Germany – Page 2 – understand-culture

Insider Jokes

Americans and Germans who have been collaborating over a longer period of time have all sorts of insider jokes about the respective other culture. These jokes are certainly not meant maliciously. They do, however, signal a deep seated consensus in the one culture about certain characteristics of the other culture. And those characteristics are, in most cases, considered to be negative.

I don‘t mean cliches or prejudices, which usually are not based on any kind of fact. Instead I mean characteristics – national cultural traits – which each side observes and experiences on a daily basis and over a longer stretch of time. Each side – separate of each other – discusses these. They then develop their jokes. Because these characteristics (a part of one‘s character), or logics, are rooted in national culture, they are in almost in most cases misunderstood by the other culture. Their insider jokes are a clear indication of misinterpretation.

Often no more than a specific term or phrase is enough for the one side to know what is being said about the other. That‘s the nature of insider jokes. Take the topic product, or more precisely product philosophy. A German colleague need only wink to his colleagues and imitate an American colleague by saying „and we‘ve tested it.“

Every fellow German knows what is meant by the phrase: „Oh, here we go again, another American who believes to have developed a solution just because what they tried actually worked, but once and by chance or coincidence.“ The implied criticism is equally clear: „They (the Americans) can‘t explain how and why it worked. The solution is half-baked. In reality it hasn‘t been tested at all.“ For Germans „and we‘ve tested it“ means Americans are naive, quick to claim a breakthrough, at best not thorough.

Risk via false assumptions

Alarms go off in my head whenever I hear insider jokes on either side of the Atlantic. I jump into the conversation immediately and ask questions. For insider jokes are clear indications that the one culture misunderstands the other culture in a critical area. Insider jokes are not thought up, told and retold unless they address foundational matters. And therein lies the danger for German-American collaboration. Insider jokes become imbedded.

And what is imbedded is difficult to root out. Misunderstanding leads to (counter)behaviour. „The Americans are this or that.“ Or „The Germans think like this or than.“ If taken as fact the respective other culture adjusts its approach based on a misinterpretation. If each culture‘s operating assumptions about the other culture are wrong, or just partly wrong, the potential for Americans and Germans working against instead of with and for each other increases.

Several years ago Volkwagen was convinced it knew what the Chinese wanted in a car. With such a large population, with such high levels of population density in cities and towns, it was clear to VW that the Chinese people wanted a compact, agile, fuel-efficient automobile. „The Chinese want a Polo.“ But the Chinese did not want a Polo or any compact car. They wanted a big car. VW‘s operating assumptions in the largest automobile growth market were wrong. Very wrong. That mistake costed VW a rather significant amount of money.

Interconnections and interdependencies

„The German graph“ is one of the American insider jokes (in this case terms). It, too, is a misinterpretation. Americans see many a German graph – usually in a PowerPoint presentation – which for them are „too busy“, with far too much information on them: text, arrows, lines, symbols, etc. They‘re difficult to understand. Looked at for longer than a few minutes such graphs can give Americans headaches. They get the impression that only the presenter – a German – can understand them.

It is true that some „German graphs“ are packed too full with information. But if so, not because the German approach is nonsense, but more likely because that approach was not executed well. The actual disconnect – or misinterpretation – is that Americans are not aware of how Germans explain complexity.

If you believe in the value of explaining interconnections and interdependencies in a systematic way, you have to display them ideally on one slide. This provides overview. Otherwise you would have to break down that complexity into several slides and constantly flip forward and backward to show the system. In other words, to explain interconnections you have to show interconnections.

It really is that simple. Americans and Germans can debate about whether a presenter gets the interconnections and interdependencies right.

They can debate about whether the presenter uses the presentation software in an effective way. But the fundamental German approach to addressing complexity as it is, explaining the system underlying it, is surely not a national cultural weakness of the German people, and most certainly not a weakness other cultures should joke about. For, in fact, grasping complexity is one of the greatest of German national cultural strengths (provided that strength is applied at the right time and in the right way).

