How to “Fire” a Client
Posted by Anna Belle on 24 Jul 2007 at 05:44 pm | Tagged as: Volunteering
Have you ever had a web project you volunteered for turn bad? I certainly have. It can even happen after I’ve done all the right groundwork. Actually it’s inevitable for those of us who volunteer frequently. But I don’t think that should discourage you. It doesn’t happen that frequently and when it does, it’s a classic opportunity for growth.
Often the issue is scope creep. Those in control want more than they originally said they did. Or they might not like a design you’ve created and rather than working with you, they start telling you what you should do. Yet another type of rogue client will insist that you put absolutely everything willy-nilly on the home page. They won’t listen to reason, much less consider usability tests.
Whatever the specifics, you’ll know, because suddenly your enthusiasm will evaporate. You might even start to dread working on it, even though it’s just a volunteer job.
So what do you do? I’d say it’s time to (in the immortal words of a dear friend) “fire the client.”
Of course, you could confront the issue head-on. That sounds like the honorable thing to do. But it never, ever works in my experience when the issue is volunteering your web expertise. There are many people who don’t understand web work, but won’t admit it. They might be embarrassed, afraid or even ashamed that they know less than you. Of course, that’s silly. Alternatively they could be arrogant or one fruit loop shy of a full bowl. The particulars vary, but the end result is that they underestimate what’s required. Oddly enough they can simultaneously overestimate the difficulty of the whole project, no matter what you say to them. But both of those suggest they aren’t listening.
If they aren’t listening, then saying more won’t work. That’s why a direct confrontation isn’t a great strategy. Instead, I’ve discovered two techniques that are relatively easy and painless. While they won’t fix the website, they get you out.
Politely suggest that they find someone else. I learned this technique from a first-rate contract programmer. When clients go sour on him, first he’ll call someone like me and vent. Then he calls the client and tells them that clearly they need someone more talented than him. He says he’s sorry he wasn’t able to provide what they wanted. One time when he did this, the employer tried to find someone else, and quickly realized he wasn’t going to find anyone better. He returned with a greatly improved attitude.
Focus on the reality that you have limited time – again, politely. You’re a volunteer, so you have more say over your hours. In my most recent less-than-stellar experience, I told them that, due to circumstances, I could only give them eight more hours. That elicited a much-needed thank you. The person suddenly realized how much time I’d put in. She was typical in that she meant well. She just wasn’t the right person to be coordinating this work. I exited stage right, without burning bridges.
There are plenty of other places that can successfully use what you have to offer, so a graceful retreat rather than trying to fix the problem is best. And believe it or not, even though it’s only volunteer work, your reputation is at stake.
So those are my best strategies for when web volunteering gets rough. Do you have others? I’d love to hear.

FABULOUS topic!
One thing I recommend, that I never did, but certainly would now: if you are doing volunteer work, write up a contract. Why, for unpaid work?
a) Expectations are in writing
b) If someone tries to get you to do more than you asked, you can politely refer them to the document
c) In the volunteer world, people change positions. That district executive or church president who brought you on, leaves, and someone else comes in — and that next person will have different expectations. That’s fine, but if you have a contract, then it’s understood that these are DIFFERENT expectations.
d) In your contract, specify that either party can terminate the relationship at any given time. (You can be nice and put in something like “webmaster agrees to give 1 month’s notice.”) AND, this way you can put in if your volunteering is for a limited time — If you’re only willing to webmaster for 2 years, there it is, in writing. No need for anyone to act petulant when you remind them they need to find someone new.
e) Make it darn-tooting-sure that you are in no way responsible for hunting down the information that needs to go on the site. Otherwise, 90% of your time will be spent trying to track down reports from committee chairs.
I could write a book on this. I will admit to still being bitter. Webmastering is a hard volunteer job because a) people assume that since they surf the internet, designing web pages can’t be that hard, b) It’s an area ripe for micromanagement, c) people who aren’t in this line of work really have NO clue how much work goes into maintaining a site, especially one with content that changes often. I’ve heard many burnt-out webmasters complaining of what I’ve experienced: being the sole webmaster on a site that really should be under a professional team.
And don’t even get me started on the “we’ll get you some help” … and the people you are presented with have never done any web work, but hey, “they’re smart and can learn fast!”
If I ever do volunteer webwork again, I will begin the project as a total … well, bitch. “Here’s what I’m willing to do, here’s what I won’t do, here’s the length of time I’m willing to work on this …” Kind of like being a teacher. You can always get nicer, later.
Gurgle. Okay. Stopping now.