MEMOIRS OF A LIFE INSURANCE AGENT
“Mr. Prospect, you say you can’t afford to pay the premium for this life insurance policy. Fortunately or unfortunately someone always pays a premium. If you don’t pay this modest premium now, your family may have to pay it by not having what they require in the event, God forbid, of your untimely passing. Little Timmy won’t be able to have that little red wagon he wants. Your darling princess, Tiffany, may not be able to go to her friend’s birthday party because your wife will not be able to afford a pink party dress. And think of your wife Molly. I have a friend who did not believe in life insurance, and one night coming from work he was killed by a city bus. His widow now works making beds at the local Holiday Inn. Don’t you agree that it would be best for you to purchase this policy now, so you can protect the future of your family? Do you want to pay the premium annually, or would the monthly check plan work better for you?”
In 1945, hundreds of thousands American men returned from World War II to fall into the arms of hundreds of thousands of woman and begin the creation of the American Utopia of the fifties and sixties. The GI Bill provided a college education that translated into better jobs, more money, and more buying power. The American Dream was within reach of the “common man”: wife, children, a home and all that went with it.
There were things to buy: vacuum cleaners, dishwashers, furniture, automobiles, pink party dresses and little red wagons. And as a result of all of this acquisition came a vast cadre of highly motivated life insurance salesmen (women need not have applied) whose sole purpose was to guarantee the hard-working husband that hiswife Molly and the babies would be able to stay in their own world should he, Godforbid, meet with an untimely demise. This marketing miracle lasted for three glorious decades.
JOINING THE RANKS
In the spring of 1956, just out of college, I entered this rapidly growing industry as a sales management trainee in a Seattle insurance agency. Prior to my employment I, like all perspective agents, was required to take a series of tests that were designed to determine if I had the aptitude for life insurance sales. The primary test, which may still be in use today, was especially useful to the company because it established, with some degree of accuracy, if the candidate was a Type A, upwardly mobile, aggressive, extroverted overachieving workaholic. I recall one question that query, “Would you rather make a sales call in the evening or learn to play the bagpipes?” In my 43-year career in the business I never met a Life Insurance Agent who played the bagpipes.
If the companies were looking for that upwardly mobile workaholic, they got the right guy in me. I was the perfect candidate. After a four-year stint in the Navy, I married the girl of my dreams and entered college. By the time I graduated, we had the first two of our three children, and our financial goal was to ultimately earn an annual income of $10,000. We eagerly entered into that greatest of all American endeavors-granted every citizen by the Bill of Rights-The Pursuit of Happiness.
The prospective agent came from all walks of life: former schoolteachers, bankers, recent college graduates, discharged military personal, the disappointed and discouraged. They came for the promise of a brighter future, a better tomorrow, and those who succeeded were rewarded with a financial success that was rarely possible in any other endeavor.
The company I joined had one of the finest training programs in the country. In my first month I was sent back to Hartford for an extended period of study. All new agents had to learn the intricacies of the life insurance contract, a scripted sales talk, how to use the telephone to arrange appointments and a lot of time was spent teaching us how to close a sale - in other words, how to get the prospect to sign on the line that was dotted.
CHOICE, ALWAYS CHOICE
At the risk of giving away sales secrets, the opening paragraph contains several “tricks of the trade.” To begin with we were taught to repeat the prospect’s objections: “Mr. Prospect, you say you can’t afford to pay the premium for this lifeinsurance policy.” By doing this I, the salesman, affirm that I have heard and empathize with his problem. This is followed by a motivational picture of the possible loss of Timmy’s little red wagon and Tiffany’s pink party dress if he does not accept the modest premium payment.
Then a motivationalstory of the unbeliever’s wife who ends up making beds at the local Holiday Inn. This closingstatement is concluded by assuming his agreement and finally, not asking for the sale, but giving him a choice of premium payments. All this may sound devious to the uninitiated, but it is simply good salesmanship. The basic premise of intelligent marketing was not to sell the product, but rather, help the prospect buy.
We never used the terms save or savings. In the 30’s and 40’s, half of America opened a Christmas Club savings account in January and cashed it in by June. People hated the fact that they failed when it came to saving money, but they loved the idea of accumulating money. “Mr. Prospect, the cash value account of this policy willaccumulate to $6000.00 by the time little Timmy is ready for college.” We never asked the prospect for his signature (too legal), rather “just write your name here.” If the annual premium was $1,380.00, we did not refer to it as one thousand three hundredand eighty dollars(too expensive) rather, thirteen eighty. And choice, always choice: “do you want to take your insurance physical on Tuesday, or would Wednesday afternoon work better for you?”
MANY WERE CALLED BUT FEW WERE CHOSEN
The turnover rate of new agents was extremely high throughout the industry. Some of the companies were fairly selective but several used the mud on the wall method. If the recruit passed the aptitude test he was given a rate book and a rabbit’s foot and sent forth to get names on the dotted line. If he did not show promise within a few months he was sent packing.
