13 August 2026
If you’re reading this, there’s a fair chance somebody told you to.
Most of our new business comes by word of mouth. Google works and marketing matters, but when somebody puts their name next to yours and tells a person they actually know to give you a call, that means more than any campaign ever will. It’s also the only kind of growth you can’t buy. So it’s worth writing down how it happens.
The bloke who taught me
I worked with him for about twelve months, a long time ago now. His business ran entirely on referral. If someone needed a strata manager, people would say, “Speak to him.” That was just what people said, because they trusted him.
He’s also the reason I ended up in strata at all. A conversation with him made the move make sense and, within about a week, I’d fallen for the profession. I still love it, sincerely, which I’m told is an odd thing to say about strata.
What I took from that year wasn’t technical. He knew the Act as well as anyone, but never felt the need to prove it. Meetings started with asking how everyone was. He knew people’s families, remembered what was happening in their lives, and made time for the conversation before getting into the agenda.
When the technical part came up, he didn’t recite sections of legislation or talk over people. He translated it. His job was to make strata simple enough that owners understood what was happening and could make their own decisions, rather than agreeing with him because he was the one holding the Act.
Strata is simple. People make it hard.
He was the same inside the office. If you were stuck, someone would tell you to go and see him, and he’d stop what he was doing and help. If he genuinely couldn’t, he’d tell you when he could, and he’d come back when he said he would. When he did, you had his attention.
He never behaved like he was the point. The client was the point. Doing the job properly and looking after people was the point. His reputation was simply what came from doing those things consistently.
That’s not a strategy I came up with. It was his business model. He built a career on it without ever running a campaign.
What that looks like here
A story about a good manager is worth very little on its own. Here’s what it turns into in practice, which is the part you can hold us to.
We cap portfolios. Fewer schemes per manager than the industry standard. A manager carrying too many plans can’t give any of them proper time, and no amount of good intent fixes that arithmetic.
We take no insurance commissions and no brokerage income. Our advice on insurance earns us nothing either way. That’s the only way it’s worth anything to you.
One bundled management fee. You’re told what it covers before you sign, and the small number of things charged separately are listed in writing. Nothing turns up later that nobody mentioned.
We answer. Phone, email, in person. If we can’t deal with something straight away, we tell you when we will, and then we do.
We give you the direct answer. Including when it costs us money, and including when it isn’t what a committee was hoping to hear. If a manager only tells you what you want to hear, you’ll still get the bad news eventually. It’ll just cost more by then.
What we’re actually trying to be
Bettr Strata didn’t exist thirteen months ago. I think about his example more now than I did at the time.
I don’t want this to be the biggest strata business in New South Wales. I want it to be the one people trust. The one that answers. The one that tells you the truth about what something costs, and puts customer service first, second and third. Do that properly and the rest has a habit of looking after itself.
Anyone starting out in strata should be lucky enough to get a year like the one I had. I was, and I’m still chasing his standard. I expect I always will be.
I won’t name him. He’d hate the attention, and he’s earned the right not to have it.
John Martin Founder and Managing Director, Bettr Strata