Germans can, indeed, tangle themselves up in systems. They do have the tendancy to look at a problem from so many different perspectives, attempting to factor in so many different parameters, in order to reach total consensus, that at some point noone can recall what it is they are trying resolve.

Let‘s keep in mind, however, that there is such a thing as the (American) opposite of „the German graph.“ It is the presentation slide with maximum three statements in oversized, bold letters stating something like: „This is the challenge. This is the solution. We‘ll all make lots of money and mankind will be happy ever after.“

“. . . if they would simply smile.“

During one of her visits to Germany my mother commented: “John, when you do your management seminars be sure to remind the Germans how important it is in their dealings with Americans to smile.” Initially I thought the comment was rather absurd. But in the months, and even years, since then I have come to recognize its significance.

Especially in the public space Americans don’t exactly get the most positive impression from German facial expressions, body language, and from how they deal with each other. It‘s as if they are communicating that the sky is falling, the world is coming to an end, everything is just awful.

Maybe it is due to the strong German inclination to always look for things which don’t work or are imperfect or just substandard. Perhaps the logic is “the better you can find errors, the better you can improve them; the earlier you can anticipate mistakes, the sooner you can prevent them. Everything will be ok.” It‘s certainly an approach that works. Look at Germany. But it‘s certainly not a recipe for a positive atmosphere.

Even more problembewußt

I remember well an episode during my time in the CDU/CSU Parliamentary Group. We were in the U.S., a delegation of German parliamentarians in visiting members of Congress in Washington, D.C. There were several so-called photo opportunities. The politicians stood pressed together. The photographer clicked away.

Just before the first photo was taken one of my German colleagues whispered in my ear: “John, watch how the Americans put on a huge, happy smile.” He was right. Lots of teeth. Bright and shiny. His comment kept popping up in my mind for days afterward. I sensed that it was a bit critical in the sense of: “Look at how superficial you Americans are!” I took it personally. “You Americans” as in you, John, and your family, relatives and friends. “Look, as if everything in America was just great. How naive!”

It bothered me. I felt insulted. It hurt my feelings. Ever since then I notice – at least from my American perspective – how Germans have no problem presenting the world their long faces. Especially in moments of difficulty, when optimism is critical, Germans tend to be even more problembewußt (literally problem-conscious).

When Americans see people with a long face, they ask themselves instinctively (consciously or unconsciously): “What’s their problem? What did they do wrong to put themselves in a position to be so down? What opportunity did they not take advantage of? What battle did they just lose? Why don’t they pull themselves together and pursue the next opportunity? Are they losers?”

This kind of American thinking has not only to do with the figure of speech – “Never let them see you sweat!” – which means: precisely when you‘re down, when you are nervous or unsure of yourself, always give the impression that everything is going well, and that you are capable of handling any and all difficult situations successfully.

It has even more to do with the fundamental American belief that every person is the architect of their own fortune. The American experience is that the country offers many opportunities. So many waves of immigrants have come, worked hard and succeeded. Americans, therefore, have little patience for people who don’t take advantage of those opportunities, but instead look for causes of their failure outside of themselves.

Blaubeuren

The Fall of 1981. My first time in Germany. Blaubeuren, a small town in Swabia. South of Stuttgart. I had signed up for a ten-week intensive course in German at the Goethe Institute. Grundstufe III (Base Level 3). My German back then weak, my memories of Blaubeuren today strong. I will never forget the very first impressions of Germany. The coolness and almost sweetness of the early morning air. The damp lawns and fields. The intense autumn colors of the foliage in a town nestled in the Swabian Alb. The schoolchildren hustling off to school.

The fascinating, yet mysterious, Benedictine Monastery from the 11th Century. The Blautopf (literally blue pot or kettle), a large natural pool of deeply dark water giving access to a complex network of waterways under the hills surrounding Blaubeuren, with its age-old legends of mystery. The Swabian dialect of the region, a version of German I could only rarely understand. The wonderful baked goods I enjoyed each and every day after lunch.