The new agent had to be a self-starter. He had to develop a technique that would allow him to have someplace to go and someone to see. To this day I still have a recurring nightmare that I am behind in my sales quota and have run out of prospects.
For those who did succeed, the rewards were exceptional, both financially and occupationally. Essentially, the agent’s compensation was straight commissions. However, unlike most sales persons who were paid only once when the sale was made, the life insurance agent received a substantial payment based on the first year premium – usually around 50% to 60%-but he also received a renewal commission each time a premium was paid in subsequent years – usually about 10% for the next nine years and sometimes 2% beyond the 10th year for as long as he controlled the business. A smart agent could reach the point where he could live very comfortably off his first-year commissions and bank the renewals.
Another outstanding benefit for the successful agent was total independence. While there were some restrictions on loyalty to his primary company the agent was a true entrepreneur. He was his own man. In addition, the company provided excellent medical and dental benefits for him and his family, along with a generous pension program. Office space, phone, and secretarial services were usually made available by the local agency.
Another advantage for the agent was the nature of the product – it was totally intangible. Except for a thorough knowledge of the legal provisions of the contract, there was no inventory. There were servicing requirements such as beneficiary changes and premium adjustments, but a good secretary could handle most of these details. The agent could devote his time to the primary tasks of prospecting and selling.
THINK JUNE CLEAVER
If there was one absolutely indispensable requirement for the agent it was a genuine, passionate belief in the primary purpose of his calling – to provide the necessary income for Molly and the babies in the event, God forbid, the husband should meet an untimely demise. In the 40’s and 50’s, it was assumed that Molly could not take care of herself.
She was after all, only a housewife and mother, and the prevailing male attitude was, “no wife of mine is going to work.” The picture the agent was given of Molly-think June Cleaver-was that she was a loving, demure, stay-at-home wife and mother who would be totally helpless in the world on her own.
Many insurance home offices exploited this attitude regarding Molly’s helplessness. In the event of a death benefit payment, it was very much to the company’s advantage to keep the corpus of the policy in their own coffers and pay it out in installments to Molly. Agents were trained to convince the prospect to initiate a Settlement Option Agreementthat virtually allowed him, the husband, to portion out the insurance payments from beyond the grave – “after all, Mr. Prospect, we can’t burden Molly with large sums of money without some help and guidance.” What was not anticipated was the threat of inflation, which radically diminished the widow’s buying power.
I recall one incident that dramatically illustrated this terrible practice. In the mid- 60’s, one widow, who suffered from such a settlement, called the company’s home office and begged them to allow her to increase the monthly payment so that she could support herself and children. She was told that nothing could be done, since this was the result of a contractual agreement her husband had entered into at the time he purchased the policy.
After repeated calls, in desperation, the widow boarded a train with her three small children and set out for the home office in Hartford. Upon arrival, she insisted on seeing no one except the president of the company. Initially she was refused, but after hours of sitting in the lobby with her children, she was granted an audience with the president and successfully pleaded her case. I am certain there were many suffering widows who were not so aggressive and resourceful.
“I HAVE BEEN BLESSED”
To make certain the agent maintained a high level of belief the companies and the industry provided constant motivation in many types of sales meetings. My first experience in this form of emotional fortification was a SalesCongress held in 1956. The program included several highly successful agents. Most included humor in their comments, but the final speaker opened his remarks by telling the audience, in a thick southern drawl, he had no place for jokes when it came to the subject of life insurance.
“I have been blessed with the most beautiful wife in the world”, he began, and “God has been good to me. I have three beautiful children; God has been good to me. I work for the best insurance company in America; God has been good to me. I work in the greatest industry in the world; God has been good to me.” His speech concluded with the background music of The Impossible Dreamand he urging the audience, “to bear with unbearable sorrow and run where the brave dare not go.” When I arrived home I told my wife that it was futile to pray for our success, God was working full time for an agent in Biloxi, Mississippi.
“COMPANY MONEY ON THE ROCKS”
The company meetings were much more formal and a lot more fun. Each year the home office staff gathered together with those agents who had made their quotas, and their wives for a three or four day sales seminar at some resort location. The usiness meetings were conducted in the mornings, and afternoons were devoted to golf or tennis for the men and shopping tours for the wives. Each evening the home office hosted a cocktail party and banquet with formal evening wear suggested. My recollection of these events is a mixture of sun, nicotine, red meat, alcohol, and angst. The cocktail parties were referred to as “company money on the rocks.”
