The secret to networking
You really can’t lose
“How badly can this go wrong?” I glibly remarked when Chris suggested we stop for a sushi lunch. I was tired and hungry—we’d just marched ten kilometres under Seoul’s blazing summer sun—and sushi seemed a safe choice next to the other restaurants whose menu offered neither English nor illustrations. With sushi, we’d at least know what we were getting.
Famous last words. The meal went horribly wrong as first the owner/chef, in stark contrast to the exceedingly polite proprietors typical of Seoul, wouldn’t let us decipher the unexpectedly complicated menu in peace, instead hovering menacingly close despite me asking him in K-drama Korean to give us “a few minutes.” And then, when we’d finally ordered—both of us now flustered—the chef proceeded to serve up sashimi in varying levels of frozenness. Chris promptly lost his appetite, but kindly waited for me to nibble on frozen fish for a torturous half hour, during which time more dishes kept appearing as if in a horror film, each fresh plate cementing us to our seats when all we wanted to do was leave.
Chris was equally flummoxed:
We ordered two lunch specials of the day, which in translation seemed to mean a platter of sashimi, which is what came out, but odd looking sashimi, which we both thought was maybe because it included raw beef, but it didn’t, instead the odd marbled coloring was because most of the sashimi was frozen solid, ice cube like solid.
I’ve never ever been given frozen sashimi, and I couldn’t, and still can’t, figure out how what is clearly an experienced chef (older man, plenty of content customers, restaurant that has been around for a long time), could serve it. Was he messing with us for some reason? Were we supposed to heat it up? Was he simply confused and unable to realize the sashimi he’d just sliced up and put on our plate with his hands was fish ice?
A few days after fish-gate, I’m doubled over laughing at Chris’ recounting of that disastrous meal, alongside 22,000 subscribers of Chris’ newsletter, Chris Arnade Walks the World.
In the same post, Chris thanks me for keeping my cool in the face of fish and links to my newsletter. Overnight, I gained 6 new subscribers, which for a newsletter my size is massive. All this because I saw Chris—whose newsletter I’d been religiously reading for a year—was going to be in Seoul at the same time as me, and sent him an email.
The secret to networking
Few people I’ve met, professionally or otherwise, have had a kind word to say about networking: it’s transactional, shallow, self-serving—on top of being anxiety-inducing and potentially degrading when making the acquaintance of those far more accomplished than our aspiring selves.
A decade ago, I shared this opinion. But then one day, at an American Chamber of Commerce breakfast event in Bangkok, I got talking to a friendly gentleman at the egg station with an interesting backstory: PhD scientist turned executive coach. The next day I sent him a follow-up email, he suggested a coffee, and we’ve now been friends for six years.
That one experience transformed the way I view networking. I stopped seeing it as a string of sales pitches (for which I am the product), and began approaching it as a way to make genuine connections.
With that shift, I’d stumbled upon the secret to networking:
Networking is all about connecting, and as long as you’re genuinely curious about the person in front of you, you can’t lose.
Networking—the past six years have taught me—is not about crafting the perfect elevator pitch to impress others with your many accomplishments. Such a pitch does not exist, because everyone goes to networking events wanting to talk about their accomplishments. Everyone is so preoccupied with how they’re coming across no one has the headspace to take in your pitch, however perfect.
So the most effective strategy, quite simply, is to ask and listen. Ask the people you meet what they do, what they’re proud of, what they’re struggling with, what they’re hoping to achieve in two, five, ten years. And listen to what they have to say. Then, if their story intrigues, ask for their card and follow up with a coffee so you can actually get to know them.
When networking like this, you can’t lose. Either you end up deepening your connection over coffee and gain a professional ally, maybe even a friend, or you discover you and the other person don’t gel and can move on to the next interesting person in the limitless pool of potential connections.
Of course your desire to connect will always harbour an agenda. You’ll want to talk about yourself, your accomplishments, your goals. But all that comes later. There’s no point trying to tell someone you’ve just met about yourself—they don’t care. The key is to first establish a genuine connection, then they’ll be excited to hear more about you.
Despite knowing this, up until very recently I was still pitching my newsletter to strangers—a professional at a networking event, a friend of a friend over dinner. I had a branded QR code for people to scan and immediately subscribe on their phones. It only took a 100% failure rate for me to finally give up on the gimmick. No busy person wants another newsletter—however life-changing I proclaim it—in their overflowing inbox. What actually works, every time, is for me to get to know the person, for them to get to know me, then eventually I bring up my newsletter and some of them go: hey, I’d love to read that.
Networking is a long game. It takes months, sometimes years, for the fruits of your labour to ripen. But when they do, they’re priceless.
When the fruits of your networking efforts ripen, you get to count among your friends a wise executive coach who’s always happy to be your sounding board and ponder with you the meaning of life. When they do, you get to spend an enjoyable day walking with a seasoned writer—disastrous sushi meal notwithstanding—then gain six new subscribers overnight. When they do, you wake up one day to discover half your subscribers came from recommendations from Substackers you worked up the courage to connect with. When they do, you get this wonderful LinkedIn recommendation from an experienced stakeholder who taught you more than half of what you know:
Val is incredibly detail-oriented, friendly, responsive, and highly knowledgeable about newsletter growth and management… She's a proficient email marketing professional and a great collaborator!
When you approach networking with the same curiosity you’d accord a new friend, you genuinely can’t lose. Trust me on this.
What do you think?
Before I let you loose on the dozens of networking events you’re now raring to get to, let’s first hear your thoughts:
What’s your secret to networking?
Reveal your best tips so we can all ace networking while having a tonne of fun. Please hit “reply” or leave a comment—I read every response and I’d love to hear from you. If you want, share this post with someone who’s brilliant at networking so they can tell you if they endorse my secret.
Until next Friday… Stay thoughtful,
Val
p.s. A special shout-out for the following brilliant newsletters whose authors have been kind enough to recommend Val Thinks to their readers. Reading their words brings me such joy, I’d love for you to share my happiness:
I understand this concept when you said "establish a genuine connection, then they’ll be excited to hear more about you."But I never really experience this.
I feel like being genuinely curious about them, their work and accomplishments does spark good conversations. However, nothing really adds on after. Perhaps it has everything to do with the follow up email?
I've never been on the other end, what do you feel when someone truly listens to you when networking? What would make one be excited to hear more about others?
Love it!