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Living in the slow lane on the information superhighway
My broadband was restored last week, after being down for three weeks.
Yes, that’s right. Three whole weeks.
But there’s nothing more tedious than a rant about bad customer service, is there? So I’ll spare you the ins and outs of the sorry saga.
Instead, I’ll turn it on its head, and tell you what it taught me about service – and about myself.
Service (without a smile)
Good service – whatever it is you do, whatever you sell – really isn’t all that difficult.
But it’s not one big thing – instead, it’s all the little things. And getting those right means having a plan, setting goals and making sure you meet them.
So if I were sharing a skinny latte with the Big Boss of my ISP, what would I tell him (or her)?
- Train your staff. Is there anything more trust-busting than being told by a second support person that the first person you spoke to was ‘new, and may have got it wrong’? Learning on the job is part of the job; learning at the customer’s expense is dangerous and damaging. So train them first, then release them into the wild.
- Tell the truth (even when you’d really rather not). The truth is your secret weapon – even when it’s bad. Hiding an embarrassing truth is worse than telling it with openness and honesty. An open-kimono approach works every time (metaphorically, you understand).
- Get your story straight (and stick to it). Do BT engineers work on Saturday and Sunday? Search me. I was told yes, then no, then maybe. Can support people talk to BT? Yes, then no. Would I get SMS updates? Yes, maybe. But not always. Not really. A simple story has a unique and winning quality – its simplicity.
- Organise your company around the customer. Yes, OK, they work shifts, and they’re sometimes off sick. And what if they get run over by a bus? Or they leave? All these things could happen, but it doesn’t mean teams can’t be organised into cells of 2-3 people who are instantly familiar with specific problems. It means that customers don’t have to endlessly explain their problems to a new person.
- Use technology. Especially if you’re a technology company. If I can see that my friend Sally is calling on my landline, why can’t they? Better still, why can’t my incoming number fire up their database and bring up my record? And why is the database so slow (I’m just waiting for the record to come up, sir)?
- Don’t pass the buck (even internally). No, it’s not support, it’s accounts. It’s our faults department. It’s BT Wholesale. It’s BT Openreach. It’s the exchange people. It’s the call centre, you see. Your company is a blob, Mr ISP – one big blob that I see as a brand. So make sure that Blob Inc. does its stuff seamlessly.
- Be pleasant, open and helpful – even when the shells are coming in and you want to hunker down in the bunker. Smile even though you’re on the phone. And here’s a thought: listen. Pick up on the signals and ‘mirror’ the language and tone of the speaker (yes, it’s an NLP thing – and it works).
- Communicate. OK, you’re doing stuff, and the problem’s in hand. But does the customer know? If not, why not? Send a quick email, update the support ticket, let them know about that stuff. Manage their expectations, and they’ll never be disappointed.
- Don’t forget the value of existing customers. New customers are expensive and difficult to find. So why alienate existing customers needlessly? Treat them well and they’ll stay forever.
- Don’t wait until people shout – because when they’re shouting, they tend not to listen. And other people hear. Shouting is what I did in the end, when I posted a damning message in my ISP’s discussion forum (it worked).
Warts and all
So what did I learn about myself? Well quite a lot, actually. Living in the slow lane of the information superhighway wasn’t all bad.
My three weeks of subsonic internet access taught me:
- You can’t do two things at once – though super-fast broadband makes you think you can. Multi-tasking is multi-stressing, and being forced to do one thing at a time made me calmer, more focused and more organised.
- Having a backup plan, like a nuclear deterrent, gives you a warm fuzzy feeling. You know it’s there if you need it. In my case, my nuke was my Nokia, which give me reliable, if slow-ish, access to the internet, used as a modem for my PC.
- Don’t get angry at bad service. If you do, you lose twice over. And no, I’m not going to say get even instead. Just accept it for what it is, and if you’ve got a problem, focus on the resolution, not the obstacles along the way.
- Think laterally. When I was dealing with the support team, I was working in a walled garden. Worse, a soundproofed (think Truman Show) walled garden where nobody could hear my screams. When I changed tactics and shouted from the rooftops in a public forum, help materialised as if by magic, and the problem was quickly resolved. Think laterally and you beat the system.
- Take a break – from the online world, that is. Offline really isn’t that bad. You learn to slow down, read more carefully, not flit from one thing to another. You concentrate better, feel more centred and don’t feel as frazzled at the end of the day. Since my broadband came back, my browsing habits have changed. I spend less time online, and get more out of my day.
So bad service wasn’t all bad. Even forcing myself to see the positive in a very negative situation (which goes against the grain in a serial moaner, I can tell you) changed how I see things.
I even discovered that with a Starbucks card, you get free wifi. So now I’ve got another reason to go for a grande skinny decaf extra-hot wet latte.
As if I needed one.
Find out more:
Authenticity and the art of looking the part
“The really depressing bit for me,” said my friend, “was to hear the word authenticity used as a marketing term. Something is either authentic or it isn’t.”
He wasn’t talking about mobile phones or cars, life coaches or insurance salesmen. No, it was worse – much worse.
Politicians.
We’d both heard the same edition of Analysis on BBC Radio 4, which talked about pitching for the female vote in the upcoming general election. Its title, Babies and Biscuits, was inspired by David Cameron’s appearance on Mumsnet, a million-strong online network of mothers.
