Half term, Netflix, and the marketing lesson I did not expect
“A teenage question during a Netflix binge became the clearest explanation of value I’ve heard in years. Why ‘I’ll do it myself’ almost always costs more than you think.”
It’s February half term, which in our house usually means swimming, cinema, and at some point all four of us on the sofa watching something none of us would have chosen alone.
This week it was King of Collectibles: The Goldin Touch on Netflix. If you haven’t seen it: big-ticket memorabilia, an auction house built on reputation, and Ken Goldin doing deals that would make your eyes water.
One of the lads had a question.
“Why would you pay them money? I’d just sell it myself.”
He was genuinely baffled. Not cynical — just logical. On the surface, the maths looked simple: you have a thing, someone wants a thing, why does a middleman need a slice?
So I explained. The auction house markets the item, vets it, hosts the sale, chases the bidders, handles the payments. In return, they take commission. His reaction was immediate and absolute.
“That’s mad. I’d just list it myself.”
And honestly, I get it. You can list an item online. You can write a description. You can post about it and wait.
But here’s what he was missing. You’re not paying for the listing. You’re paying for the platform.
Without Goldin’s reach, you have a smaller pool of buyers. Without their credibility, serious buyers might not trust what they’re seeing. Without their audience, you never create the competition that pushes the price up. The auction house isn’t just marketing the sale. It’s doing three things at once: putting your item in front of buyers you can’t easily reach, acting as a credible middle ground so buyers feel confident, and creating the competitive environment that makes auctions work in the first place.
You’re not paying for a poster. You’re paying for access, trust, and momentum.
The second I said it, I realised I have this exact conversation at work. Regularly.
People talk about campaigns like they’re made of words. “Let’s run a campaign.” “Can we push it on social?” “Can we just announce it?” And then, quietly: “There’s no budget for it.”
It’s the marketing version of my twelve-year-old. The instinct isn’t wrong — nobody’s trying to be difficult. People are trying to be resourceful. They look at a platform and think the cost is optional. But cost doesn’t disappear. It just moves.
If you don’t invest in reach, you invest in time. If you don’t invest in credibility, you invest in proof. If you don’t invest in momentum, you invest in repetition.
Goldin Auctions can charge commission because it already has the crowd. It’s spent years building an audience that shows up — relationships, reputation, a reason for people to pay attention. That’s what most organisations are really trying to build when they say “we need marketing.” Not a campaign. A crowd.
And crowds don’t appear because you built a nice webpage or posted a good video. They’re built by showing up regularly, investing in distribution, being clear and useful over time, and earning trust before you need it.
“We’ve said it” is not the same as “they’ve heard it.” “They’ve heard it” is not the same as “they’ve understood it.” “They’ve understood it” is not the same as “they’ve acted on it.”
If you want action, you have to resource the message. That might mean budget. It might mean partners who already have the audience you don’t. It might mean a longer runway than feels comfortable.
Either way, the principle holds.
You can do it yourself. But you can’t do it for free.
Because free usually means limited platform, limited credibility, limited reach. And hoping the right bidder happens to scroll past.