Our family moved to Melbourne almost five years ago. By some happy accident, we ended up finding the perfect home—an 1850’s terrace, one of the first houses to be built in the city.

The house next door has been empty since we moved in. The elderly couple who raised their family in it had hardly updated it in seventy years. We knew it would be sold one day and the new owners would renovate. We looked forward to seeing the old home restored to its former glory. But we were dreading the day the builders arrived with their jackhammers.

The house sold last winter and the builders arrived a few weeks ago. They are still at the demolition phase, and I have no idea about the quality of their workmanship yet. But we’re more at ease about how the building work next door might affect us—not because it won’t, but because of how the builders are going about it.

It turns out that the builders are wonderful. They do everything they can not to disturb us and reassure us that they will make good on things that affect our property. It’s their character, not their competence that makes them stand out.

Character is what we choose to do.

As individuals and brands, we’re judged by our character, not just our competence.

How does your character differentiate you?

Image by Pictr73