Your price is not expensive. Their problem is expensive. The TCO case that proves it
Procurement will always compare your price to the cheap alternative. The TCO case changes what is being compared: not your price against theirs, but their problem against your number.
A pump startup founder once complained to me that procurement kept crushing his price. His unit cost €40k, the incumbent cost €12k, and every negotiation ended the same way: come back when you are closer to twelve. Then one plant manager, annoyed at a third failure that year, wrote down what a failure actually cost him. Eight hours of downtime at €9k an hour. A weekend crew. A scrapped batch. Expedited freight for the spare. His number came out past €200k per failure. The €40k pump never needed defending again.
That is a total cost of ownership case, and it is the only pricing argument that survives procurement. Everything else, the features, the specs, the innovation story, dies the moment a spreadsheet compares your price to the cheap one. TCO changes what is on the spreadsheet.
Procurement compares prices because you gave them nothing else
Procurement's job is to reduce the number on the quote. They are not cynical about your technology. They are indifferent to it, because indifference is the job. If the only numbers in the room are the two purchase prices, the cheaper one wins and everyone goes home.
The founder's mistake is arguing about the purchase price. You will lose that argument forever, because the incumbent is always cheaper on that line. The move is to expand the sheet: not what the thing costs to buy, but what the problem costs to keep. You are not selling a €40k pump. You are selling the end of €200k failures.
Build the case in their units, not yours
A TCO case that works is written in the customer's language. Not efficiency gains of fifteen percent, but hours of line downtime at their line rate. Not improved reliability, but failures per year multiplied by the cost of one failure, in euros they recognise. Scrap rate, energy per unit, maintenance hours, consumables, floor space, operator time. Every industry has its wound. Find it and price it.
The strong version uses their numbers, gathered in the room with them. Ask: how often does this fail, what happens when it does, who gets called, what does an hour of that line cost. When the customer fills in the figures themselves, the conclusion is theirs, and a conclusion the customer owns is unkillable in an internal meeting. The same logic as the value map, one step more formal.
Count the costs they have stopped seeing
The obvious costs are in their system: the purchase price of the incumbent, the maintenance contract. The decisive costs are usually invisible because they have been absorbed into how things work. The operator who babysits the old machine. The quality escapes that show up as customer complaints two quarters later. The spare parts inventory. The energy the legacy equipment burns because it was designed when energy was cheap.
Your job is to make the invisible lines visible and put a conservative number on each. Conservative matters. Inflate the savings and one sharp engineer will pull a thread and the whole case unravels. Undersell the number, and the case survives every audit, including the one finance runs after the pilot.
The payback line is where deals close
Every TCO case ends in one sentence: this pays for itself in X. Capex committees think in payback periods, and every industry has an unofficial threshold, usually somewhere between one and three years. Below the threshold, the deal is easy. Above it, you are asking for a strategic decision, which is a slower and more political animal.
So do the arithmetic before they do. Total cost of the problem, per year. Your price. Payback in months. If the payback is under their threshold, say it out loud in the meeting. If it is not, you have learned something vital early: at this account, at this price, the deal was never going to close, and you can spend your quarters somewhere the arithmetic works. That is what the capex process rewards: sellers who arrive with the committee's homework already done.
The spreadsheet is a sales rep that works while you sleep
Here is the compounding part. A good TCO model, built once, becomes a tool your champion wields internally. It answers the CFO's question before the CFO asks it. It turns the deal from your claim into their analysis. We have watched champions carry a well-built cost case into rooms we will never enter and win.
This is the work most deeptech companies skip, because it is commercial craft, not engineering. It is also exactly the work we do at SLSCRW: building the business case that survives procurement, in the customer's numbers, so the price stops being the conversation. If your deals keep dying in the spreadsheet, that is fixable.