How not to regret buying anything (including consulting)

I’ve bought a lot of things in my life. Computers, cars, houses, smartphones, snowblowers, refrigerators, socks. I’ve got 50+ years of experience in buying things.

The most important question is not the price. It’s not the features. It’s not the reviews.

The things you purchase look great when they’re nice and shiny in the store, but after hard experience, you learn to ask a few tedious questions that are far less entertaining than “Does it work with Android?” These questions include:

• Does this need regular maintenance?
• Am I likely to actually do that maintenance?
• When this breaks, can I get it fixed?
• Who can fix it?
• How expensive is it to fix?
• Is there some sort of subscription that I’ll need to get to get the most use out of it?
• Does it require accessories to be useful? Like, say, ink cartridges?
• Is it sharing my personal information with the world?
• Is it going to be become obsolete, and if so, when?
• When I need to get a new one, how expensive and disruptive is that likely to be?
• If I get sick of it, will it cause major problems if I stop using it?
• When it’s time to get rid of it, how hard is it to dispose of?

Now ask the same questions about your service partners

I’m a freelancer. I want you to hire me. I want you to be happy with my service and tell others that I’m good. But make no mistake: I want you to be so in love with me that you can’t live without me, because that makes my income more dependable. And I’m one of the ethical ones. Lots of freelancers don’t just want you to love them, they want you to be unable to stop working with them. They want to lock you in.

It’s always more fun to sign up for what looks like a wonderful service than to think about what might go wrong along the way. But just as you shouldn’t get blinded by shiny and expensive new toys, you shouldn’t ignore the challenges that happen in a relationship with a service provider.

So the next time you sign up for a service, whether it’s a dentist, a graphic designer, a software developer, or a ghostwriter, ask a few questions:

• Can I try this out cheaply before I become committed to it and dependent on it?
• How much is this relationship going to cost me in the long run?
• Are there any other costs I’ll be on the hook for, such as software subscriptions?
• Are there any costs that “automatically” renew, generating bills I will have forgotten I’m on the hook for?
• Who owns the intellectual property you are creating for me? Can you put that in writing?
• Who owns the liability if what you make for me creates a problem?
• Have you documented your work so that I can build on it without you? If so, where is that documentation?
• Will you become difficult to get ahold of later in the relationship as you concentrate on the needs of other, newer clients?
• How easy is it to get out of this relationship?
• Will you continue to keep my secrets after the relationship is over?

My goal as a freelancer is to ensure that you don’t need to worry about these things. But that’s just me. Lots of freelancers care less about that and more about ensuring their revenue streams. I know — because I hire freelancers, too.

I don’t have 50+ years hiring professional services as I do with actual physical products. But I try behave as if I had the wisdom that comes with that kind of experience.

And now that you’ve read this, you can, too.