If you mention you’re a magician, you’re not asked for an explanation. You’re asked for a demonstration. “Let’s see a trick.”

That’s because magic is a demonstration business. You can’t just take someone’s word for it. Without a demo, there is no magic. You’re just making a claim. You have to prove yourself right then and there, with no time to prepare.

That idea, giving people an impromptu experience of your abilities, shows up all over my work as a differentiation consultant and business strategist. It’s why I often give clients an exercise I created called “What’s your parlor trick?” or sometimes, “What’s your Houdini trick?”

I ask them this: Suppose you’re at a party and you meet someone who could be critical to the future of your business. An important stranger. What could you do in five minutes that would give that person a visceral understanding of how good you are at your job?

Not a pitch. Not a résumé. An actual, on-the-spot demo. Something that makes them say, “Oh, wow. Now I get it.”

In other words, what small business-related miracle could you perform at the drop of a hat?

I once asked that question of a client who specializes in subscription models. So I tested her. I’d name a business. Any business. A manufacturer. A bicycle rental shop. A yoga studio. A niche software company. She’d pause for a beat, ask one or two precise questions, and then talk. In a few minutes, she’d lay out a subscription model that made the business feel crystal clear. Why someone would join. Why they’d stay. What would make it hard to leave. You could hear the logic click as she spoke.

That, repeated across wildly dissimilar businesses, was her demo.

Later, when it came time to write her books, the instinct wasn’t to explain subscription models in the abstract. It was to recreate that experience on the page. The range of examples came directly from those conversations. You could hear her thinking at work the same way you could when she was doing it live.

Most people try to explain why they’re good at what they do. Magicians know the explanation comes second. First, you show.

And the parlor trick is usually smaller than people expect. It’s often the thing you do so easily you don’t think it counts. Or the thing people keep coming back to you for. Or the part of your work that feels almost playful, which is why you’ve never formalized it. Those are usually the clues.

If you can’t do a small miracle in five minutes, it’s hard for people to believe in a bigger one later. And if you can, you don’t have to convince anyone of anything. Your parlor trick does the talking.