It was a fellow journalist, short-story writer, and novelist Rudyard Kipling — the author of “The Jungle Book” — who is credited with being the originator of the phrase “the world’s oldest profession.” His 1888 story about a prostitute begins, “Lalun is a member of the most ancient profession in the world.”
In the early 20th century, authors were naming their books after the idea, including physician William Josephus Robinson’s social and medical assessment “The Oldest Profession in the World: Prostitution” from 1929, and Joseph McCabe’s “The Story of the World’s Oldest Profession” in 1932.
Kipling may have penned that expression after reading the Old Testament, which depicts many Israelites as having large numbers of concubines who could be viewed as prostitutes. According to 1 Kings 11:3, King Solomon had “700 wives … and 300 concubines.”
I have to call into question Kipling’s argument. I consider myself as working in the world’s oldest profession, and I am not a prostitute. First and foremost, I am a salesman.
My evidence comes from Genesis, the first book in the bible. The serpent in the third chapter of Genesis sold Eve on eating the fruit from the tree in the middle of the garden, which in paintings and literature has become associated with the apple.
Not only is selling the world’s oldest profession, but it is also one in which everyone — and I mean everyone — is involved. We do not all make our profession from sales, but we all sell in one way or another.
Returning to the food example, I remember my aunt trying to sell me on eating my peas when I was a young lad. She used such techniques as withholding dessert until my peas were gone. When that didn’t work, she wouldn’t let me get up from the table and play until I had cleaned my plate.
If only Eve had been as headstrong and stubborn as I was when it came to eating my peas.
Salesmanship is part of who I am. In grade school, I sold Christmas cards to my neighbors. In Cub Scouts, I pulled my Radio Flyer red wagon to the local Brown Shoe factory after school and sold peanut brittle when the factory let out at 4 p.m. Selling peanut brittle didn’t take much skill. I stood there, took the money, and handed over the product.
That is part of being a good salesperson, selling something that people already want. Eve didn’t need much coaxing to take the apple.
It was the summer of 1980 when I became serious about selling. Much to the chagrin of my mother, I was recruited by the Southwestern Book company out of Nashville, Tenn. to sell books. More specifically, to sell books door to door. This was a whole new ballgame.
After a week of training and motivation in Nashville, our group from the University of Missouri in Columbia was given the territory in West Virginia.
Less than half of us had cars. The long-distance made it harder for anyone to drop out and leave for home.
The books we sold that summer included educational books for elementary and high school students. We also sold a set of books with bible stories for younger children. Each set of books cost $50.00. In today’s value, that would be $86.30. Our commission was 50 percent. On a good day, I could sell five sets. On a bad day, nothing.
Out of that commission, I paid for my rent, food, and car expenses, including a new fuel pump, water pump, and two tires on the car.
Selling door to door, I learned a lot about myself and a lot about others.
Since that summer, I have sold advertising for The Columbia Missourian, The Monroe City News, The Hannibal Courier Post, The Gasconade County Republican, The Maries County Advocate and The Unterrified Democrat.
I enjoy selling newspaper advertising because of the relationship with the business owners. Because of this connection, we don’t use “hard” selling techniques. We can’t risk alienating the customer — we will be back within the next couple of weeks with another idea.
Our job in selling advertising is to create the best ad possible at the lowest price. If it’s something they want, the business owner says yes.
