Looks Can Be Deceiving

When we judge people by what we initially see, we miss out on what could be priceless opportunities.

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When I was young, one of the most interesting, unusual men I ever met was Josh Cohn.  My dad worked for his brother, Al, who owned “The Arcade Men’s Store” and “Poise-N-Ivy” young men’s clothing stores in downtown Fort Smith.  This was the first young men’s clothing store in Arkansas.

Think “The Mod Squad Meets Men’s Warehouse” and you’ve got some idea of this forward-thinking men’s clothing store.

My dad managed the “Poise-N-Ivy” side of the business for many years, and it was there, at the ripe young age of 9, that I was introduced to the world of selling.  I started doing TV commercials, showcasing a kid’s clothing line, in the 4^th grade. With Al Cohn’s blessing, I spent a Saturday afternoon (or two) a month hanging out at the store, shadowing my dad, and learning the ropes of selling men’s clothes. 

The store was known for many of its innovative brands, including Levi jeans (the Original 501s), Hart Shaffner Marx suits, and Nunn Bush dress shoes. I got pretty good at sizing up a man when he walked through the heavy glass doors of the store.  After a few months, I could usually get pretty close at “guessing” a man’s shirt size, pant size, inseam, and coat size. 

Over time, I had my “regulars” – a handful of customers who were kind enough to allow me to help them with their clothing selections.  Mr. Cohn insisted I get “credit” for those sales.  He gave me my own “sales book” and taught me how to record and track my sales.  I learned how to stock shelves, dress a mannequin, design ad layouts for the newspaper, and how to make change the “old school” way.  It was an early introduction to Entrepreneurship 101.

Mr. Cohn talked about his brother, Josh, a lot.  They were close.  Both were successful businessmen.  Mr. Cohn looked the part.  His brother, Josh, didn’t. 

The first time I was introduced to Josh Cohn, he was not at all what I expected.  He was an older man, wearing an old cardigan sweater.  A half-chewed cigar hung from the corner of his mouth as he smiled a mostly toothless smile. 

On his head was a well-worn, sweat-encrusted, wool hat.  His overall appearance was disheveled, and his clothes and his shoes were well-worn.  He drove an old beat-up pickup.  From his outward appearance, Josh Cohn looked like he couldn’t rub two nickels together.

But, looks can be deceiving.

He was what we would refer to today as an eccentric. Josh Cohn owned several commercial buildings on Garrison Avenue and the surrounding parts of downtown Fort Smith, includng the building that housed Fort Smith’s famous “Boston Store.” (Think early “Neiman Marcus” meets London’s historic “Twinings Tea Shop”.)

Josh Cohn was an extremely wealthy man, but his outward appearance masked who he truly was.  I don’t know how wealthy he really was, but he was likely an early candidate for inclusion in Thomas Stanley’s book, “The Millionaire Next Door.”

Looks can be deceiving.

One of the more humorous stories I recall from my youth about Josh Cohn was the night he climbed up on top of the Boston Store Building to attempt to fix an air conditioner unit that wasn’t working.  A Mr. Fix-It by trade, he didn’t want to pay for a repairman unless it was something he couldn’t fix himself.

It was late at night (or early in the morning) and a young policeman noticed a beat-up pickup behind the store, and a ladder leaning up against the building.  The officer scaled the ladder and found a disheveled older man hunched over, working on the AC unit on top of the building. He assumed he had come across a prowler attempting to break into one of Fort Smith’s most iconic buildings.

Remember, looks can be deceiving.

Despite his repeated claims to be the owner of the building, the policeman took him into custody and drove him to the station.  All the way there, Josh Cohn kept insisting he was the rightful owner of that building.  Once they got to the station, Mr. Cohn asked if he could make a phone call to prove who he was.  Permission granted, he called the Chief of Police, a personal friend, and asked him to explain to this officer who he was.

Remember, looks can be deceiving.

The Chief asked that Josh Cohn hand the phone to the young policeman, who (I’m guessing) got an earful from his boss.  He hung up the phone and began apologizing profusely to Mr. Cohn, who simply asked if he could be taken back to the building so he could finish his work.

I often wondered what happened to that young policeman.  I envision him being demoted to a walking beat and writing parking tickets, or some other menial task.

Whether this story actually happened as it was told to me, or if it was embellished a little (or a lot), I don’t know.  But having met Josh Cohn, I could see something like this happening.

Here’s what I remember about Josh Cohn. He was always friendly, had a great sense of humor, and always went out of his way to say “Hello” and talk to me.  But, he always had the look of a disheveled person who didn’t have a dollar to his name.  You expected to see him at the Salvation Army or a local Thrift Store buying hand-me-downs.  Little would you know that he was quite wealthy, but he chose to keep that fact to himself.

I learned a valuable lesson from Josh Cohn.

Looks can be deceiving.

There is often much more to people than we give them credit for.

