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Bus One Seven
Tappin' the Mahogany
by Roderick Armageddon

In 1906 Alfred C. Fuller founded the Boston Brush Company in the basement of his sister's humble bungalow. Dedicating his life to building brooms and dust pans, Fuller created sales history when he started knocking on residential doors to introduce his products to unsuspecting potential customers. Fuller had a gift for gab and excelled at building a rapport with his customers through his new-fangled (I've never written a piece more appropriate for that term) door-to-door sales techniques. He would march from home to home, demonstrate his wares, and then return to his makeshift manufacturing studio to hand build the brushes ordered that day.

Like a one man Kozmo.com, Fuller's business quickly grew too large for one person to handle and by 1910 he employed more than 250 dealers in addition to running a custom manufacturing facility. In 1921 the Saturday Evening Post coined the term "Fuller Brush Man," opening the gates for millions of door-to-door sales people. In 15 years Fuller had become a folk hero, rising from modest beginnings to great wealth through his personal vision and drive. Little did humble Fuller know, he had given birth to a monster far greater than anyone ever imagined. There would be far more than brushes peddled on the doorsteps of America. Fuller had created more than profits; he created a revolution in unsolicited contact, paving the way for numerous discussions and arguments on personal property, space, freedom and constitutional rights.

The art of door-to-door sales has since found traction with a wide variety of wares, giving life to the Kirby Vacuum Company in addition to a sea of cleaning supply companies attempting to rekindle Fuller's success. Added to the forces hocking typical hard goods, porches were flooded by legions of medicinal and insurance reps, political messengers and a gamut of religious groups looking to bolster their ranks while saving a few souls. For the latter, the art of direct marketing to the home was far from unique.

Unfortunately for the denizens of door-to-door believers, America has grown weary of direct marketing, having to battle it every day on the phone, the Web and in brass mailboxes. A confident tap on the door is very often the last thing people want to hear before they park it on the couch with Taco Bell and a Seinfeld rerun. Though alive and well in company sales meetings and missionary training centers across the country, the art of door-to-door has recently come under heavy fire, ending up in community forums, newspapers and on the benches of America's high court.

The Court Speaks

The United States Supreme Court recently laid down what many consider the final door-to-door word, ruling that the city of Stratton, Ohio, violated free speech. In an 8-1 decision in June 2002, the court ruled in favor of the Jehovah's Witnesses -targets of many past solicitation lawsuits. According to the court, a law in Stratton, Ohio, ordering all door-to-door canvassers to first get permission from the mayor's office before tapping the mahogany is unconstitutional.

In their ruling, the court concentrated on the real premise of the case: free speech —not religious freedomÑ therefore all canvassing, not just religious canvassing was deemed protected by the court. "It is offensiveÑnot only to the values protected by the First Amendment, but to the very notion of a free societyÑthat in the context of everyday public discourse a citizen must first inform the government of her desire to speak to her neighbors and then obtain a permit to do so," Justice John Paul Stevens wrote for the majority. Bolstering previous rulings, the court reiterated that distributing religious materials "occupies the same high estate under the First Amendment as do worship in the churches and preaching from the pulpits."

The lone dissenter in the case was chief justice William H. Rehnquist, who argued that the decision "renders local governments largely impotent to address the very real safety threat that canvassers pose." To punctuate his remarks, he referenced a double murder in Hanover, New Hampshire, where two Dartmouth College professors were brutally killed by teenagers pretending to conduct an environmental survey for a school project. Once the teens sold their story to the professors, they were invited in; the door closed; and so ended the charade. "The Constitution does not require that Stratton first endure its own crime wave before it takes measures to prevent crime," Rehnquist wrote. "In light of today's decision depriving Stratton residents of the degree of accountability and safety that the permit requirement provides, more and more residents may decide to place these signs in their yards and cut off door-to-door communication altogether."

