For some people, it comes naturally, at least seemingly so.
You meet the people who could 'sell ice to an Eskimo'.
At times, this is beautiful and such a powerful gift in the right hands, but in the wrong hands, it is terrible.
We see time and time again stories of double-glazing salespeople who lock themselves in old people's homes until they sign a form for new double-glazing, people who phone the elderly and get them to sell their house for an equity release when they never wanted the equity.
Vulnerable people are exploited by the guile and cunning of people who are good at selling but for the wrong reasons.
I started my career in a place where I never had to sell. I delivered newspapers to people's houses. I tried to be kind and pleasant whenever I saw them, and they gave me a tip at Christmas; it never felt like selling.
Then I sold ice cream in a shop for a set price, but it wasn't my shop; people came in, I gave them a cone, and they gave me the money they went. At the end of the day, I got paid regardless of how many cones I'd sold.
Then I stacked shelves in Tesco, and there's no selling incentive.
When I got the opportunity and the chance to train as a healthcare professional, it felt (and still does) like the most extraordinary thing in the world.
The most extraordinary privilege is that people would put their trust in you to look after an aspect of their health.
And so, five years of university and then three years of hospital employment where I never had to sell anything to anyone made me feel that selling was always about Wolf of Wall Street, always about the used car guy, always about double glazing.
Everything else was service, not selling.
I didn't realise there is service in selling; it took Chris Barrow to teach me that.
There is a famous story in my life that I've told many times not long after I instructed Chris Barrow to be our business coach and mentor when we went for a meal at Jamie's Italian restaurant in Nottingham.
For some reason or another, during that meal, the hubbub around us of people talking died down, and the room was very quiet just at the point where Chris shouted at me, "You think sales is an STD?".
I did.
On another occasion, after I'd booked Chris to speak to our group, I heckled him from the back of the room (He told me he'd never been heckled by the guy who booked him before). He was encouraging people to 'sell what was selling'.
I reacted to that, I was healthcare, I didn't sell what was selling.
And then I read Dan Pink.
In Dan Pink's ground-breaking book To Sell His Human. It tells us and instructs us that we're all selling all the time.
I'm a master salesman; I always have been, and I never realised it.
When I was doing my newspaper run, I sold them a vision of me, of a nice guy who was regular somebody they could trust to deliver the newspaper dry, unripped someone that would say hello, would help them, would open and shut the gate for old ladies.
I got more money in tips than I should have done because I sold myself.
I did the same in the ice cream shop. I sold a vision of myself to the customers who came in and a vision of myself to my boss. I kept my job; I convinced people that I was a good guy (I hope I am).
It's all selling.
When I first met Alison on her first day, I sold to her, I sold her a vision of myself, of who I am and who I was, of my values, and of my hopes for the future. We've been married for more than 25 years.
We're all selling all the time.
Sometimes, it is non-sales selling (in fact, most of the time, it's non-sales selling) but that's ok.
Once we understand that we're selling all the time, all we have to do is remember that we have a responsibility to sell well and sell ethically, and selling becomes 'Sales in service'.
When a patient sits in front of me at The Campbell Clinic for the first time, and they have a problem, and they would like a solution to that problem, it is up to me to sell the solution to that problem.
It is not up to me to sell the solution for my own benefit; it is up to me to sell the solution for the benefit of the person in front of me.
If I continue to do that time and time again in a way that benefits that individual and provides them with a solution which is more valuable than that to which they pay for that solution, then my business will grow, my reputation will grow, my contentment and the pride in the work that I have will improve, and everything will get better.
Sales is a long-term game; it is a psychological assessment of the person who sits in front of us, to understand them as an individual and to provide them with a solution (often which they will pay for in sales selling) and one which benefits them for the longer term.
The psychological assessment of sales is complicated and fascinating; people buy in different ways.
In later blogs in this series, I will discuss sales personalities and customer personalities.
I have become fascinated with the psychology of this, but as a short spoiler in this area, I will tell you that I am a 'CEO personality' by my own definition.
It takes me about seven seconds to decide whether I've trusted someone, and then I'll happily pay for whatever it is they're offering (If I have the resources to do so).
I meet people of that personality often in my work, but I also meet people of many others.
The interesting thing, though, as we navigate sale, selling and non-sales selling in healthcare is that when the law changed in the last few years, led by the extraordinarily courageous Nadine Montgomery, we were provided with the principle and framework for Montgomery consent in healthcare, it was a sales process.
Montgomery consent tells us that we must understand the person in front of us and offer them solutions to their problems which fit their characters and personalities; that, in fact, is the fundamental basis of Montgomery consent and, in fact, the fundamental basis of sales.