The Yes/ No Game
Did you know that the Whitney Houston classic, I Will Always Love You, was actually written by Dolly Parton?
Yes? Ok, you’re out.
No? Ok, you’re also out.
If you’ve played the yes/no game before then you might understand what I’m on about. And if you haven’t, well the premise is incredibly simple. I have to try to get you, in the course of normal conversation, to say either yes, or no, and you have to try to get me to do the same.
Whichever of us says either forbidden word first, loses.
Got it?
The appropriate response to that question is:
“I understand, let’s begin”
It’s best played on a road trip with children. Mostly because they’re easier to beat.
I was listening to a podcast recently. Something which, for me, is a rarer occurrence than it used to be. Back when I started listening, they were a relatively new media format. There were far fewer of them. The setup costs were higher, both in terms of time and money. Which acted as a great filter for people who shouldn’t really have a podcast.
The podcast in question was an interview with Matthew McConaughey. Matthew was talking about his transition from being Hollywood’s go-to romcom guy, to becoming the person that Matthew actually wanted to be. And more importantly, someone Matthew believed he had the talent to become.
A serious actor, writer and director.
The problem is, Hollywood didn’t agree. Or actually, their interest was in keeping Matthew where he was. Because he was making them money. A lot.
We know where the story ends. But what most people don’t know is what the process of getting there looked like. It looked like saying no. Time and time again.
In pursuit of his dream, McConaughey leaves Malibu and moves back to his native Texas. He's steadily offered fewer and fewer opportunities. And then, about six months into his self-imposed exile, his agent calls with an offer.
Another romcom. The script is sent and the remuneration is offered. $8m. McConaughey says no.
The remuneration increases.
To $10m. Then $12.5m. It reaches $15m, and naturally, McConaughey decides that the script is probably worth a second read. Before saying no again.
As penance for his rejections, McConaughey spends twenty months wandering the Texan desert.
Then, Hollywood finally realised that he was not bluffing. And things turned a corner.
First came Bernie, then Killer Joe and Mud. And then, four years after he decided that he would no longer be Mr Romcom, he won the Oscar for Best Actor for his role in Dallas Buyers Club.
A film he had personally held the rights to for years. But he couldn’t find anyone who would agree to make it, and let him play the lead role.
Now, there’s more than one thread that I could pull at here. But the one I’m really interested in is the theory that by saying no, what you’re really doing is making space for things worth saying yes to.
When I first started my business, I was used to saying yes. To the point where it became default. In my previous role I worked for a company that had a lot of mouths to feed, so saying yes put food on the table.
But when you work for yourself, and the aim is to make every client feel like they're your most important one, saying yes too much can result in two things.
New clients who don’t value the service you provide, and aren’t willing to pay for it. Or existing clients becoming unhappy, because you have too many clients.
So recently, I’ve found myself saying no a lot more. To unreasonable clients. To overpriced properties. To bad commercial terms. To being one of five agents.
But saying no can be scary. It’s easy to catch a case of the WHATIFS.
After McConaughey decided what he was no longer saying yes to, the first person he called was his agent, Jim Toth. McConaughey tells Toth he doesn’t want to do romantic comedies any more. To which Toth responds:
“Great”
McConaughey wants to know what Toth will tell his superiors. To which Toth says:
”I don’t work for them. I work for you”
Recently in my own journey of saying no, I was given an ultimatum. By a client asking me to sell a property that I very much wanted to sell. But the commercial terms were unfavourable, and more importantly a stark departure from what I’d agreed with all of my other clients. I was given the weekend to make a decision.
So I did what I normally do. I went for an early morning walk with Rocky, my Cocker Spaniel. But this time I brought someone else along, a mentor of mine, and another member of the early risers club.
“Remember Simon, no business is better than bad business”.
And so the weekend ended with another no.
And then, as if by magic, some yeses came along. Like London buses, as it happens. Or maybe it wasn’t magic. Maybe the fear was I’d develop a reputation for saying no. But actually, the yeses came from a different kind of reputation. One for delivering results.
Yes to another house on Queen’s Park’s best road. I was recommended to the owners by their former neighbour, whose house I sold at the end of 2025.
Yes to some buyers I was helping find a forever home. Who, having found one, asked me to sell their current apartment.
Yes to a developer client who’s carefully restored a house under the expert guidance of Newman Zieglmeier architects. The same developer owns an apartment in Marylebone, which he’s also asked me to sell.
Yes to loyal clients, yes to good people, yes to remuneration which reflects not only the effort that it takes to sell property in this market, but also the decades of experience too.
And of course saying no and leaving room for yes doesn’t only apply to work.
It also applies to the thousands of other things competing for our attention. Like podcasts that should never have been made, social media algorithms that encourage endless scrolling, and Tottenham Hotspur FC.
So, no to wasting time and money on things that will drain my energy, and in the case of Spurs, consistently ruin my weekends.
Instead, yes to walks with Rocky on Hampstead Heath. Yes to spending time with my friends and family in real life. Yes to reading. Books, newspapers and the odd cereal box too.
Oh, and I Will Always Love You?
Made famous by Whitney. Written by Dolly.
But what most people don’t know is that Dolly had agreed to let Elvis record the song, right up until the night before he was due to go into the studio. At that point, his manager decided that Elvis wanted half the publishing rights.
Dolly said no. To the King. A man whose music she’d grown up listening to. And then she waited 18 years for Whitney to sing it.
The half she didn’t give away? Worth between $10m and $15m. Which beats working nine to five.
Things I’ve been paying attention to recently
London Falling: A Mysterious Death in a Gilded City and a Family’s Search for Truth is a book that had been recommended by a few different people. But then I saw my sister a few Fridays ago, and she couldn’t believe I hadn’t read it. It was unputdownable - I have never read a book so quickly.
I am following that up with another book by the same author. Say Nothing: A True Story of Murder and Memory in Northern Ireland.
And I’m also watching a TV series about The Troubles. Once Upon a Time in Northern Ireland.
Rabbit holes, me?
SDRE news
That carefully restored house? Opposite Queen’s Park - here.
A lovely family home, at the intersection of West Hampstead, Mapesbury, and Brondesbury - here.