Off in the distance is a herd of zebra. You’re down wind. You can smell the herd but they can’t smell you. You crouch closely to the earth, stealthily move closer, your padded feet not making a sound.

The zebra slowly mingle in the herd. Your only hope of catching one is to single it out from the rest, but which? The stripes of one blend seamlessly into the stripes of the next, creating a vermiculite tapestry of white and black. How do you focus on any individual when you can’t determine where one begins and the other ends?

Wait. What’s that? One zebra is grazing apart from the others. You can see every detail. It’s nostrils contract with each inhale and expand as each breath leaves its body. You watch its tail idly swatting at flies as it slowly steps forward to reach the next succulent blade of grass.

You are now focused on the one, rather than being confused by the many.

And the many? They have taken advantage of the safety of the herd. Herd animals like zebra, or sheep, or even people protect themselves by looking and acting like every other herd animal.

Taking risks is… risky.

Taking a risk gets you noticed. It exposes your vulnerabilities.  And what’s the upside?  Is there an upside?

No banker has ever been fired for refusing to make a loan. No investment broker was ever fired for buying IBM. Not taking risks is instinctive.

So we do the things we’ve seen other businesses do. We recite the same messages, replicate the same images, and deliver them through the same media. We stick with what works. We choose the tried and true and smugly congratulate ourselves on not taking any risks.

What passes for most business strategy is simply a “me too” game of “We do what they do, but you should buy from us instead.”

Unfortunately, “we do what they do” makes your business blend back into the herd. You’ve made the very things that make you the best solution to your customers problems impossible for the lions (uh… the customers) to single out.

Brace yourself.

“Me too” as a strategy fails because you’ve hidden your strengths. Successful marketing of your business requires behavior that’s not only risky, it runs counter to instinct.

Successful marketing requires you to step apart from the herd, and draw attention to yourself.

Successful marketing requires you to shed your stripes.

For many of us, the terms are intertwined, frequently interchanged, and often confused.

Strategy and tactics.  Tactics and strategy. Like so many terms in business, these have come from the military. Strategy is the planning of the grand scheme of how to win the war. Tactics are the planning of individual battles. Strategy is a decision of what to do. Tactics are choosing how to do it. Tactics constantly change. Strategy does not.

Fishermen instinctively understand the best bait in the world won’t work when you drop your hook into a pond without fish.  Choosing the right fishing hole is strategy.  Selecting the bait is a tactic.

Deciding whether to move the troops is much like a decision about where to fish.

In 1861, President Lincoln’s Secretary of State, William H. Seward, recommended the “border strategy.” He proposed that the Union army amass on the perimeter of the Confederacy to contain the Confederate armies and protect the Union States.

Secretary of the Navy, Gideon Welles proposed an alternate strategy: to invade the Confederacy and quickly subjugate its government. But no matter which strategy Lincoln approved, troops would have to be moved into position.

How does one move troops? Put them on a ship in Annapolis and sail around Florida to position them on the Confederacy’s Gulf Coast border? Put them in railroad cars and tote them to Richmond? Or line the men in formation and march them to Georgia? Any of these choices is tactical.

To surround or to invade? Strategic decision. Transporting the troops? Tactics.

The problem most businesses have is strategic.

Tactical marketing solves an immediate problem to move merchandise. Strategic marketing plans for the longer term, finding your unique value and growing a business around it.

• A farmer choosing a 5 bottom plow over one with 3 bottoms is tactical.  Planting potatoes is a strategy.
• A doctor printing a new brochure is a tactic. Speaking before the Rotary Club is a different tactic.  Writing a newspaper column is another.  Specializing in diseases of the elderly is a strategy.
• Choosing to debate a political opponent is an exercise in tactics.  Publishing a position paper is a tactic.  Appearing on late night TV is a tactic.  Running for office is the strategy they support.

You’ll notice that in any situation there are only a handful of viable strategies, but dozens of appropriate tactics.

