The ACC First Call

Blue-edged blocks are the words to say. Amber italics are stage directions. Grey is coaching — never read it out. The Word document alongside this has the full alternates library: 137 other versions that have worked on real calls, grouped by purpose under each move.

Names. Use your first name only — never a surname, never the company name. Here "John" stands for the tradie and "Ryan" for whoever set the appointment.

Every single time. Not the thing you skip when you're busy. The setter has already had a real conversation with this man — what he's worried about, what cover he thinks he has, whether he sounded rushed or interested. Three minutes, and it's usually where your interesting question comes from. It also lets you open with what he already said instead of making him repeat himself.

Shareholders, incorporation date, registered address, any earlier companies. The shareholding drives the pitch later; the rest is where rapport comes from.

Licence classes and the year he qualified. Two carpentry licences plus roofing tells you something about the man. So does twenty years licensed.

Not an icebreaker off a list — a real question, about him, that you became curious about doing the three things above.

• Stand up when you call. It changes your voice.
• Smile before you speak. It's audible down the phone.
• Sound comfortable and unhurried, so it doesn't feel like an interruption.
• Call him like you already know him. Warm, familiar, first names.
• Slow down. The pauses are doing work — don't talk over them.

If you wouldn't answer the phone to yourself, start again.

"Hey John, it's [your first name]. How you going?"

First name only. A surname and a company name is exactly what every cold caller leads with, and it's the cue for the shutters to come down. First name, said warmly, sounds like someone he already knows. Don't say the company. Don't say "I'm calling from". Don't ask if it's a good time yet — that comes later, once he likes you.

(He asks you back — they always do. This is the moment.)

"Not bad. Got my feet up, talking to John. Could be worse."

(Then laugh.)

Everybody on earth answers that question the same way — "yeah, good thanks." Answer honestly, with a bit of humour, and you break the pattern he was braced for. He expected a pitch and got a person. Make him smile in the first fifteen seconds and every move after this lands in a different conversation.

• Answer honestly — whatever's actually true, said warmly.
• Land it on him ("talking to John") so he's in on the joke, not the target of it.
• Then laugh. If you don't laugh, it doesn't read as a joke.
• One line, then move on. Don't perform.

"I'm very well thanks, mate. Probably better than I deserve, really."

On one real call this made the tradie stop and ask "what's that?", and the two of them bantered for a minute before any business came up.

"You spoke to Ryan about customising your ACC levies."

(Pause. Say nothing. Let him acknowledge it.)

A statement, not a question. Delivered flat and then left alone, it invites him to say "oh yeah, yeah" — and that acknowledgement is a small yes. It's him stepping back into a conversation he already agreed to have. The pause is the entire move. Rush past it and you've taken the yes off him and it becomes your monologue.

"I had a look before I rang — [the question you actually want the answer to]."

(Let him talk. Listen properly.)

This is not an icebreaker off a list, and it won't work if you treat it as one. It's a real question, about him, that you became curious about while listening to the recording or reading his file. Two things happen: he talks about himself, which relaxes him; and you've proved you did work before you dialled, which no call centre ever does.

• It has to be a question you want answered. If you're not curious, he can hear it.
• Rapport only — no shareholding, no levies, no cover. That starts at move 7.
• One question, not three. A conversation, not a survey.
• Then shut up and listen. His answer is often where the whole meeting comes from.

"You've been going since 2011. That's a good run in this game — how did you get started?"

"I see you're licensed for carpentry and roofing. That's not a combination you see much — how did that come about?"

"I saw you had another company before this one — what happened there?"

Real ones that did this job: "How was Bali?" · "Was it cold down there this morning?" · "Are you on a big job at the moment, or going job to job?"

"Have you got a couple of minutes to talk, or are you under the pump?"

"Have you got your headphones on? Can I talk to you while you're working?"

A tradie on a site has one reason to end this call: he's busy and you're not. Naming it takes it off the table. "Are you on headphones" is the line that separates someone who's worked around tradesmen from someone reading a script — it says I know you can keep working while we talk, so the call costs him nothing. Note the order: you ask this after he's smiled and told you something about himself. By now he wants to give you the two minutes.

"Let me briefly outline what I do for my clients, and you can tell me whether I might be of advantage to you or not. I'll just start talking, and you stop me any time you want to ask a question."

The most important sentence in the pitch, and the one weaker advisors skip. It hands the verdict to the tradie before you've said anything. He's not being sold to — he's been appointed the judge. Every question he asks from here is him doing the job you gave him rather than resisting you.

"I see on the Companies Register that you and your wife are both shareholders in the business. Does your accountant use that to your advantage — allocating income to both of you to keep you under different tax bands?"

"And how do you pay yourself — PAYE wages, or drawings?"