Important in Germany is not to stick out too much. Is it because they don’t want to make others envious? Or because one should demonstrate how to maintain balance, not get a “big head”? Or demonstrate a proper balance between individualism and belonging to a group, whose help one may need at any time?

Keep the subjective and personal to a minimum

Whether giving presentations in grammar school, in high school or at the university level Germans train, practice and stress over and over again objectivity: stick to the facts, no emotions, avoid gaps in your argumentation, be so comprehensive that hardly any questions are necessary in the question and answer part after your presentation.

You see it in German resumés (curriculum vitae). Factual. Unemotional. Objective. No holes in the educational and professional background. Anticipate all the questions a potential employer might ask. Subjective and personal information is kept to a bare minimum. Adding things such as interests or hobbies is a new trend, imported from the U.S. and not a part of the German logic.

Catman and Jazzguy

It was more than a decade ago, but I can remember the scene as if it were last week. A workshop for a German multinational with a large and critical presence in the U.S. The participants were Germans and Americans. Two full days, in a seminar hotel, away from phones, computers, all the action.

An American colleague stood at the front presenting his breakout groups results. An interesting guy, mid-30s, average height, shaved head, wiry, glasses, super intensive eyes, especially when he speaks, almost a bit manic. In the heat of discussion you never knew if he would pounce on you like a cat or suddenly break into a broad smile, sink into his chair tossing his head back, laughing loudly.

I can’t remember what exactly the topic was. Not important. But his German colleagues saw things differently. They had presented before him. Their flipcharts hung on the wall. He – the Cat – responded to each and every one of their questions, doing his best to persuade them of his point of view. Again and again he stressed “we need to orient ourselves clearly on the needs of our customers. If you folks (he meant his German colleagues) would simply understand that, things would go much better on this project.”

In fact, somewhere on each of his flipcharts he stated this point: “listen to customers” or “meet needs” or “respond to concerns.” When he then, during his presentation, made this point for the fifth or sixth time, a German colleague erupted. A similar kind of guy. Average height, perhaps a bit shorter. Slender. Discreetly expressive, kind of like a Jazz musician who while playing thinks hard about what notes to play, all the while maintaining a totally relaxed demeanor. Focused, intense, but relaxed. You don”t see that combination too often in Germany.

“The question is how we do it, how we actually do the work!”

This guy had lived and worked in the U.S. before, for many years. He had a healthy, balanced, fair relationship as a German with the U.S., its people and culture. Both of these guys – Catman and Jazzguy – were friends, too, interacting on a daily basis across the Atlantic.

Jazzguy looked at his American friend, smiled, grabbed his own head with both hands, then said: “Catman, just because you and your American colleagues write on all your flipcharts, and just because you state again and again, that we have to orient ourselves on the needs of the customer, does not mean that you Americans actually do it! And just because we Germans don‘t write this on all of our flipcharts, and don’t state it over and over again, doesn’t mean that we Germans don’t do it!”

Jazzman did not state this in a mean way. On the contrary, he was smiling sincerely the entire time. His message was: “Catman, we don’t need to waste time discussing the goal, which is to serve the customer. That is obvious, it is self-stated in all that we do, including what we are doing here. The question is how we do it, how we actually do the work!”

Jazzman simply wanted to go deeper into what it means to serve the customer. Again, I do not think that Americans are less intelligent than Germans. Maybe a different kind of intelligence, a different approach to doing things intelligently. But the Jazzman’s message was very insightful.

And I have so often experienced this here in Germany, with the Germans. They enter into dialogue with each other, analyzing important, fascinating topics, always asking what, who, why, but friendly, diplomatic (most of the time), seeking the truth, together. Their economy is very strong, which is hardly possible without serving customers.

And his American colleagues, including Catman, understood his intentions in this way. And they understood the message in his statement: Das Was ist das Wie, the what is the how. The goal is defined for the most part by how you try to reach it, the path you take to it. Process.