The business sessions were devoted to the introduction of new products and recognition for outstanding achievements. However, like all sales meetings, the emphasis was on motivation and production. You could never sell too much, and each year the quotas were increased. The prevailing lament was that every time the agent made a touchdown, the home office moved the goal posts.The motivation always came in the form of a powerful speech generally given by one of the company officers or a top agent, reminding us again of our sacred mission; to protect Molly and the babies. One of the most memorable of these was an agent who, with tears in his eyes, solemnly invoked the pledge that he would gladly pierce one of his veins and sign, in his own blood, the application for the life insurance that would keep his wife and precious children in their own world. Such was the level of passion and belief that was demonstrated by many agents.
APPLAUSE, APPLAUSE
One of the most universal of all characteristics of the successful life insurance agent was an extremely well developed ego. Aside from the independence and the monetary rewards, the agent derived significant job satisfaction from being applauded for his sales efforts. Agency management and home offices went to great lengths to exploit this need by constantly providing acknowledgement through challenges and awards. Every week the local office would publish a bulletin that detailed the current production of each producer. If sales were flagging, a contest would be inaugurated offering prizes for outstanding achievement.
Every September, home offices would enter into a frenzy of activity promoting a nation-wide sales contest. A theme would be established, generally involving a sports event like football or baseball. The producers would be divided into teams, and gencies would be pitted against each other to see who could out-produce their opponent. A sales quota was set and those who reached it were feted, along with their spouses, to a gala celebration. At every opportunity, there were occasions established to award the winners with a prize or a plaque.
NO ONE DIES
It is ironic that a product promising to pay a given sum of money upon the death of an individual should be called Life Insurance. Whoever coined that term was well aware that the mass of humanity holds the idea of death in low esteem. This is especially true in our culture, where death is looked upon as something that happens only to the unlucky, the old, and the infirm. “Science will get something worked out, a pill or a potion, that will keep it from happening to me.”
The wise life insurance agent learned early on to avoid the D word. Death, Die, Dying, Dead were not found in his lexicon. It was OK to “pass on”, “pass over” or “passaway”,but never the D word. “Mr. Prospect, there is no reason to suppose that you won’t live a long and happy life. However, it is wise and prudent to hope for the best but plan for the worst. This policy will not only safeguard your family in the event, God forbid, that you should pass away, but the cash value will accumulate to $38,000.00 by the time you are ready to retire. I suggest that we bind your application with one month’s premium, or would you prefer to pay the full annual deposit?”
THE FEW, THE CHOSEN
Picture us in the 50’s – think Robert Young in Father Knows Best-there we were with our genuine leather brief case neatly tucked under our arm, dressed in our gray flannel suit, pants pressed, shoes shined, a snap in our fedora, dedicated to the sacred mission of preserving the American way of life for helpless widows and orphans.
We had a firm handshake, a look-em-in-the-eye attitude, a smile on our face and a song in our heart. What auto salesman would vow to tap into his own blood to sign the application? What real estate agent would, with tears in his eyes, proudly proclaim that God had led him to the greatest business in the world? We were magnificent in our passion and purpose: the few, the chosen, the elite in this country’s vast army of salesmen. We were Life Insurance Agents and damn proud of it.
And we gave as much as we received. We were strong, earnest, hardworking leaders of our communities. We were scoutmasters, little league coaches, and deacons of our churches. We were active members of Big Brothers, the local Rotary and Kiwanis club. You could look on any school board or any charity drive and there you would find a Life Insurance Agent.
MOLLY GOES TO WORK
But our time, like the Studebaker, I Love Lucy, and the fedora, finally came to an end. No, we did not abandon Molly-she abandoned us. One morning around the late 60’s, whether thorough boredom, the feminist movement, or economic necessity, she walked out the door and joined the great American work force. You can find her now as president of a corporation, a lawyer, a physician, dental technician, massage therapist, bartender and, yes (fortunately) an insurance agent. She may very likely earn more money than her husband or, even more likely, she is a single mother. There is simply no longer the need to protect Molly and the babies: she’s at the office, and Timmy and Tiffany are in day care.
The era of the true Life Insurance Agent was brief but glorious. Once Molly left for work, most agents turned to other markets: business insurance, health insurance. They became specialists, and now call themselves Estate Planners, Financial Planners or Investment Advisors. Their portfolios now contain stocks and mutual funds. Life insurance is just another arrow in their sales quiver. Hardly a week goes by that I am not offered low cost term insurance on TV or the Internet.
The mission now is all about interest rates and corporate yield. The passion of Hartford has become the profit of Wall Street. That brief but grand epoch of Molly and the babies will never come again. All that remains now are the memories. Perhaps the time has come to take up, God forbid, the bagpipes.
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John Lee served as Charter President of The Alaska General Agents and Managers Association. He is Past President of The General Agents and Managers International Conference and The Seattle Chapter of The American College of Chartered Life Underwriters. He is retired and lives in Bellingham, Washington with his wife Camilla. He is now a freelance writer, teacher, and lecturer. He can be reached at: jjlee64@comcast.net.