Different job from move 4 — that was rapport, this is the diagnostic that decides which version of the pitch you give. Drawings means CoverPlus Extra is open, run the full play. PAYE wages means it's closed — pivot to the in-business cover. Ask it before you pitch; pitching CoverPlus Extra to a man on wages and then finding it doesn't apply costs you the credibility you just built.

"So you're the one out in the field earning the money. No disrespect to your wife, but you drive the business."

"So if you were out for a year, what you need is 80% of the profit of the business. But what you actually get is 80% of what the accountant allocated to you."

"And ACC goes up and down with your profit. Good year, good compensation. Bad year, bad compensation. But your life outside the business doesn't change — the mortgage and the kids don't care how the year went."

He already pays ACC and assumes that means he's covered. This converts a familiar cost into an unfamiliar gap. It's never abstract — it's his wife, his mortgage, his accountant's allocation. Deliver it flatly. It doesn't need selling.

"My job is to take you away from that, using CoverPlus Extra. It's still ACC, but it's agreed value — it's not based on profit any more."

"First advantage: right now your wife has to be on a construction classification. On CoverPlus Extra you can move her to admin, which is far cheaper. That's saving number one."

"Second: you gear yourself down to the absolute minimum, which is $42,000 a year. That's saving number two."

"Then I help you use part of those savings to put a loss of revenue cover inside the business. And that covers you for any health eventuality — not just accidents."

"So if you're making decent coin and we do that work, you should be spending less than you're spending on ACC levies now. You get cover for everything, and it costs you less than you're already paying."

Three concrete mechanics, counted out loud, so a man driving a ute can follow without a diagram. Then one sentence that does all the work: better cover, for less than you pay now. Say it slowly and then stop talking. Always name the $42,000 — a specific number reads as fact, a vague "the minimum" reads as a pitch.

"Have you got income protection sitting on the outside, in your personal portfolio?"

"Personal income protection in New Zealand has what's called offsets applied. Say you've got a policy paying $8,000 a month, and ACC is paying you $6,000. They take the $6,000 off the $8,000 before they pay you. So you get $2,000."

"And how many staff do you run? So if you're out for six months, your business isn't going to stop, is it? It keeps making profit — and that profit gets offset too."

"It's almost impossible for a self-employed person to claim on a personal income protection policy. Business policies don't have offsets. Personal ones in New Zealand do."

The differentiator, placed deliberately. "I've already got income protection" is the number one reason this call dies — so raise it yourself, before he can, and convert it from a reason to hang up into the reason to meet. Note what is never said: never that the other advisor was wrong. The ownership is wrong — the policy sits outside the business and should sit inside it. A fixable technicality, not an insult, so nobody has to defend a past decision.

"Here's the thing. Your business has actually become your income protection policy. As long as it keeps going, you keep getting paid."

"So if you're out for a long stretch, you're not really worried about the money coming in. You're worried about replacing your expertise, so the business keeps running and your reputation stays intact."

"What would it cost to replace you? A decent chippy is $80,000 to $100,000 — call it $8,000 a month. What does your cover pay? Can you replace yourself for that?"

(Let him do the maths out loud. Do not do it for him.)

"Better an insurance company pays for your replacement than you pay for it out of your own profit."

The question does the persuading, not you. He says the number out loud, compares it to his cover, and finds the shortfall himself. A gap a man works out on his own is a gap he believes.

"The person who helped you put your personal insurances in place — do you know them? Have you got a working relationship? Or was it five years ago and you've never seen them since?"

If he has a good one: "Then here's my suggestion. I never get in the middle of a working relationship. Take the information I've just given you and go and have that conversation with them."

Counter-intuitively the strongest trust move on the whole call, and the one advisors are most tempted to drop. A man who has just told you he'll hand the business back if you already have someone is a man you believe about everything else. It also filters out deals you were never going to win, before you spend an evening at a kitchen table. Ask it plainly and mean it.

"I'd like to sit down around the kitchen table one evening with you and your wife, once the kids are in bed, and ask you some more in-depth questions."

"Then I'll produce two statements of advice — one business, one personal — because you need to make sure your personal situation dovetails properly with your business one. You can take those to your accountant and do your due diligence."

"And if you think I know what I'm talking about, and you'd like to deal with me, then maybe we can do some work together."

The partner is written into the invitation — not invited later, part of the sentence that books the meeting. "Take it to your accountant" hands him a trusted third party to check you, which removes the pressure. And the close is conditional on him judging you, which closes the loop opened at move 6.

Across the 25 leads who reached a meeting: partner attended at least one meeting → 5 of 6 advanced to a statement of advice or beyond. Partner never attended → only 4 of 19. Measured, not modelled — from the 17 July 2026 conversion audit.

If you drop one line from this script, don't let it be this one.