Case Law and the details

It occurred within my very first year working in the Bundestag for the CDU/CSU Parliamentary Group. There were some serious differences of opinion between me and my team lead, my boss. Apparently people at the highest level became aware of it. Within a few weeks I was simply informed – in a respectful, competent and intelligent way – that I would be moved into another team.

It had surprised me. At no time in the weeks leading up to the organizational change had anyone, not one person, spoken to me. Neither was I asked to describe the situation from my point of view, nor to suggest a possible resolution, nor was there any kind of meeting with my boss in order to talk things out.

In my years of consulting German companies I have come across many internal conflict situations which my clients need to resolve quickly, but prudently. I observe over and over again how they go about it in an almost stealthy way. Quiet, careful, in the background, unobserved. The German approach certainly works. Their society is extraordinarily peaceful, safe, predictable. The Germans know how to resolve conflicts effectively.

In case law every case is unique

A few months back I discussed this with a senior-level American who works very closely with Germany and who has Germans in her organization, including direct reports. We discussed the differences in approaches to conflict resolution.

„John, it‘s true that Germans, when resolving a conflict, will try to do it for all time, to create a kind of best practice out of it. I understand that.“ But it takes too long, Karen went on to say. „And besides, documenting a best practice doesn‘t help anyway.“ I asked why. „Because every conflict is different. People, details, circumstances.“

I agreed with Karen. We went on to speculate about the nature of case law in the Anglo-American legal tradition. Neither of us have any training in the law, but any educated American knows that a legal system based on case law, indeed, sees every case as unique. The system draws not only on the law, but also on precendence (how previous courts resolved the conflict), as well as on the actual details of the case.

„Developing a best practice is not worth the effort. Future conflicts, even if the same in nature, will differ in the details. And true justice has to address those details.“

Red Man. Green Man.

It’s a cliché that Germans are inflexible, that their processes are inflexible. I, too, believed that for many years. This is a complex topic. It depends on the process, of course, and on the particular step within a process. In some cases, Germans, like any other culture, would say: “At this stage of the process stick to the letter of the law. There is little to no room for interpretation.” In other cases, they would say: “Here we have room to interpret, to make our own decision based on the particulars of the situation.“

Now, when the process is documented in black and white, and in detail, it is in the German culture clear that one needs to stick to the process. When, however, it is generally formulated, is not in detail, then it signals that one has the flexibility to interpret. This has to do with the differences between the written and the spoken word in the German context. The written word has a very high level of binding character. The longer, the more detailed, the more restrictive, the less flexible. And the opposite. The shorter, the less detailed, the more flexible. But this is a topic for another day.

2005. I was on a bus from the center of town in Bonn headed home up on the Venusberg. After about twenty minutes we arrived at my stop. I went to the front of the bus and got off. Since more passengers were getting off and on I knew that the bus had a minute or so before it would continue on. So instead of walking twenty feet along the sidewalk to cross the street where the pedestrian crossing was indicated by the wide white stripes, I decided to save a few seconds by walking directly in front of the bus, leaning around it where the driver was sitting in order to see if any cars were coming.

Responsible, according to the German logic

Normally, cars are not allowed to drive around a bus while it is still loading or unloading passengers. Just to be safe, though, I looked. A car was just beginning to maneuver around the bus. Plenty of time for me to scoot across the street with my long legs. I decided to do it. Barely across the street, I heard a very loud screech. The car had come to a very sudden stop, hitting the brakes hard. I pivoted around immediately only to see a young boy, no older than seven or eight years old, standing just in front of that car, trembling, with no more than a foot or two separating them. He then scurried across the street onto the sidewalk.

