the name of the band.

Truly, it's a beautiful day!