vendor contracts need negotiagting instincts
About this lesson
“I’m uneasy about this most trendy and oversold community. Visionaries see a future of telecommuting workers, interactive libraries, and multimedia classrooms. They speak of electronic town meetings and virtual communities. Commerce and business will shift from offices and malls to networks and modems. And the freedom of digital networks will make government more democratic. Baloney. Do our computer pundits lack all common sense? … What’s missing from this electronic wonderland? Human contact. Discount the fawning techno-burble about virtual communities. Computers and networks isolate us from one another. A network chat line is a limp substitute for meeting friends over coffee.” – Newsweek
Negotiation: Calm, Clear, and Slightly Boring (Which Is Good)
Negotiating contracts with vendors may be entirely new territory for you.
And here is the reality:
In a virtual company, there is no procurement department.
There is no legal team down the hall.
There is no senior VP to escalate to.
You are it.
You are Chief Negotiator.
You are Head of Legal.
You are also Head of Common Sense.
That can feel intimidating.
I meet many capable, intelligent people who have an almost instinctive fear of negotiation. The word alone makes them tense up. They picture aggressive boardrooms, hard stares, strategic silence, and someone dramatically pushing back from the table saying, “That’s my final offer.”
Relax.
One major reason negotiation feels scary is because an entire industry exists to make it look complicated. There are seminars, certifications, masterclasses, battle tactics, psychological frameworks, anchoring strategies, concession choreography…
You would think you were preparing for diplomatic talks between rival nations.
Much of that framing presents negotiation as combat.
Two sides circling each other.
Out-maneuvering.
Extracting advantage.
Winning.
And yes — sometimes it becomes that.
But only when ego enters the room.
When negotiation turns into a battle, it is usually because someone has confused business with personal validation.
Healthy negotiation is not warfare.
It is alignment.
It is two adults trying to structure an agreement that makes economic sense for both sides.
That is all.
If you remove ego, most negotiations become surprisingly straightforward.
You are not trying to “get one over” on the vendor.
You are trying to build a working relationship that protects your cash-flow, supports your growth, and makes them want to continue working with you.
That is not war.
That is collaboration with boundaries.
And once you see it that way, the fear disappears — and negotiation becomes what it should be:
Calm.
Clear.
Professional.
And ideally, slightly boring.

The secret, however, is not getting the best contract terms.
It is getting the best vendor.
Once you understand that, the pressure evaporates.
If you obsess over squeezing every last concession out of a vendor, you may “win” the negotiation — and lose the relationship.
At the start, your objective is not perfection.
It is partnership.
So what if you pay slightly more than the theoretical minimum? One day, when your company is larger and your leverage stronger, you can hire professional negotiators to shave basis points off contracts.
Right now?
Focus on securing the right people.
That shift alone removes enormous stress.
In my previous corporate life, I attended more negotiation skills classes than I can count. The classroom exercises were entertaining. It sometimes felt like being dropped into an Indiana Jones scene — dodging traps laid by the instructor, spotting hidden leverage, emerging triumphantly with the treasure.
The classroom is safe.
You can make mistakes.
You can experiment.
You can fail spectacularly without destroying an actual business relationship.
If you have never negotiated before, I do recommend taking a basic course. Your local small business development center can usually point you toward one. Not because negotiation is complicated — but because familiarity breeds confidence.
And confidence is half the battle.
Unless you plan on negotiating hostage releases in a geopolitical conflict, most business negotiations are remarkably simple.
In fact — they can even be fun.
Interestingly, the best negotiators I have ever worked with were often the least confident at the outset. They listened more. They prepared more. They did not rely on bravado.
When I first entered sales, I could not have sold a rope to someone actively sinking in the ocean.
I learned about buying signals, personality profiling, psychological tactics — and eventually realized that much of it was overcomplicated theatre.
Ten years later, I found myself teaching negotiation classes.
My primary contribution?
Demystifying the entire process.
Strip away the drama. Remove the ego. Focus on outcomes.