Had the driver not reacted so quickly, chances are that boy either would not be with us today, or would be in a wheelchair, or worse. It shook me to the core. Time and again, over the years since, I recall that moment. I shudder. According to the German logic – social logic – I was partly responsible for that boy’s behavior, for choosing to cross the street directly in front of the bus and not at the official crossing point. Now, I am not sure if I would have been legally responsible, had he been hit by the car, but that is not the message here.

German thinking goes like this: “You are an adult. You know the rules. There are good reasons why we have official crossing points, and why they are marked with wide white stripes. So that drivers of cars, buses and trucks know to be careful at those points. And so that pedestrians cross at those points and not simply wherever they want. We want to minimize accidents between vehicles and human beings, especially children. So be a role model for children. If you pass at those official points, that will reinforce what they have been taught by their parents, teachers and the crossing guards who volunteer in the mornings and afternoons near the Kindergartens and elementary schools. If you do not stick to the rules, they will be tempted to do the same, possibly with tragic results.“

“They obey the rules no matter what.“

The American in me thinks that children should be responsible for themselves. Their parents, in the end, have to teach them good judgement, and not too simply do what others do. “Am I responsible for the actions of children of other people?” This, too, is certainly a topic for another day. It’s an important one, but far too complex for this story.

Little red man. Little green man. Many of us non-Germans are familiar with the traffic lights in Germany. The cars look for red, yellow, green. Pedestrians crossing streets look for the red man and the green man. The red man signals: “Don’t cross the street. You might come into contact with a car, bus or truck, and it won’t be terribly pleasant.” The green man signals: “Ok, you’re good. Cross the street.“

Many of us have stood at a street-crossing looking at that little red man and at the same time seeing no car, bus or truck far and wide. We look around and notice that the Germans are waiting, many stiff, still, often a grim look on their face. We, at least we Americans, wonder what in the world are they waiting for. Why aren’t they crossing the street? No cars coming. Many of us conclude: “Oh, they’re Germans. They obey the rules no matter what. How ridiculous.“

“Do you think you’re someone special?“

2005. Up until then, after seventeen years in Germany and I’d say that at I had received a comment barked out at me least a dozen times when I crossed the street while that little red man was still shining bright. “Hey you idiot, are you color blind?” or “Do you think you’re someone special?” or “Don’t you see that there are children standing here?“

That last comment is the key one, it goes to the heart of German social logic. For many years, when the target of such barks, I thought: “Mind your own business. Get a life. Get a job. Who made you a policeman?” In some instances I barked such things back, but in a more colorful language. “Those arrogant, busybody, know-it-all Germans”, I thought, “obeying silly rules like mindless slaves.”

Until that day. That day when a boy of seven was almost struck by a multi-ton chunk of steel, on sleek wheels of rubber gripping the concrete, with the power of well over a hundred horses, and often an impatient driver at the wheel. It was on that day that I understood why Germans in some cases are very inflexible.

2005. My son, Daniel, was also seven years old. Average height. Light as a feather. Tender. His grammar school was around the corner from our house. He needed not cross the street when walking from home to school and back. On another day, in another part of Bonn, however, that seven year old boy could have been mine. And that car could have been another car. Not as quick to stop.

In Tears

The young woman, Susan, an American, left in tears. Clearly she was inexperienced professionally. And her expectations were unrealistically high. And she had never worked for a German before.

Antje is a petite woman, with fine features, very expressive dark eyes. A perfectionist, correct in everything she does. But also warm-hearted in a quiet, considerate way. Antje wants the best for her team, especially for the younger women. She knows firsthand what it’s like to earn respect in a technology-based company run by men.

Susan had simply not met Antje’s expectations. Accordingly, their feedback discussion addressed unmet goals. Antje, not aware of how critique in the American context is best communicated, took the German approach, the only one she knows, with the only difference that the talk was in English.

Antje found Susan to be overly emotional, a bit naive about her ability, and unprepared for the discussion. At the same time, Antje saw raw potential in Susan. Her mind was quick, she worked hard, was willing to take on challenges. Antje had a plan to coach Susan along to her full potential, including getting corporate sponsorship for an evening MBA program at a well-respected university.

