Paul Syng’s SQUAD
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Chapter Seven
Get Sued
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Read Time: 8 minutes
Hello
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The only thing worse than clients who don’t pay are the ones who sue you. Welcome to Chapter Seven of SQUAD. Today we’re talking about the nasty side of running a design business. We’ll also do deep dives on how to manage and set expectations from the previous Chapter.
But before we begin, this elaborate essay, I want to share another exciting project I started three days ago. The idea for doing it, however, has been in the making for some months.
What is this new project? I’ve started to Write Every Day. What am I writing? Start by reading Page 1 and find out for yourself. Plus, if I told you the topic here, Page 3 would become pointless. But without Page 2 you wouldn’t have any common thread. I reckon Page 1 is eager to meet you.
What does this mean? Every day, for two focused hours, in the morning I’m at my desk writing and designing. More on my love for making below.
Back to today’s Chapter.
Yes, I have been sued. It’s not glamourous—any resemblance to Suits is mere coincidence. Having a healthy client relationship go hostile, especially for first time operators or a small studio, is demoralising, painful and, at times, humiliating. Borderline depressive, too.
I have had my fair share of bad clients—who don’t pay despite constant reminders; who expand the scope of work in an effort to maximize their dollar spent; who extend a project timeline by months fucking your cash flow; who request unnecessary changes because the son or wife doesn’t get the concept; and, the worst, who lack any respect for you and your work.
Getting sued is like swimming in a tide, you’ve got to stay afloat to survive. But the worst is a lack of respect and empathy in a relationship. A reason why I have developed deep trust issues in the last decade. I look, listen and approach with an air of scepticism while onboarding new clients or working with existing ones.
And that fucking sucks.
Don’t get me wrong. I loathe looking at prospective clients through a cynical lens. New business should call for celebration. By the way, existing business should be celebrated too. They help keep the lights on.
At the end of the day, we’re dealing with people—not walls or machines or apps. It is why when a client relationship goes south it affects your life beyond the exposed-brick studio walls.
By that I mean, everything happening in your professional life gets carried over to your personal life even when you don’t want it. The repercussions, inevitable.
Personally, I find it hard to distinguish and balance work and life. It’s who I am and plenty, before me, have expressed it in better words. I know you know what I mean. So let’s carry on.
How passion gets in the way.
Everything about the creative/creating process—from coming up with ideas, doing the research, reading, talking to and meeting new people, exploring new territories, expanding my thought and thinking to full-scale execution, there has never been a dull moment.
It is liberating. And doing it every day keeps me on my toes, charged for the next hit. Like I said before, the first thing I do after jumping out of bed every morning is setting the Mocha pot brewing and open up OmmWriter, Photoshop and Illustrator (technically they’re never close, ever).
I love what I do for a living—doodling from the moment I stepped out of my mum. Making and finishing something every day is my addiction. I write every day (now) and make dope stuff daily (sure, the dope is debatable).
And getting paid to do what I love is insane. It’s a pity so many people hate their jobs or haven’t found their true calling. I assure you the grass is greener, softer and smells WAY better over here.
Having clarity and purpose come fitted with the birthday suit has been a blessing. No kidding. And there’s a reason why I hammered all this in the last five paragraphs.
Being crazy madly in love with your work means hours fly, you go the extra mile every time, and you put your heart and soul into something you’re getting paid to do by the client.
STOP. FUCKING. DOING. THAT. SHIT.
Here’s my beef with why everything is wrong with that approach. As a responsible, creative person, artist and maker I put myself out there, become vulnerable and open up to criticism for the work I do. At times in small parts and others—blood, sweat and soul become the baseline grid.
When I started out, I thought, if only we (the studio) put in our BEST on projects, clients would see the effort. They’d know we did our best—going the extra three thousand miles.
Naive to the world of business, fresh out of school, I was balling—oblivious to what was around the curve.
And it’s precisely the type of thinking you want to avoid. A huge part of helping me learn this skill goes to my partner. But before we dive into the how, and to better understand this, let me clarify one thing.
Commercial artists and “artists” are not cut from the same cloth—in function. One is being paid by the client to work on and solve a business problem, and the other is making art, for herself.
The end objectives/goals are different.
Okay, I know this sounds counterintuitive and appears to be swimming in negativity on the surface. And I know what you’re thinking and how this looks. But, trust me, stick around a little longer and you’ll see why it makes sense.
You have to come from value. As cliche as it may sound.
One of the most important lessons I learned early on, the hard and stubborn way, when dealing with clients—keeping relationships healthy and prospering is being a partner.
From thinking thank god this client gave us work so we can pay our bills to treat the client as an equal part of the relationship—you need our help, hiring us means we bring value to your business and brand, and this gives us a chance to do great work together.
Those are lovely words. Here’s what they look like in implementation.
“You’ll get exposure by working for us,” or “we’ll introduce you to our network,” are words that lead to nothing worth having, every time. For any relationship to be successful, it’s got to be mutually benefitting to both parties.
Begin by asking what’s in it for me? Why should I even consider doing this project? Does the work or project align with the studio’s and my personal vision? For example, if you’re a vegan, and the project entails branding and packaging for poultry.
I’m also not saying be a dick about it.
Let me give you another example, and this is right out of my partner’s text-book. Close your eyes. Okay, wait. Close your mental eye. Imagine it’s Friday evening and you’re all set for a night out with friends.
Meanwhile, the client is running a full-page advertisement in the paper on Monday morning. The publication accepts final assets latest by Friday 6 pm. The client, aware of the deadline, plays dilly dally all week, sending you the final sign-off at 5:30 pm on Friday.
What are you going to do?
Sit down, make the ad, destroy your evening and upset your friends, while hurling abuses and spitting at the screen or tell the client, it’s no longer your problem—if they need work done, it’s got to be done timely.
Here’s what Harkirat, my partner, taught me to do in those situations.
If it was a one-time thing and the client was genuine, and they paid well we would oblige. But if this were frequent behaviour, we’d politely refuse, letting them figure it out—at the risk of losing the client.
The mentality, at no point, should be the client is doing you a favour. They are not on a pedestal dictating terms—to which you must meet every whim and fancy.
Apologies for the abrupt pause here but let’s continue this topic over next week. I’m dead tired and in need of sleep.
Before you go
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Make this week epic!
Yours truly,
Paul Syng