This is an important observation when these terms are being carelessly flung around, especially when you may be considering hiring marketing help. Most of the sources you’ll find, regardless of what they’re called, are collections of tactics. “Strategies to Turn Your Company Around in 90 Days,” “Networking Strategies for Business,” or “One Hundred Strategies for Doubling Your Sales,” are effectively discussions of which fishing lure to use. They are descriptions of tactics.

Focus on choosing your pond more carefully.

Its not whether to run a Hot Summer Nights Sale at your automobile lot, but rather whether your dealership should be in the used car business at all.

Its not whether you should have an ad in the Yellow pages, but instead determining the which message that ad will plant in the in the minds of your prospective customers.

Just as it doesn’t matter which bait you put on your hook if you’ve chosen a pond with too few fish, your choice of tactic doesn’t matter when you’re using the wrong strategy.

When you find yourself cutting price to match the new superstore, selling more volume than you’ve ever sold before, and still watching your profits shrink month after month, it doesn’t matter which tactics you might choose to spur repeat sales. Your problem is that you’ve chosen the wrong enemy and are strategically engaging in a war you can’t win.

He glanced at a couple of crickets playing leap cricket. “Crickets never seem to work at all,” he noticed. Then he wondered,“Why is it that we ants never take a break, while crickets play games all day long?”

Anthony pondered the state of his life as he picked up his load and continued toward the anthill, but he couldn’t put the thought out of his mind. The thought of those crickets who seemed to enjoy life so much more than any ant ever did.“Is this all there is,” he wondered, “picking up food and carrying it to the ant hill?”

For three more days he absent-mindedly continued his place in the ant work detail, wondering why ants never take a day off.

“Why was I born an ant? And why don’t I feel like the other ants? Is there something wrong with me?”

At the end of the third day, he placed his load on the ground and stepped determinedly away from the ant formation. Anthony wasn’t going to work another lick until he got some answers. He would consult the wisest person in the woods - Madam Owl.

Anthony arose before dawn and marched determinedly into the woods. Though he had nearly half a mile to go, his two millimeter stride never hesitated, never wavered. He just kept putting three feet in front of the other three.

The sun was directly overhead when Anthony finally reached the clearing at the center of the woods.

Looking up, he saw Madam Owl on the uppermost branch of the tallest oak tree.

Anthony tried calling to her, but she couldn’t hear him.

He stood on his back legs and waved his arms and antennae, but the owl was focused on the horizon and didn’t notice Anthony at all.

“If the owl won’t come to the ant” he muttered under his breath, and started climbing the tree.

Dinnertime came and went but Anthony didn’t waver in his quest. Being an ant, it didn’t occur to him that he could stop to take a break. An ant on a mission, he just kept climbing.

Finally, as the sun was dipping on the horizon, he reached the branch of Madam Owl, and called for her attention.

“Madam Owl,” he said, in his most polite masculine ant voice. “Madam Owl, I’ve come to seek your wisdom. You’re said to be the most learned person in the woods. Please, advise me.”

The owl turned toward the ant, her eyes focusing on his tiny form. She paused long enough to take in the situation before asking, “How can I help you?”

“Like all of the ants, I work and work and never get any rest. And yet, I notice that not all creatures work as hard as ants do. I want to have some fun. I want to take the occasional afternoon off. But the other ants only focus on working“ Anthony said, trying not to sound whiney as he asked, “hat can I do?”

Madam Owl closed her eyes, and considered Anthony’s question. Neither of them made a sound as she pondered the possibilities. When her eyes opened she assumed the satisfied look of someone who has no doubt of her answer.

“Son,” she said, “the problem is that you’re an ant. If you were a Junebug, or a firefly, or a cricket, you’d be much happier. That way you’ll have all of the time you need to play. You might even take up the fiddle and fiddle away some of those afternoons you want to take off’. “You,” she concluded, “need to become a cricket.”

Anthony looked stunned. “But, but,” he stammered, “How do I do that, Madam Owl? I’m an ant. How in the world do I become a cricket?”

The owl looked quite cross when she said, Ant, I’ve given you the strategy. Surely you can figure out the tactics on your own.”