Sometimes Client Service Means Cleaning Up Your Mess

It was a bad mistake. Fortunately, I'm still smiling.

Years ago as a client development director I made a mistake that locked my law firm into a two-year pricing agreement at lower rates for an entire class of timekeepers than they were already getting from the client.

Yeah, you read that right.

When I found the mistake and emailed my client contact to beg a correction, she declined. (I had no excuse, but still, that was mean!)

To make matters worse, the client relationship partner was the firm chair, Mike. Let me tell you how I felt that day . . . 🤮

Prioritize Relationships

Here's what I learned: in a sickening predicament when all options are bad, prioritize relationships.

I couldn't fix the pricing fuck-up. But I could protect and maintain my relationship with Mike—on one condition:

He had to hear it from me, now, not learn it weeks or months later from our accounting team or from an attorney reacting to client-corrected bills.

Sometimes client service means recovering trust.

I'm reminded of something Bruce Hennes taught in a crisis communications training:

💡 "Tell the truth. Tell it all. Tell it first. Tell it fast." (Bruce, apologies if I misquote. It's been a minute!)

So I screwed up my courage, reminded myself this was no train derailment or massive financial fraud, and called Mike.

To my chagrin, he answered on the first ring.

"I made a bad mistake." I took a deep breath, then I told him everything directly, no dancing around it. Bruce's guidance helped.

Mike asked several questions. I told him what I knew. Then he made a suggestion that sounded like it could work. There was no going back to the client, but we had a workaround that could salvage the situation financially on our end.

Unexpected Benefit

Days later, I saw Mike in person and thanked him for his cool reaction to my mistake.

"Matt," he said, "I'm too busy cleaning up my own mistakes to rake anyone over the coals for theirs. What matters is how we move forward." Classy, to be sure.

Moreover, in that moment I unexpectedly earned the chance to grow closer to my client.

Back when I found the error, I could have kicked the can down the road, hidden the bad news, at least for a while.

Yet by owning it and being the one to share it, I took the only steps I could to reassert control, prioritize the relationship, and demonstrate integrity.

I didn't get fired. I didn't burn a relationship. I didn't violate trust, even though I'd arguably committed malpractice.

Years later, the memory of this experience is seared into my DNA.

Thanks to prioritizing my relationship and one good crisis comms training, it's a positive memory.