In the most recent poll on occupational prestige in Germany conducted by the Allensbach Institute engineers and university professors took seventh place, behind physicians and craftsmen, but well ahead of politicians and journalists.
26% of Germans polled noted a high degree of respect for the engineering profession. No wonder, for Germans define individual prestige based on technical (specialized) knowledge.
Almost every third supervisory board member of a DAX30 company is an engineer by training. Industrial heavyweights like Volkswagen and DaimlerBenz have always been run by engineers, to the dismay, as the magazine Spiegel wrote, of those colleagues with a business or legal background.
“We’re like ducks. We’re not good at either swimming or flying.” This was the response of a graduate student in Wirtschaftsingenieurwesens – a kind of combination of business and engineering, each of them in the lighter form – when asked what subject material her studies involved.
The duck metaphor reveals a conflict in German companies. Those working in sales & marketing are still looked down upon a bit as people who go from door-to-door selling a product (vacuum cleaners is the cliché) which they have neither developed nor manufactured. Even more, colleagues in sales & marketing often feel unfairly blamed when the company does not perform well.
Prestige in the German economy still goes to those who invent, develop and make physical products. Engineers and artisans are among the most highly respected disciplines.
The results of their work can be seen, held, put to work, and depending on their sophistication even marveled at. Whereas the success of capable sales & marketing people can be seen only in dry, impersonal numbers.
In addition, almost all professionals in sales & marketing transitioned into that discipline from another one, perhaps even from engineering. In fact, Germany doesn’t have a traditional Berufsgruppe – occupation category – for sales. There is no guild going back to the Middle Ages as there are for almost all other technical occupations. Thus the duck-metaphor. Neither fish nor fowl.
Nonetheless, the importance of the work “ducks” perform continues to increase in today’s global economy, where quality and technical prowess alone are not enough to sell a product.
When persuading, Germans feel obligated to present the Gesamtbild, the full picture, all of the facts, the pretty as well as the less pretty, what works, what does not.
This is a Bringschuld, literally bring or deliver obligation. The German presenter does not wait until critical questions from the audience pull out or expose the weaknesses of an argument. In Germany it is a sign of competence, professionalism, honesty and integrity to reveal openly the weaknesses of what is being presented.
An attempt to conceal the weaknesses of an argument, offering, concept or solution leaves a German listener with only two possible explanations. The presenter either is not aware of the weaknesses, and is therefore not fully competent, or the presenter is indeed aware but trying to conceal the weaknesses, and therefore dishonest.
Either way the presenter will not persuade the German listener. And worse, the presenter‘s credibility has been damaged severely.
In a January 2015 article in DIE ZEIT Tina Hildebrandt writes critically and with irony about the Merkel government engaging experts in order to study what makes the German people happy, and how to move them in that direction. Anstupsen is what the experts call their method.
The experts are developing kleineEntscheidungshilfen – little decision making aids – to prod German citizens in that direction. That is precisely the problem, Hildebrandt writes: “An administration should persuade, not nudge.”
The article demonstrates how quickly Germans get angry when one tries to push them in a certain direction even if only with the help of “little decision making aids.” The slightest suspicion that any action aims to get a decision is immediately counterproductive.
The Germans sense any form of nudge or prod as drängen – as pressure, as pushing. Germans want to be persuaded. And when they make a decision they reject any kind of outside influence.
Jemandem das Blaue vom Himmel versprechen – to promise someone the blue of the heavens – is to promise the unreachable. It is an attempt to persuade via promises which have”weder Hand noch Fuss – neither hand nor foot.
To exaggerate, to paint a rosy picture of future developments is not in any way convincing to Germans. This might be one of the reasons why they are so sceptical about utopias of every kind.
Martin Wehrle, a German managment coach, writes career-articles for DIE ZEIT. In a recent article he advises: Nicht aufdrängen! – Don’t be pushy! He notes that many job applicants are far too aggressive, as early as in the initial sentences of their cover letter.
“Because I am a perfect fit for the position, I am sending you my application ….” Starting off like that almost guarantees an immediate rejection, writes Wehrle.
Instead of allowing the reader to make her own judgement, the applicant makes it for them. Personnel departments want to make their own decision who is right for the company. That’s what they get paid for.
Wehrle recommends: “Intelligent applicants act like witnesses before a jury. They don’t push the jury to a decision. Instead they simply state the facts, objectively.
The more objective the witness comes across, the more they are believed. The best applicants don’t speak for their application. Their application speaks for them.
San Diego. 1996. Political advertisements of every kind must pass the objectivity test in Germany. The Germans expect substance and convincing arguments. And although the private and personal is seeping more and more into German politics, due to the influence of American politics, politicians in Germany are still identified directly with the stands they take on specific issues. They represent the political platforms of their respective parties.
Political party conventions in Germany are held once or twice a year. Their purpose is not to nominate candidates before elections, but instead to debate and formulate policy. At the conventions the stage is dominated by the party, with up to three or four rows of ten to fifteen seats per row occupied by the party elite. Until recently the speaker’s podium was to the side. And even though it has been moved to the center, the thirty to fifty colleagues occupying the stage send a clear signal: “Sure, we have different speakers during the convention. But make no mistake, the party comes first, the individuals politicians and office-holders come second!”
In the summer of 1996, while a political adviser to the CDU/CSU Parliamentary Group in Bonn, I – John Magee – attended the Republican National Convention in San Diego. My job was to accompany and assist Peter Hintze (then Secretary General of the CDU), Jürgen Chrobog (then German ambassador to the U.S.) and Ruprecht Polenz (then Member of the Foreign Relations Committee). Bob Dole and Jack Kemp were nominated, then in the general election beaten badly by Bill Clinton and Al Gore.
Along with meetings with leading Republicans, Peter Hintze was especially interested in observing the details of the convention. Part of his job was organizing and preparing the CDU conventions for Chancellor Helmut Kohl. It is well known that American party conventions serve the primary purpose of presenting to voters a high level of unity, in terms of the ticket and the substance of the party’s platform. Political debate does not take place, and certainly not in full view of the American public. Germany is different. The conventions are televised from start to finish. And the Germans debate, openly, directly, harshly. The German public can follow it blow by blow by television or radio.
The great sensation of that 1996 Republican National Convention was Colin Powell’s speech. Many had hoped that he would be their party’s candidate. Immediately after his 1992 election, Clinton asked Powell to be his Secretary of State, hoping to prevent a Powell-candidacy four years later. Powell had declined respectfully. The arena in San Diego, fifteen thousand strong, exploded in applause when General Powell walked on stage, in civilian clothes, and proceeded to speak directly to the hearts and minds of the American people. From his heart and with great intensity.
Like any and every truly persuasive speaker in the American context Powell used anecdotes, figures of speech and several brief, but very personal stories to convey his message. He wanted to move the people emotionally. Hintze and Chrobog turned to me time and again asking for an explanation of these stories. Was meint er damit? What does he mean? What is he trying to say? The atmosphere in the convention center was electrifying.
Sitting behind the two Germans, and due to the noise level, which had even surprised me, I had to stick my head forward between theirs and literally scream my responses to their questions. It was clear to all three Germans – Hintze, Chrobog, Polenz – that the convention, and General Powell’s speech, were all about emotions.