You Can’t Sell to a Person Who Doesn’t Know They Have a Goldmine in Their Data
I approach the head office of a motor group. They have at least 20 different marques (brands of vehicles). Sitting in his office I ask, “Now that the Chinese are entering the motor industry, how is it affecting your sales?”
“Not at all,” he replies. Hello — here is a motor group proving the Chinese are having no effect on the Mercs, BMW, VW they are selling.
OK, I think. “Give me some sales data reflecting quantities sold.” I must be able to prove this guy wrong. Nope — he sends me numbers that don’t show a downward or any trend. I am puzzled.
The next thing he tells me is that there is no referral or repeat sales. They are once-off. Something just does not gel. If his customers want to downsize their Merc, why are they not going to the comparable marque he sells and buying that from him?
OK — so what would I do?
Ask the question: “What business am I really in?” Because how you define your business determines whom you serve, how you segment, how you differentiate, and how you win.
Why It Is Important to Know What Business You Are Really In
(Including classic examples such as oil lamps, railways, Kodak, Blockbuster, and modern parallels.)
Knowing What Business You Are Really In
Most companies think they know what business they are in. They believe the answer lies neatly in the product they make, the service they provide, or the machinery they own.
Yet history shows us — again and again — that companies fail not because they lack resources, capital, or intelligence, but because they misunderstand the true nature of the business they are in. They define themselves too narrowly, and in doing so, they trap their identity inside a shrinking world.
Understanding the deeper purpose of a business is not a philosophical exercise. It is a strategic necessity. The companies that succeed over decades are those that recognise their customers’ underlying needs, rather than clinging to the products that temporarily fulfil them.
The Peril of Narrow Definition
Theodore Levitt, in his seminal essay on “marketing myopia,” argued that industries decline when they define themselves by their products instead of by the needs they serve. Products are temporary — tools of the moment. Needs are enduring.
A product loses relevance. A customer need does not.
When companies define themselves around a product, they anchor their future to something that will inevitably change, improve, be replaced — or simply disappear. This is where so many industries have gone wrong.
The Oil Lamp Industry: A Lesson in Extinction
In the late 19th century, oil-lamp manufacturers ruled domestic lighting. They competed on wick design, oil quality, distribution networks, and artistic glasswork. Their success was built on the premise:
“We are in the lamp business.”
When electricity arrived, the oil lamp industry did not respond by investing in electric light. They saw electricity as a threat to their product, not an enabler of their purpose. Their business definition was too small.
Had they recognised that they were in the lighting or illumination business, they could have evolved into electric lighting innovators — Edison’s competitors rather than his casualties.
Their downfall was not technology itself, but blindness to what customers truly valued: Not lamps, but light.
Railways: The Business They Missed
Railroads were once the most powerful industry in the world. They controlled commerce, mobility, and the growth of cities. Their leaders genuinely believed they owned the future. They defined themselves confidently as:
“We are in the railroad business.”
But customers didn’t buy railroads — they bought transportation. As cars, trucks, and airplanes emerged, rail companies did not participate. They saw these new technologies as external competition rather than adjacent opportunities.
If railway companies had defined themselves more broadly — “We move people and goods” — they would have become the first trucking companies, airlines, or integrated logistics players. Instead, their strategic myopia shrank them into niche operators.
Infrastructure did not kill rail. Lack of imagination did.
Kodak: A Giant Trapped by Its Product
Kodak once owned the world of photography. Their film dominance was absolute. Ironically, Kodak engineers invented one of the first digital cameras in 1975.
But executives buried the technology. Why? Because they believed Kodak was in the film business.
They saw digital imaging as a threat to film sales, rather than a continuation of their true business: helping people capture memories.
Had Kodak seen itself in the memory-preservation business, it could have become the global leader in digital photography, cloud storage, and social imaging platforms.
It was not disrupted by technology — it was disrupted by its own identity.
Blockbuster: Confusing Distribution with Value
Blockbuster built a thriving retail video rental chain. For years, it defined its business around:
“We rent movies from stores.”
When Netflix began mailing DVDs and later streaming them online, Blockbuster dismissed it. They believed customers valued the store experience. They did not see the business as entertainment access — they saw it as physical rental.
The day Netflix offered to sell themselves to Blockbuster for $50 million — and was turned down — is now legendary.
Netflix saw the bigger picture: “We deliver entertainment efficiently.”
Technology did not destroy Blockbuster; misunderstanding its business did.
The Companies That Get It Right
Amazon: Customer Convenience, Not Retail
Amazon began by selling books online. It could have defined itself as an online bookstore. Instead, Bezos framed it around customer obsession and logistics.
Today Amazon is:
• a marketplace,
• a logistics giant,
• a media company,
• a cloud computing powerhouse (AWS),
• and a hardware ecosystem builder.
Apple: Experience, Not Devices
Apple does not sell phones or laptops. It delivers: digital lifestyle + delightful experience.
This philosophy unlocked entire ecosystems:
• iTunes
• App Store
• Apple Pay
• Wearables
• Services
Tesla: Mobility + Energy
Tesla sells cars, but sees itself as: a mobility + software + energy company.
That is why it builds:
• Charging networks
• Energy storage
• Solar products
• Autonomous driving systems
• Continuous improvement via software updates
Tesla’s real business is an energy and mobility ecosystem.
Why Business Definition Matters
Defining your business correctly has five strategic impacts:
1) It Drives Innovation
If you think you sell oil lamps, you improve wicks.
If you think you provide light, you invent bulbs.
2) It Expands the Market
Railroads would have naturally expanded into air travel if they saw transportation as their purpose.
3) It Shields Against Disruption
Kodak would not fear digital.
It would embrace it.
4) It Guides Investment
Amazon invests in cloud computing because it sees itself broadly.
5) It Builds Longevity
Products die.
Needs endure.
A Simple Rule
If you define your business by what you make, you are vulnerable.
If you define it by what your customer seeks, you are enduring.
Every business should ask:
• What does the customer actually want?
• What problem do we really solve?
• What need are we in service of?
Conclusion
Understanding what business you are really in separates the transient from the timeless. Companies fail not because markets disappear, but because their identity does.
The oil-lamp makers, railroad barons, Kodak, and Blockbuster all tied their existence to the product, not the need. Their products were temporary; their customers’ needs — light, transport, memories, entertainment — continued without them.
The world belongs to those that define themselves around the customer.
Because as needs evolve and technology changes, only one question matters:
Are you loyal to your product — or to your purpose?
The companies that choose purpose endure. The ones that cling to product fade into history.