Skip to main content
Field Notesgrowth-team-of-onegtmgrowthplaysapprove-modeaudit-log

The Work That Runs Without You

By hand, a trial that went quiet on Tuesday heard from me nine days later, or not. A rule drafts the check-in at ten past ten. This part sorts the small customer work onto three rungs by what one wrong run would cost, and writes the rule in four fields. Part 3 of 4 of The Growth Team of One.

Hero image in the light register: the same one-person org chart as parts 1 and 2, on warm paper, now in its delegate state. A top box labelled Head of Growth connects to six role boxes: Demand, Lifecycle, Sales assist, Ops and data, Reporting, and Tools. Demand and Ops and data still read YOU. Lifecycle and Sales assist carry a small teal chip reading RULE in place of YOU. Reporting and Tools are dimmed and struck through with a red line, as they were in part 2. A strip beneath the chart shows the four operations of the series, with 01 Inventory and 02 Subtract marked done, 03 Delegate lit in purple, and 04 Hand off dim. To the upper right, a white card holds one rule in four mono lines: when, a trial goes quiet 3 days; do, send the check-in; from, the account owner; write it down, always; with a purple stamp across it reading Runs after my yes. Title: The Work That Runs Without You. The Growth Team of One, part 3 of 4. Byline: Brad Webb, Chief Growth Officer, Civic.
tl;dr

By hand, a trial that went quiet on Tuesday heard from me nine days later, or not. A rule drafts the check-in at ten past ten. This part sorts the small customer work onto three rungs by what one wrong run would cost, and writes the rule in four fields. Part 3 of 4 of The Growth Team of One.

This is part 3 of 4 of The Growth Team of One. Part 1, The Job Nobody Wrote Down, wrote the job down. Part 2, The Work You Stop Doing, decided what to stop and circled what never stops. This part hands the circled lines to a rule. Part 4, The Stack You Hand Over, is next Thursday.

Part 2 ended on the short list of work that never stops: the things a customer would notice by lunch if they slipped. Five lines landed on mine. The follow-up when a trial starts. The reply to the inbound form. The note when a known account comes back to pricing. Finding out that an integration broke. The case study sales asked for. Each one is small, triggered, and unasked for, and each one is the first thing a customer feels when it slips.

Here's the part I'd rather skip. I kept doing all five by hand for about a month after I knew a rule should be doing them. I'd written the sentence myself, more than once: hand the small customer-triggered lines to a rule. Then I went back to sending the trial note from my own inbox at whatever hour I noticed the trial, which was sometimes Thursday.

The reason, when I finally said it out loud, was that I'd been asking the wrong question. I was asking whether I trusted it. That question has no answer, because trust is a feeling about the future, and you can argue with yourself about the future for as long as you like. The question with an answer is smaller. If this ran wrong once, who would notice, and what would it cost? That's a question about one line and one bad morning, and you can answer it in a breath.

A rule has no calendar

I'll say what a rule is first, in plain words, because the word arrives with baggage.

A rule you set once: when this happens, do that. Bryn, the GTM Agent we make at Civic, calls that a Play, and I'll use the plain word for the rest of this piece. The "when" is a signal: something a buyer just did, like coming back to your pricing page, or starting a trial and going quiet. The "do that" is the small response you were doing by hand. A rule has four parts: when this happens, do this, from this owner, and write down that it ran.

Here's what makes it different from you, and it isn't that it's faster. A rule has no calendar. It has no slot to protect on Thursday, because it doesn't need a slot. It has no bad week, because it doesn't have weeks. It doesn't notice the trial at four o'clock because that's when you had a gap. It notices at the minute the trial goes quiet, and the minute is the whole point. These small customer lines are worth the most at the moment they fire and lose value by the hour, and the one thing a person can't do is be free at an arbitrary minute. A rule is free at every minute. That's the entire argument for it.

Now the limit, stated as plainly. A rule can't judge. It can't tell that this trial is the founder's old colleague and wants a call, not a note. It can't tell that this account is halfway through a renewal argument and the pricing visit means something else. It does what you wrote, every time, including the time you wouldn't have. That isn't a flaw to fix. It's the reason the next question matters.

Three rungs, by what goes wrong

Take each line on that never-stop list, the work a customer would notice by lunch, and ask: if this ran wrong once, who would notice, and what would it cost? The answer lands on one of three rungs.

It runs on its own. Wrong once costs nothing a customer sees. The rule tags the account, writes the note in the deal channel (the Slack channel where the account lives), opens the task. If it misfires, you delete a task. Noticing that a known account came back to pricing is this kind of line: the noticing is internal. So is finding out that an integration broke, because a false alarm in your own channel costs you a glance.

It runs after my yes. Wrong once is an awkward message to a real person. The check-in to a trial that went quiet. The reply to the form. The case study that goes to a buyer. The cost of a miss is an email you wish you'd read first, so you read it first. Bryn drafts the step and waits for your yes. That's Approve mode, and it's where almost everything on that list starts and where a good deal of it should stay.

It stays mine. Wrong once is a lost deal or a price. The call about whether to chase the deal that went quiet. The number you quote when it isn't on the list. The conversation with the customer who's about to leave. Nothing on my never-stop list landed here, and that's not an accident. Back in part 1, when I wrote the whole job down, the judgment lines were tagged "only you", and they never reached this list, because they aren't small and they aren't triggered. If one of your five lands here, look again. Most lines that seem to belong on this rung are two lines stapled together: the part that notices, which can run, and the part that answers, which can't. Chris, our CEO, made a related point yesterday about buyers whose research is done before a person ever shows up to verify it. The verifying is the judgment line, and it's yours.

Notice what sets the rung. Not how much I trust software. Not how clever the rule is. What a single wrong run would cost, and who would pay it. The same line can sit on a different rung at a different company, and that's correct.

Where each line can reach.

The five lines a customer would notice by lunch. For each, answer what one wrong run would cost. The line moves to the rung that answer points at.

Runs on its ownif it ran wrong once: nobody noticesRuns after my yesif it ran wrong once: a customer gets an awkward messageStays mineif it ran wrong once: a customer loses something real
  • Notice when a known account comes back to pricing (Sales assist)
  • Find out when an integration breaks (Tools)
  • Follow up when a trial starts (Lifecycle)
  • Triage form fills and the inbound inbox (Sales assist)
  • Send the case study sales asked for (Sales assist)

The default placement is illustrative, one possible read. Yours will differ.

Figure 1. The five lines a customer would notice by lunch. For each, answer what one wrong run would cost, and the line lands on its rung. Illustrative defaults; your read will differ.
BRYNbyCivic Running now

What would this essay do if it could act? It just did.

Essay, alone

Someone reads it. Maybe they fit your ICP. The minute passes and nobody downstream ever knows.

Your chance to reach your engaged, identified prospect: Gone

Every run lands on the record.

Writing the rule

A rule is four fields, and if you can't fill all four it isn't a rule yet.

BRIEFS ⬩ PUBLIC PREVIEW

Next: a Brief on your own site.

Bryn reads your site and works out which companies are already looking at you, and whether they're worth your time. Then it writes up the first follow-up it would run, in your own colors, inside a minute. It takes a few minutes to read. Then pass it to whoever signs off.