It is not unlike what we are doing here.
In my classes, I used a simulation.
Participants were divided into two planetary negotiating committees.
One planet had abundant cheap labor — but no food or water.
The other had abundant food and water — but no labor to operate its oxygen machines.
Interdependence.
The scenario began with a labor strike on the first planet demanding more food. The second planet, facing oxygen shortages, threatened nuclear retaliation if the strike continued.
Each side had five nuclear weapons. Each weapon could destroy twenty percent of the other side’s survival capacity.
Yes, we kept it light.
The first negotiation round was always cordial. Polite. Reasonable. No one took it too seriously.
Complete impasse.
Back in their respective groups, mild irritation surfaced.
Round two introduced tension. Spokespeople began to interpret stubbornness as personal offense.
Round three? Emotions escalated. The game stopped feeling like a game.
At that point, I would quietly inform one team that the other side had launched a missile during the break — wiping out twenty percent of their resources.
And then?
Chaos.
Anger. Accusations. Escalation.
Very quickly, rational adults lost perspective and turned a simulation into something deeply personal.
Sound familiar?
That is precisely what happens in real-world negotiations when ego overrides logic — particularly when attorneys enter the scene and begin treating minor clauses like existential threats.
People stop negotiating terms.
They start defending pride.
And once pride enters, resolution exits.
The lesson was always the same:
It was never about food, labor, or nuclear weapons.
It was about emotional control.
In business negotiations, if you keep your emotions steady and your objectives clear, you will already be operating at a higher level than most people in the room.

The point I was always trying to make in those classes was simple:
The moment common sense is replaced by ego, negotiations collapse.
It stops being about doing the right thing.
It becomes about winning.
And winning the wrong way can be fatal.
In one particularly memorable session, both planets were theoretically wiped out. The spokespeople had scored beautifully in the rounds. They had extracted concessions. They had outmaneuvered their opponents. They had “won” the exchanges.
And yet… everyone was technically dead.
What was the point of winning tiny tactical victories while losing the planet?
That is business in a nutshell.
Successful negotiation is not confrontation.
It is alignment.
It is what happens when reasonableness and common sense are allowed to lead.
In my real-world experience, most negotiations are straightforward — provided no one feels the need to dominate the room.
When you are small, attracting the right vendor matters far more than shaving fees.
When you are a multi-million-dollar enterprise, you can negotiate from strength.
In the beginning?
You negotiate from aspiration.
Does it really matter whether one firm charges $5,000 a month and another charges $7,000?
Today, that difference may feel enormous.
But imagine two years from now, when your company is scaling and the cheaper vendor is generating quality problems, delays, or reputational damage.
How expensive will that “saving” feel then?
The cheapest option is often the most expensive mistake.
While writing this chapter, I was invited for coffee by three enthusiastic entrepreneurs. They had developed an exciting invention. I was impressed.
They asked if I would advise them, as a large company had expressed interest in funding their start-up.
A week later, the big company offered $2 million for 30% equity — in exchange for a small number of prototypes they could showcase to additional investors.
The prototypes already existed.
It was a gift.
My advice was simple:
Take the deal.
Sign it quickly.
Do not get lost in microscopic contract edits.
You cannot see the unknown variables inside another company. Staff change. Executives move. Strategies shift.
Speed matters.
Instead, the trio decided to demonstrate their sophistication by negotiating every clause.
Weeks passed.
The contract was finally agreed.
Then — just before signing — the large company changed CEOs.
The new CEO froze all pending deals.
The investment vanished.
They could have been capitalized and thriving.
Instead, they ran out of cash.
Not because the deal was bad.
Because ego delayed it.
Another example.
A struggling company I knew received an unsolicited offer of $1 million to license dormant patents.
The offer came from a corporate giant.
The CEO of the small company saw an opportunity to negotiate.
He countered at $5 million.
The giant never responded.
Soon after, the smaller company collapsed.
Later, the business development manager at the larger company explained something revealing:
He always had multiple deals in motion. He prioritized the ones with the least friction. If someone signaled they would be difficult, he moved on.