Initial impressions can be, and often are, incomplete, incorrect, or just plain wrong.

My wife spent some time working for Neiman Marcus.  She said during her sales training, one of the things they stressed repeatedly was this:

“Never judge a person’s pocketbook by the clothes on their back.”

One of the premiere department stores understood that looks can be deceiving.  Some of their best customers were often some of the most eccentric. 

I remember a story shared by a financial advisor who responded to a farmer’s call to talk to someone about estate planning.  He drove out to rural Tennessee, down an endless dirt road, until he came to a one-room house nestled at the base of some rolling hills.  The farmer drove up on an old John Deere tractor wearing bib overalls that had seen better days and no shirt.  He told the farmer who he was and asked if he was in the right place.

The farmer said he was and invited him into the house.

The farmer’s wife served some tea, poured into empty mason jars that doubled as drinking glasses.  The farmer began to explain he had a money problem and needed some help.  He motioned to his wife, who pulled a shoebox from the pantry and laid it on the table. She lifted the lid to reveal a box full of one-hundred-dollar bills.

The farmer then explained that behind the rolling hills where their home sat, an engineering firm had struck oil. Now they had a money problem.  (Think Beverly Hillbillies.)  The farmer’s dad had told him never to trust a bank, as he grew up during the Depression, so they were taking the money in cash and storing it in shoeboxes in their one-room house.

In some 20+ shoeboxes, the man and his wife had more than one million dollars in cash and didn’t know what to do with it.  Long story short, the money went to several banks while the financial advisor and his legal team put together a robust financial and estate plan to take care of the farmer, his wife, his children, and his grandchildren.

Once again, looks can be deceiving.

I hope you see where this lesson is going, as there’s a leadership lesson here to be learned and embraced.

We as a species are quick to judge people by outward appearances.  The way they dress, the vehicle they drive, the type of home they live in, or the type of toys (such as motorcycles, RVs, 4-wheelers, or boats) in their front yard.

Here’s what I can tell you.

Many American families who have all the outward trappings of success are only one paycheck away from the poorhouse.  Why?  They have leveraged their lives to the max trying to put on an appearance of success.  The stress these individuals live under, trying to impress other people, who really don’t matter, takes its toll on their health, wealth, and relationships.

Social Media only amplifies the importance of the outward trappings of success.  Endless reels of people doing amazing things, visiting amazing sites, attending amazing parties, and hanging out with amazing people. For the most part, these are highly curated, highly scripted, highly edited snippets. 

They are NOT how most of these people live real life.

Their lives aren’t better.  They just have a better video editor.

Social media has become a toxic cesspool of negativity.  It’s a highly curated, highly edited series of highlights.  It leads to comparison and contrast, peer pressure to conform, and the threat of being canceled if you don’t do so – or (God forbid) you have an independent thought.

Remember, looks can be deceiving, even on social media.

So, how should a Black Belt Leader respond?

Did you know that every single person alive today is unique?  They are one of a kind. The millions of neural pathways in their brains are as individual as a fingerprint. No one who has ever lived, is currently living, or will ever live in the future, will be just like them.

If that’s the case, and science has proven it is, every one of us is priceless. 

We all have our own unique life experiences.  We each have our own collection of gifts, talents, and abilities that are unlike that of anyone else in the world.  Each of us can do say or do something better than anyone and everyone around us.

That also makes us unique. One of a kind. Priceless.

Black Belt Leaders understand that every single life is valuable, and is worthy of being valued. As a result, they treat other people the way they would want to be treated if the roles were reversed.  They realize that there is something we can learn from every single person.

That happens ONLY if we are open and willing to learn.

But when we judge people by what we see (or believe we see), we miss out on what could be priceless opportunities.

Let me leave you with this…

A young man was recently digging at Crater of Diamonds State Park, Arkansas’ only diamond mine.  37.5 acres of plowed earth where anyone can go and dig for diamonds.  As he dug, he came across what he thought was a piece of quartz, a common stone here in Central Arkansas.  For a moment, he thought about discarding it, but chose not to.

It might not be worth much, he told himself, but it is a pretty piece of rock.

Looks can be deceiving.

He took it to a gemologist who informed him that his worthless piece of rock was a nearly flawless 1.2-carat diamond.

What he saw, based on the outward appearance, was something of little value was worth so much more when he gave it a second look.

Who are we ignoring that we should be embracing who could open up the next door of opportunity for you?  Who are we ignoring that we should be paying attention to, listening to, or learning from, that may have the answer we are searching for to bring an idea into its physical representation in the earth?

Who is that diamond in the rough we need to give a second look? 

My Mom used to tell me, “You don’t judge a book by its cover.”

Let’s stop judging those around us by their cover.  Let’s reserve judgment until we’ve read the book of their lives and discovered the real value inside.

Looks can be deceiving.

Black Belt Leaders choose to look deeper, so they are not deceived.