It wouldn’t come to be. Within a month Susan left Antje’s team, moving to a similar organization in another division. She had found Antje to be unfair and harsh.

Frau Schmitz

A few weeks back I caught a stomach virus. I needed to pick up some medicine at my physician‘s office – Dr. Planck. It was a Friday afternoon. I did not have an appointment. His office, in the middle of Bonn, is small, with just Dr. Planck and his secretary/office manager. It‘s next to impossible to just „drop in“, but my schedule that week gave me no other choice.

I entered his practice, walked passed the waiting room nodding to the five or six folks reading magazines or scrolling up and down on smartphones, then popped my head in the secretary‘s office. „You don‘t have an appointment, Herr Magee.“

There was no smile on her face. In fact, she rarely smiles. Gruff would be the right word in English. Gruff is often the right word for Germans who Americans believe should be happy, shiny, smiling, friendly, and customer-oriented.

Friendly incompetence vs. unfriendly competence

„No, I‘m sorry, Frau Schmitz. I simply couldn‘t find the time to call. And my schedule ….“ She interrupted me in a kind of complaining tone. It wasn‘t clear exactly what she said. „Please wait in the waiting room, Herr Magee.“ I smiled and thanked her.

Twenty-five years I have lived in Germany. This type of interaction I‘ve experienced more than a thousand times: twenty-five years times twelve months times four times a month. I am very familiar with it. In my early years my reaction would have been: „Typical German. Unfriendly (gruff). Rules-obsessed (no appointment). Not customer-oriented („Don‘t they want me as a patient?“)

I don‘t think like that any more, though. Frau Schmitz got me in within forty-five minutes.

Dr. Planck was happy to see me. He asked not only about the virus, but about other aspects of my health, then wrote out the prescription. Frau Schmitz handled the paperwork very quickly and efficiently, then recommended what apothecary I should go to. She also had a few other tips about what I should eat and drink over the next few days. All the while she began to smile and engage in some very pleasant small talk.

Frau Schmitz appeared at first to be Frau Gruff, but then was in reality Frau Competent, Frau Caring and Frau Pleasant, all in one. Whenever people ask me to recommend a good physician in Bonn, I always recommend Dr. Planck (and Frau Schmitz).

Flying Too High

A DAX30 company. Industry. Engineering and manufacturing. A senior-level manager. German. Let‘s call him Heinrich.

I had done about six months of work for his organization. Several times I sat in on their staff meetings, having been asked to play „fly on the wall“ (or Mäuschen, little mouse, as the Germans would say), to observe the interactions.

Like any team they, too, had their areas of improvement. Heinrich asked me for my recommendations. Since I had only my impressions, I suggested that I do a Check, an audit, which is a series of background interviews with his staff and selected subject-area experts within their respective groups: design engineering, product management, testing, materials, processes, etc.

Listen carefully

Audit, from Latin, means to listen. Which is what I do, asking the right questions, in the right sequence, listening carefully and taking down notes as accurately as possible. I then take time to rewrite my notes, analyze them, in order to then go back to my client to present and propose what could be done to improve things.

As is always the case, if you gain the trust of the folks being interviewed – and there is room for improvement – they open up, especially the Germans. Well, one of those areas concerned the communication between Heinrich and his direct reports.

Both sides, the German and the American reports, stated that Heinrich simply did not take the time, or make the effort, to spell out sufficiently what his strategic thinking was. They felt a bit left in the dark, and asked me to please address this with him.

That the Americans would voice this concern did not surprise me, for the reasons I give in the core content on German leadership. But that the German reports were equally concerned signaled to me that this must be an area of improvement.

