Most consultants talk too much on sales calls, and the reason is that explaining feels like proving competence. My rule is that the client should be doing most of the talking. Here's what I teach: your job is to listen, ask, and diagnose, and the urge to solve the problem on the call is the one to resist.
Let the client do most of the talking, and answer the urge to solve the problem with a question instead.
People find talking about their own situation rewarding, so a client who talks more leaves rating the call higher.
On your next call, count how many questions you ask before you describe anything you do.
Selling is socializing.
Leah Neaderthal, Smart Gets Paid
The client should be doing most of the talking, and my instruction is blunt: listening mode on. I describe it physically, as leaning back and becoming a sponge, because the posture is easier to remember than a ratio.
There is a reason it works beyond simple politeness. Tamir and Mitchell at Harvard found that disclosing information about yourself activates the brain's reward system, and that people valued the chance to do it enough to give up money, losing around 17% of potential earnings in one of their experiments. A client who spends a call describing their own situation is having a better time than a client who spends it listening to you.
Two consequences follow for a first conversation:
The counting version, if you want one: notice how many questions you ask before you first describe something you do. The questions worth asking are the ones about value rather than scope.
Solving the problem live feels like the fastest way to prove you can do the work, which is exactly why I call resisting it the hardest principle in my system and put it on a sticky note.
The instinct makes sense. You have spent a career being valued for solutions, and a client describing a problem you can fix creates real pressure to fix it right there. The trouble is what it costs:
| What solving live feels like | What it does instead |
|---|---|
| Demonstrating expertise | Hands over the part they would have paid for |
| Being generous | Ends the conversation early, with nothing left to buy |
| Building trust | Positions you as a helpful resource rather than a partner |
Three ways to weigh in without doing the work, from my curriculum:
The same restraint is what keeps an unpaid strategy session from turning into unpaid delivery.
Say what you heard, with your expertise layered on top. I call this diagnosing, and I separate it from repeating back, because anybody can repeat back and only an expert can diagnose.
Her framing for the turn is a question: "Could I share a little bit about what I'm hearing?" Then the shape is outcomes they want, something in the way, what that is costing, what they have already tried and why it did not work, and the real issue underneath it as you see it.
Ending the diagnosis with a question turns a summary into a discovery tool. The client either confirms it, corrects it, or adds the thing they had not said yet, and any of the three is useful.
Being understood is the value here. If a first conversation already feels like this, a client draws their own conclusion about what the work would be like, and you have given away no solution to get there. Describing your services comes after this, and it is its own moment with its own difficulty.
Yes, there is one point in the call to talk more, and it arrives once the diagnosis is done and the client has confirmed it. Talking more is right when you are describing the work and recommending a way forward, because at that point the client has asked for it.
What belongs in that stretch:
That last one is my approach to recommending a solution, and being transparent about what would not serve them is what makes the recommendation credible. Even here, keep checking back: "does that sound like a better fit for what you need?" hands the conversation back before it turns into a monologue. The talking ratio matters less at this stage than whether the client is still in the conversation with you.
The women I work with are not talking too much because they love the sound of their own voice. They are talking too much because talking feels like the only lever they have. When you are not sure a conversation is going well, explaining more feels like the way to fix it.
It does the opposite, and I want to be specific about why. Every minute you fill is a minute the client is not telling you what they need, what it is costing them, or who else has to say yes. That is the information your proposal runs on. Talk through it and you will write the proposal blind.
The reframe that helped me most: you are not auditioning. You are diagnosing. A doctor who spent the appointment describing their training instead of examining you would not seem more competent, and the same thing is true here.
So ask, listen, stick with the question, and when you feel the pull to jump in and solve it, ask one more question instead. The restraint is the expertise. It just does not feel like it in the moment.
No single number survives contact with a real conversation, and chasing one tends to make consultants perform listening rather than do it. A more useful test is whether you learned what the work is worth to the client, who else decides, and what happens if they do nothing. If you can answer those three, the ratio took care of itself.
A quiet client usually needs a better question rather than more of your talking. Ask something open about their situation, then wait longer than feels natural before filling the gap. If the conversation stays one-sided after two real attempts, name it kindly and ask what would be most useful to cover, which hands them the wheel.
Answering directly is fine, and answering completely is where the work leaks out. A short answer followed by a question keeps you responsive without handing over the plan. "The way I'd usually approach that is X. What have you already tried?" answers the question and returns the conversation to discovery.
Slides tend to convert a conversation into a presentation, which puts you back in the talking seat. A first call goes better with nothing between you and a set of questions you trust. Save any material for a later meeting, where a stakeholder who was not in the room needs something concrete to look at.