Justice Stephen G. Breyer took out Rehnquist's argument at the knees, stating "For one thing, there is no indication that the legislative body that passed the ordinance considered this justification," he wrote. "Stratton did not rely on the rationaleÉ If the village of Stratton thought preventing burglaries and violent crimes was an important justification for this ordinance, it would have said so." In his counter argument, Breyer cited ample evidence that this particular suit had little or nothing to do with security. Many believe that if the case had been properly packaged in a boxed labeled "home security," the court would've rendered a different decision.

This in no way discounts the argument that home security is a serious issue, worthy of further consideration and discourse. This issue runs deeper than constitutional freedom. Not long ago, the House Consumer and Employee Affairs Committee approved legislation that would prevent violent felons from going door-to-door selling merchandise or services. The bill follows the murder of a Knoxville, Tennessee woman who was brutally attacked and murdered by a magazine salesman with a criminal history of violent crime. While not directly affecting all door-to-door practitioners, this legislation does open the door (so to speak) for future legal exploration of the safety of allowing people to solicit directly to people's homes.

Following the Supreme Court's ruling in the Stratton case, USA Today featured an editorial in their news Blog that stated, "The next time some Jehovah's Witnesses interrupt your dinner, you might consider thanking them. In gritty dedication to their religious principles, this out-of-the-mainstream denomination of scarcely 1 million members has probably done more than any other institution to secure freedom of speech for individual Americans."

As you can imagine, Jehovah's Witnesses weren't alone in celebrating the court's ruling. In an amicus curiae brief, the Mormon Church noted that in the last decade, the church had seen "a drastic surge in the number and severity of anti-solicitation laws that are being applied to religious proselytizing."

Mormons + Vacuums = Respect

Having grown up in Mormon country where I later sold Kirby vacuums door-to-door in an attempt to pay for tuition, the court's ruling in the Stratton case left me feeling a sense of relief. Though I was not a member of the Latter Day Saints, most of my high school friends went on religious missions for the Mormon Church and many of them encountered hostile treatment both in America and abroad. Their challenges brought the reality of door-to-door closer to me, offering the opportunity to look beyond the receiver's perspective, and directly into the eyes of the messenger. This insight and empathy was further solidified after tapping the mahogany with my own trembling knuckles. Door-to-door is challenging work and often unforgiving. I imagine that the majority of door-to-door salespeople are more uncomfortable with their trade than the people waiting behind the doors they target. Not everyone is as natural as Alfred C. Fuller. And no one is living in a world as innocent to door-to-door as Fuller's.

My wife and I own our home and prefer not to receive door-to-door solicitation; however I choose to keep my front door uncluttered by a "No Solicitors" sign or a picture of a viscous dog accompanying threats of the turmoil awaiting them should they choose to move from the sidewalk. On the contrary, I will always take the time to speak with solicitors and offer a few minutes of my time —if I have it or believe I can spare it. I can't help but want to offer a dose of non-hostile human contact. There's one chap that occasionally makes his way to our door selling wood pencils. We have never purchased a single pencil from this chap, but I can't help but admire his determination. Should he ever cross the line of professionalism, I might feel differently, but until that time, he's just another human trying to make a living and hopefully not harming anyone in the process.

Perhaps that is where the issue has found its greatest challenge. Door-to-door is relatively free from regulation and there are few standards for conduct, thus leaving each salesperson with the responsibility to be as professional and courteous as possible, even in the face of screaming rednecks or pretentious soccer moms. If door-to-door is to survive, its advocates and practitioners must rise above the used car salesman tactics that many door-to-door practitioners employ. The need to increase sales has driven salespeople to lose sight of the potential relationship they might build —even in a door-to-door situation. Door-to-door practitioners, whether they're hocking detergent, fishing line or salvation, must rise to an unprecedented level of professionalism. They must demand respect by giving it.

If we can take away one lesson from Fuller's story it's that his primary concern was building his customers' trust in him and then his products. In a world cluttered with short-term commitments, door-to-door must adapt, or simply fade away.