„I refuse to spell out . . . . “

Thinking this would be easy to improve, and therefore not requiring any kind of team session or workshop, I raised the topic over lunch with Heinrich. His reaction was not at all what I had expected. Heinrich became impatient, almost a bit angry: „I refuse to spell out my strategic thinking anymore than I currently do. If my folks don‘t understand it, then they‘re not the right people for their positions.“

I was taken aback, but kept Heinrich in the discussion on this topic, looking for ways to get him to see things from the perspective of his team: „But, Dr. Künow (not his real name), you know that you think on several levels at one time, and in very sophisticated ways (which was true. I was not patronizing him). Even very capable people cannot always follow you.“

This did not help. He stuck to his initial reaction, at least in that conversation with me. Later I would find out that he did, indeed, put a bit more effort into making clear what he expected from his organization.

“I might just as well do it myself!“

During our conversation, which had lasted no longer than half an hour, Heinrich said something which over the years I have heard dozens of times from German managers: „If I have to spell out in detail the work (meaning tasks, mandates, missions assigned), I might just as well do it myself!“

This is pure-form German leadership logic. Germans expect the next level down in hierarchy to understand the overall purpose of a generally-formulated task, mandate, or assignment in such a way that they can figure out on their own the details of its tactical execution.

The key terms here are „generally-formulated“, „mandate“ and „ figure out the details.“ Why? Germans in leadership positions, regardless of where they are in the hierarchy, believe that it should not be necessary to „spell out“ the how (tactics). Next level actors – management, subject-area experts, support staff – should have the required training, expertise and self-initiative to spell out the mission for themselves. If they can‘t, or are unwilling, they are not qualified to do the work.

On the flip side of this logic is the desire of the Germans to do that „spelling out.“ This is why they feel uncomfortable – and even reject – tasks, mandates, missions or assignments which include too much information about how the work should be done (tactics).

Too prescriptive, limiting, restrictive

An assignment with not only a description of the overall mission (strategy), but also details about the how (tactics), is considered by Germans to be too prescriptive, limiting, restrictive. They want maximum freedom in interpreting the mission and then executing it as they see best, based on their understanding of the situation. „That‘s what I was trained for, and that‘s what I get paid for. The next level above should not get too involved in my work.“

Dr. Künow and his team were a very high-performing transatlantic organization. In many ways they were the forerunners in their company when it came to addressing how to integrate German and American approaches. Yet, they had their areas of improvement, too.

Heinrich continued to „fly too high“ for his organization, but they learned to adapt to him. For his part, Heinrich found other ways to make more transparent his strategic thinking. It was a dance they would do for several more years.

Anna in Sales

I‘ve become friends with a woman in my neighborhood. Anna is new to Bonn, having moved here to take a sales job in a well known electronics and household appliance retailer, the largest chain in Germany and very successful.

Her sales training lasted four weeks. Based on what Anna told me it sounded very comprehensive and intense. The salespeople are expected to have deep technical knowledge of their products. And although they are trained in sales, as well as in how to interact with customers, it is clear that the emphasis is on the products as technical solutions.

For any of my readers who have spent time in such stores in Germany, and asked a sales person a question or two, you‘ll know what I mean about product knowledge. German salespeople can go into great depth, sounding at times as if they were involved in the product development process itself. The depth of information is often too much for us Americans. Asking a simple question seldom leads to a simple answer.

Help customers. Take pride in your work.

Such stores in Germany are called a Fachgeschäft, a term not easily translated into American English. The equivalent would be „a store with technical products, sold by staff who view themselves as experts, who will give you detailed information on the products, including letting you know what is best for you.“

What is the spirit in the hearts of these salespeople? Arrogance? Are they know-it-alls? Or is it Technikverliebheit (obsession with technology)? Those were certainly my impressions in my early years in Germany. But they haven‘t been for a long time. The spirit is: help the customer, be professional, take pride in your work, demonstrate respect.

And this spirit you‘ll find in the local bakeries, at the computer store (especially the Apple re-sellers), from restaurant servers, at the information desk of the Deutsche Bahn in any train station, at the post office, in the bookstore, with the butcher in the supermarket, and so on. And because it is deeply cultural, it is a shared logic. The German customer expects it.