The Portable You™

Do you know the true value of your work – but fall down hard when asked to put a price on it?  Elizabeth Creith unmasks the “big, bad three” that trip us up - timely advice for anyone facing a change in work circumstances.

Unmasking the Big, Bad Three
Setting a price for your work can be the hardest part of a startup. In the art business I encountered three bad arguments that get in the way of any entrepreneur setting a price. Whether you sell pottery or technical writing or human resources tools, I believe they’re worth knowing, so you can avoid them.

Some arguments are applied by the buyer, but often, I’m sad to say, these arguments have been internalized by the seller. When this happens, business failure is a certainty. Nevertheless, many of the entrepreneurs I knew in the art world continued to offer their work at a loss – sometimes a substantial loss – funding it with money from other work and complaining bitterly about how art doesn’t pay.

The three big, bad arguments you absolutely must NOT consider when setting your prices are:

1) “I can’t charge for my time.”
2) “People will get it cheaper somewhere else.”
3) “It’s okay to be underpaid, because I enjoy the work.”

Let me answer these arguments individually.

Time=Time + Skill
1. You can too charge for your time. That is precisely what most people in this country are paid for. That’s what minimum wage is, and what a lawyer’s hourly fee covers. But there’s more involved than just your time – there is also your skill. You’re being paid not only for the hour it took to make the pot or the painting, or the spreadsheet or the blog post, but also because you can do something that someone else cannot do.

Don’t Race to the Bottom
2. Will people get it cheaper somewhere else? Only if the “it” you’re offering is actually available somewhere for less. Many people didn’t buy my ceramic buttons because they didn’t like the price tag; but many did buy them because they liked them and couldn’t get them anywhere else.

Qualities such as expertise in a particular field, timely delivery, ease of communication, flexibility, versatility, connection, individual style and even proximity are all subsidiary to the actual work offered. They also add value. Recognize the features that make your work distinctive and learn to present them clearly.

The other half of the “somewhere cheaper” is knowing precisely what your market is, and who you’re competing with. I don’t care if a potential client can get an article on dog food written for $8 by someone on a bidding site. That’s not my market. I don’t race to the bottom.

Kick Over the Tripod of Doubt
3. The “I enjoy it, so I don’t need to get paid well for it” argument makes me want to beat my head on the wall. It’s purely emotional and therefore hard to counter. It plays on guilt that says you don’t deserve decent money for your work because you’re being paid in enjoyment. Newsflash! “Loving your work” does not translate automatically to “working for love”. (The corollary – that cleaning the catbox, say, should pay huge money – is never mentioned. In more relevant terms, sweatshops would be top-paying jobs if this principle were evenly applied.)

As individual entrepreneurs, our work and our personhood can become so deeply entangled that we take economic arguments personally. When someone objects to a price, we sometimes feel doubt about whether our price is appropriate. These three arguments form the tripod of doubt. Kick over the tripod, and you’re free to set a price based on your particular skills and the resources you need to live. The people who want to buy will come. They did for me.
Elizabeth 

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