Most businesses begin by taking whoever turns up.
That is entirely reasonable. When you are small, a paying customer is a wonderful thing, and nobody asks too many questions about the person holding the cheque. But a few years on, the client list has a habit of resembling a lucky dip. Some are delightful. Some are profitable. Occasionally, and it is rare, they are both.
The trouble is that bad-fit clients are rarely obvious at the start. They arrive with a polite email and a “quick favour”. Six months later they are the reason your best person is looking at job ads.
Every client uses the same limited resources: your people’s time, your attention and your goodwill. Each hour spent soothing a difficult customer is an hour not spent on a good one. And difficult customers are often the ones paying the least.
So start with the numbers. Look at revenue, margin and time spent for each client over the last year. Include the unrecorded time: the extra calls, the revisions, the emails that begin “just checking”. You will probably find that a small group of clients produces most of your profit, and a smaller group quietly consumes it.
Then add what the numbers cannot show. Do they pay on time? Do they respect your people? Do they listen to advice or only argue with the invoice? Do they send work that suits what you are actually good at, or something that is slightly outside it, with a deadline attached?
Once you know what a good client looks like, describe them. Write it down. The right size, the right industry, the right kind of problem, the right attitude to paying. It need not be elaborate. It simply gives everyone in the business something to measure the next enquiry against.
You can then use it before the work begins. Ask questions during the sales conversation. Notice how they talk about their last supplier. If every previous provider was “useless”, consider the possibility that the common factor is not the suppliers.
Pricing helps, too. A premium price tends to attract clients who value the work, and discourage those who treat it as a commodity. Poor-fit clients often leave on their own once the price reflects the effort they require.
Sometimes you will need to end a relationship. Do it kindly and sensibly. Give notice, finish the work properly and perhaps suggest somebody who may suit them better. It is not an act of aggression. It is housekeeping.
This can feel risky when a client represents ten per cent of turnover. But replacing a poor client with a good one is far easier once you have the capacity to look for one.
A strong business is not simply one with many clients. It is one with the right ones.
The wrong client pays your invoice, eventually.
The right one makes the work enjoyable too.