What you assume about the learner

Selling something unfamiliar is mostly teaching. A woman in Abu Dhabi who sells a new kind of baby sling online spends more of her day explaining than selling: how it ties, why it is safe, what it feels like after an hour.

How well she teaches depends less on her words than on what she assumes about the person reading them.

One seller assumes the customer is careless. They did not read the instructions, they will tie it wrong and blame the product, they are probably fishing for a refund. So the page fills with warnings and small print, and every question gets a guarded reply. That seller spends the day building fences.

Another seller assumes something different. That the person on the other side has already chosen to learn, or can be helped to choose, and nothing lands until they have. That they mean well. That they are a little frightened, because a new parent holding an unfamiliar piece of fabric is about to feel clumsy for a while, and clumsiness in front of a baby is a real fear. That they are missing the background the seller takes for granted, the words and the alternatives and the reasons, which no quick tip will supply.

The second seller writes a slower page. More of it is context, less of it is rules. She suggests trying it first with a partner nearby, because understanding usually arrives in company.

Both sellers have the same product. Only one of them is actually teaching.