It’s a perfectly reasonable question.
We’ve just spent considerable time reviewing a prospective client’s advertising accounts, examining performance, identifying structural weaknesses, and explaining where we believe opportunities exist.
Naturally, they’d like a copy of our findings.
Sometimes the question comes at the end of the meeting.
Sometimes it comes at the beginning.
And occasionally, it comes at the beginning, again halfway through our presentation, and once more before we sign off.
By the third request, my Spidey senses are usually tingling.
Because I’ve seen this movie before.
The Prospect Who Came Back for Seconds
Years ago, we conducted a detailed assessment for a prospective client.
We examined their acquisition program, identified structural problems, and walked them through the changes we believed could materially improve performance.
They seemed genuinely interested.
We shared a summary of our findings.
And then they disappeared.
No engagement. No follow-up. Nothing.
It happens. Over the years, I’ve learned not to take it personally.
But this particular prospect had an interesting second act.
Approximately eleven months later, they resurfaced.
They wanted to know whether we’d be willing to perform another assessment of their account.
I have to admit, I was curious.
Had they implemented our recommendations? Had those recommendations actually improved their results?
So we took another look.
And sure enough, they’d made the structural changes we’d suggested.
Performance had improved significantly.
They’d essentially taken our original strategy, implemented it themselves, and run with it until the improvements had reached their limits.
Now they were back for version 2.0.
You have to admire the audacity.
We politely declined.
We explained that they’d successfully implemented our earlier recommendations and that, based on what we could see, there wasn’t a compelling opportunity for additional improvement.
We wished them continued success.
And I’ve been laughing about that one ever since.
But beneath the humor was an important lesson.
Our diagnosis had been valuable. We just hadn’t been the ones paid to implement it.
The Uncomfortable Question
If you’ve spent enough time in the agency business, you’ve probably experienced some version of this.
You invest hours understanding a prospective client’s business.
Your team examines the account, challenges assumptions, identifies problems, and develops a point of view about what needs to change.
Then you share your findings.
And somewhere in the back of your mind, a question starts forming.
Are we about to hand our playbook to someone else?
Maybe the prospect is genuinely evaluating whether you’re the right partner.
Maybe they’re collecting opinions from several agencies.
Or maybe they’re planning to hand your recommendations to the friend of a friend who’s been managing the account all along.
I’ve seen all three.
And I won’t pretend the third possibility doesn’t bother me.
There is a real cost to doing this work. The time, experience, and judgment involved aren’t free simply because the assessment is offered without charge.
But I’ve come to believe that worrying too much about protecting every insight creates a different problem.
You start treating your expertise like something that needs to be hidden.
And that’s a difficult foundation on which to build trust.
Diagnosis Is Not Implementation
At Voltage, we’ve increasingly organized our discovery process around what we call a Growth Readiness Assessment.
Before recommending a strategy, we want to understand the business.
Not just its advertising accounts.
Its economics. Its constraints. Its ability to absorb additional demand. The quality of its measurement. And whether the opportunities we identify are commercially meaningful.
Sometimes the answer is encouraging.
Sometimes it isn’t.
In fact, I had two conversations recently that illustrated the difference perfectly.
The first was with a company developing an interesting product for a highly specialized market.
The technology was compelling. The people were thoughtful. But the addressable market was narrow, and external economic pressures were limiting their ability to expand profitably.
More advertising wasn’t going to solve those problems.
We had a good conversation, agreed there wasn’t an obvious fit, and parted on friendly terms.
A few hours later, I spoke with another prospective client.
We’d completed our assessment, reviewed the findings together, and identified opportunities we believed warranted further exploration.
This time, the prospect wanted to move forward.
Two very different outcomes.
The same process.
The objective wasn’t to sell a marketing program. It was to determine whether one made sense.
And that distinction matters.
Because recognizing a problem isn’t the same as knowing how to solve it.
Identifying weaknesses in an acquisition program doesn’t mean you’ve established the right priorities.
Recognizing a measurement issue doesn’t mean you’ve built a trustworthy system for making investment decisions.
And spotting an opportunity for growth doesn’t mean the business has the economics, resources, or operational capacity to pursue it successfully.
Those are separate challenges.
The diagnosis informs the work. It doesn’t replace it.
What Should We Actually Give Away?
That brings me back to the question.
“Can you send me a copy of that?”
Today, our team prepares two versions of our assessment.
The first is detailed and intended for internal use. It contains the deeper analysis, structural observations, and working recommendations that inform our thinking.
That’s the version we use to guide our discussions.
The second is a more concise, client-facing summary.
It communicates what we found, why those findings matter, and where we believe the most meaningful opportunities or constraints exist.
It gives the prospective client something substantive to consider.
But it isn’t an instruction manual for rebuilding their acquisition program.
That distinction has become increasingly important to me.
You can protect your work without being afraid to share your thinking.
And if a prospective client takes that summary, hands it to someone else, and decides not to engage us?
Well, that’s their decision.
Sometimes they’ll succeed.
Sometimes they won’t.
And occasionally, eleven months later, they’ll come back looking for another helping.
What Are We Really Selling?
Here’s the question I think every agency should ask itself.
If someone can take a document you’ve prepared, hand it to another provider, and achieve everything you would have achieved, where does your value actually reside?
That’s not an entirely comfortable question.
But it’s a necessary one.
I don’t believe our value lies solely in identifying what’s wrong with an advertising account.
It lies in the experience required to distinguish symptoms from causes.
In understanding which constraints matter and which are distractions.
In knowing what to prioritize, what to leave alone, when to invest, and when to stop.
And perhaps most importantly, in accepting responsibility for the decisions and execution that follow.
A written assessment can communicate what we believe. It can’t transfer twenty years of judgment to the person reading it.
Nor can it guarantee that the right decisions will be made when conditions inevitably change.
That’s where the real work begins.
Choosing the Right Partners
Over the years, I’ve also come to appreciate that this process helps qualify prospective clients just as much as it helps them evaluate us.
Some businesses are primarily looking for ideas.
Others are looking for the lowest-cost way to execute a predetermined plan.
And some are looking for a genuine partner who can help them make better decisions about growth.
There’s nothing inherently wrong with those different objectives.
But they’re not interchangeable.
We’re not going to be the right partner for everyone.
And increasingly, I’m comfortable with that.
If a prospective client sees value in our assessment but chooses another direction, I hope the work helps them.
If they recognize that the diagnosis is only the beginning, perhaps there’s an opportunity to build something meaningful together.
Either outcome is better than manufacturing a proposal for a business we don’t believe we can help.
The Right to Deliver the Cure
So I’ve stopped worrying quite so much about the inevitable request for a copy of our findings.
We still exercise judgment about what we share.
We still protect the detailed work our team has developed.
And yes, after twenty-plus years, my Spidey senses are alive and well.
But I don’t want fear of someone borrowing our ideas to determine how we engage with prospective clients.
I’d rather demonstrate that we understand their business.
I’d rather give them something genuinely useful.
And I’d rather have the confidence to walk away when the opportunity isn’t right.
Because the objective of a good diagnosis isn’t simply to win the account.
It’s to establish whether there’s a problem worth solving, whether we’re equipped to solve it, and whether both parties are prepared to do the work.
Mark R Brown
Founder, Voltage Media
The Lighthouse Research Papers are published by Voltage Media, exploring the decisions, constraints, and realities of customer acquisition through more than two decades of experience.