"How old are your kids? Right — so how about after they're settled, say seven-thirty? Any nights we should avoid — rugby practice, anything like that?"

"One last question, so I don't make a fool of myself when I arrive on your doorstep — what's your wife's name?"

"I'll flick you an Outlook invite so it lands in your calendar. And I'll text you a couple of hours before. If it doesn't suit by then, no stress at all — just flick me a text and we'll move it. I only work for busy people."

The biggest leak in this business is people not turning up, and every line here is aimed at that. The kids' ages produce a time that survives contact with a family evening. The wife's name is a courtesy that also confirms she's expected. And "no stress, just text me" removes the shame that makes a man ghost you rather than move an appointment. A rescheduled meeting is worth everything; a silent no-show is worth nothing.

"ACC hate me, because I take money out of their mouth and put it into someone else's. I'm a broker with a specialisation in the ACC business space."

"You're correct — you can't be on CoverPlus Extra and on wages, because inside your PAYE wages is ACC. But there are real advantages to being on PAYE — it's KiwiSaver, and you can prove earnings to the bank for a mortgage far more easily. The disadvantage is you're stuck on the profit-versus-levies model. Whatever you decide, it'd be a good idea to have something inside the business that covers off everything anyway."

Never force it. Concede the constraint, credit his reasons, keep the in-business cover alive.

"Good — sounds like you've done the right thing. But maybe only half the job. Who owns that policy? If your business pays the premium, that's not the same as the business owning it."

"Half the job" praises him and opens a gap in the same breath.

"I understand — which is why ninety percent of people don't do it in the end. All I want to do is shout you a coffee at the worksite and have a bit of a chat."

Answer an effort objection by removing all his effort.

"Absolutely. I've got your appointment in my calendar — I'm going to move it out to Monday the seventeenth and we'll touch base then."

Never lose the slot. Move it while he's still on the phone.

"Sure. I know tradies, mate — I know you're under the pump. So if it's okay with you, I'll touch base early next week and just rehash the conversation, see whether we want to meet."

The next action is always yours. Never leave it as "call me when you've spoken to her" — name the day you'll ring, and diarise it.

"Do ACC still pay out for that? No? Then if a new policy carries an exclusion on your neck, you're no worse off — because ACC were never going to pay you for it anyway."

Turns the thing he thinks disqualifies him into a non-issue.

Two calls ran the full pitch — one for nearly an hour — before the advisor asked how the man pays himself and found he was on wages. Both were dead from the first sentence. Move 7 comes off the Companies Register before you dial, not out of a question halfway down the call.

Two advisors gave a monthly figure. Both calls turned instantly into a price shop and both ended in an email. A number gives him something to compare instead of a reason to meet — and he compares it against something you cannot see. Numbers belong at the table.

One call took dates of birth, heights, weights, both incomes, family medical history, wills, powers of attorney, trusts and a risk-tolerance score — and still ended with "I'll get back to you next week". Everything you take on the phone is a reason he no longer needs to sit down with you.

11 of 17, accepted as an outcome every time. It is the polite no. Agree to send it, then ask for the meeting anyway — "I'll flick that over tonight. What are you doing Thursday evening?"

Move 5 is missing from 15 of 17 calls, and you can hear the cost — one man on a roof, one walking into a golf round, one flying out the next day, one on a line so bad he caught half the words. All got the full explanation. All said call me another time.

"Good — I like that. Put it past your accountant, he'll tell you the pros and cons."

"The one thing I'd keep in your mind is this: however you keep doing it, it'd be a good idea to have something inside the business that covers off everything anyway."

"And even if you do nothing else — gear your ACC down to the minimum. You're keeping money in your own pocket."

A no today isn't a no forever, and how you leave decides whether you're welcome back. Give away one genuinely useful thing on the way out — it costs you nothing and means he remembers you as the bloke who helped, not the bloke who pitched.

0. BEFORE — listen to the recording · registers · one real question
1. "Hey John, it's [your name]." First name only
2. Pattern interrupt — answer honestly, then laugh
3. "You spoke to Ryan about your ACC levies" → STOP
4. The question you find interesting → listen
5. "Couple of minutes, or under the pump?" · headphones
6. "You tell me if I'm any advantage to you"
7. Companies Register · wages or drawings?
8. "80% of what was allocated — not 80% of the profit"
9. CoverPlus Extra · admin · minimum $42,000 · loss of revenue cover
10. Offsets — "almost impossible to claim" · who owns it?
11. "What would it cost to replace you?"
12. "Have you got someone already?" — and mean it
13. Kitchen table · both of you · two SOAs
14. Kids' bedtime · wife's name · invite · text before

This call does not sell insurance. It sells one evening at a kitchen table with both decision-makers present. Every line above is bent toward that single outcome. An advisor who tries to close the policy on this call will lose the meeting — and the meeting is where the money is.