A million-dollar licensing deal was insignificant in his world.
It was not worth the effort.
Resistance cost the smaller company everything.
The lesson?
When you are starting out and a solid deal appears — take it.
Do not confuse stubbornness with strength.
Do not confuse delay with sophistication.
The goal is not to extract maximum theoretical value from your first deal.
The goal is survival.
The goal is momentum.
The goal is to still be in the game when the next — and better — deal comes along.
You can only negotiate from strength if you are still standing.
So take the good deal.
Build the company.
And live to negotiate another day.
There was an investor I once worked with — appropriately named Dick.
He was what I call a pathological negotiator.
Brilliant. Skilled. Tactical.
And utterly exhausting.
He could not resist negotiating every crossed “t” and dotted “i.” No clause was too small. No wording too insignificant. He was addicted to extracting micro-wins.
It wasn’t about economics.
It was about control.
His compulsion to “win” every point cost us opportunities. Vendors quietly stopped returning calls. Potential partners chose easier paths.
I tried to explain that small companies cannot afford to waste energy on lawyerly word gymnastics. He interpreted that as weakness in my leadership.
He already had a reputation for being difficult. During the period I knew him, he strengthened it considerably.
He would have been the star student in any negotiation seminar.
In real life?
His ego led his brain.
And when ego leads, strategy suffers.
Once you understand someone’s psychological need to win, you can use it.
If someone must feel victorious, you simply decide in advance what “victory” will cost you — and structure accordingly.
I once negotiated directly with him on a deal.
I would have been perfectly satisfied at a valuation of 40. If he had been reasonable, we could have agreed on something around that over dinner and both walked away happy.
But I knew him.
He could not complete a deal without battle.
So, through a third party — whom he believed was feeding him intelligence — I let it be known I would be satisfied at 50.
I publicly started at 60.
Over several theatrical weeks, he “wore me down” to 50.
He felt triumphant.
He had negotiated me down ten points.
What he didn’t know was that I would have gladly settled lower.
His need to conquer cost him millions.
Yes — actual millions.
We closed the deal.
I took my gain.
And I never chose to work with him again.
Because even profitable combat is still combat.
And there are easier ways to build wealth.
So what are the real rules?
Strip away the theatre and there are only two you truly need.
Rule One: He Who Mentions Price First Loses.
Always.
The first number introduced becomes the anchor. And the purpose of negotiation — even friendly negotiation — is to move from that anchor.
If you speak first, you limit your upside and expose your psychology.
Let the other side go first.
Even if their number shocks you.
Especially if it shocks you.
Silence is a powerful negotiator.
Rule Two: When You Are Small, Don’t Get Greedy.
This rule is critical.
Early-stage entrepreneurs often sabotage themselves by trying to extract maximum value from every opportunity.
But the early game is about survival and momentum — not optimization.
A fair deal today is worth more than a perfect deal that never closes.
Remember:
You need vendors.
You need partners.
You need investors.
You need reputation.
If you develop a reputation for being combative, inflexible, or exhausting, word spreads quietly.
And doors close quietly.
Negotiation is not about domination.
It is about durability.
When you are small, prioritize relationships over marginal gains.
Take good deals.
Build trust.
Grow.
Then, when you are operating from strength, you can refine terms with confidence.
Until then?
Stay calm.
Stay reasonable.
And resist the temptation to win at all costs.
Because sometimes winning costs far more than losing.
George Rathmann (built Amgen and ICOS) used to drill into his staff “when you are a small company and get offered a fair deal take it; the secret is to survive to one day be powerful enough to negotiate.” I think it sound advice and have come across many entrepreneurs who regret not doing that. Just last week I met someone still treading the boards when a few years ago he was offered $20 million to sell his shares. He thought the share price would go up.
It didn’t. He is a bitter man now.
Resources
When we start out we have to ‘act’ the part. Here is a trailer for an interview I did with famous actor, James Cosmo. (Braveheart)

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