Mothers with votes.
Questions ranged from childcare vouchers to ID cards, with brief detours via nappies (aka diapers) and his favourite biscuit (he had an answer he prepared earlier – unlike Gordon Brown in the Biscuitgate scandal).
Perception is reality
Authenticity is on everybody’s lips these days. Everybody wants to be real, honest, and open – or at least, to appear so.
So we’re all doing the open-kimono thing, trying to show the real us, trying to connect with prospects.
My gym certainly is. LA Fitness have mugshots of real staff members plastered all over the gym, the web and in magazine advertising. Real people, warts and all.
Estate agent Carter Jonas has taken the same approach, relaunching its brand so the focus is not property, but…you got it, people.
So Sinéad likes Latin American dancing and Marie is a champion golfer. Geoff sails dinghies and Kevin enjoys cooking (he’s welcome to it).
Does this all feel authentic to you?
No, me neither. You get the feeling they’re trying too hard to be something they’re not. And by shoehorning them into roles they – and we – feel uncomfortable with, nobody’s being done any favours.
Easy does it
The thing about being honest and open is that it’s a hard sell. Tell somebody you’re honest, and their instinct is to doubt you. Why is he telling me this?
It’s a bit like telling somebody you’re talented. Isn’t that something they should be able to work out for themselves?
Going back to basics is another option. I’ve lost count of the number of times people have said to me I want to be more like Innocent.
Innocent Drinks, that is. With the cute cartoons and the cutesy taglines. It works very well – for them.
But here’s the thing. It isn’t the result of some focus group or creative brainstorm. It’s not designed to deceive or deflect. It’s a simple idea, with a simple execution.
And I do think it’s authentic. In fact, unless I was being spun to, I know it is.
Years ago, I bumped into one of the Innocents at a networking event in London. An ex-teacher, he’d abandoned the classroom and thrown himself into smoothies instead (metaphorically speaking, you understand).
And when it came to copy, he decided to give it a go himself. He’d keep it simple, straightforward and… innocent.
And it worked.
But that bandwagon has passed, and it’s too late to jump on. So don’t. Instead, create your own, start a trend and set yourself apart.
Be authentic, but do it your way.
And remember that being is one thing – doing is another. You’ve got to deliver, otherwise you’re just a likeable incompetent.
As Seth says:
… ‘being’ is too amorphous and we are notoriously bad at judging that. Internal vision is always blurry. Doing, on the other hand, is an act that can be seen by all.
Can I quote him on that? Oh yes, I just did.
And finally
So was Cameron being authentic, or just playing the game in a cynical attempt to garner votes?
Well, June 3rd is the last date on which an election can take place. So on the morning of the 4th, we’ll see how the cookie crumbles.
Or the biscuit. (Mine’s a ginger nut, by the way.)
Find out more:
OOBEs and the Art of Thinking Like They Do
Remember the last time you saw a photo of yourself? I’m betting you didn’t like it. Maybe it was a bad angle, or the light wasn’t too good. Maybe you were caught unawares. Or maybe you just don’t like being photographed (I know where you’re coming from).
But another part, a big part of seeing a photo of ourselves, is that we don’t recognise ourselves. Why not? Because everything’s in reverse, the wrong way round.
Except it’s not.
That parting on the left-hand side is actually on the right in real life. The freckle on your nose is actually where it looks like it is. And your good side is actually your bad side.
The thing that throws us is that we’re seeing ourselves as others see us.
And that’s always a bit of a shock to the system.
Dog bites man
When you’re putting your message out, you need to have a little out-of-body experience now and then. In fact, the more often you do it, the better.
A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, I worked for a big software company. For a product launch, our ad agency – a bunch of hip dudes and dudesses with more attitude than a classful of teenagers – came up with a great series of adverts.
Everybody loved them.
But the one that caught my eye featured a man tussling with a woman, topped off with what (to me, at least) looked like a slightly sexist headline.
It was daring, different and what would nowadays be called ‘edgy’ (back then, edgy meant irritable).
I thought it wouldn’t work, and said so. All eyes in the room turned on me, like a pack of ravening hyenas.
I stood my ground, repeated my opinion, and left it at that.
Two weeks later, I was sitting behind a two-way mirror with my colleagues watching a focus group run through the ads. When they came to the sexist one, I held my breath. But I think I was the only one – everybody else was convinced the ad would go down a storm.
It didn’t. It bombed from the very start.
And oddly enough, it was the men who thought it was most unacceptable. Perhaps it was because they were in mixed company. Perhaps it was because they knew there were under observation.
Or perhaps it was because it really was an awful advert.
Whatever the reason, its fate was sealed there and then, and it headed for cutting-room floor.
And the campaign? It was a huge success, boosting software sales and winning awards.
Step away from the campaign, sir
So what if you can’t afford a focus group? Well why not:
- Phone a friend. Ask an acquaintance, family member or networking contact. Try not to prejudice them by over-explaining the concept (you won’t have that luxury with real prospects).
- Walk away from it. Leave it for a day, weekend or a week. I guarantee it’ll look different after you’ve taken a break.
- Get round the other side of your desk. No, really, I mean it. If you have space, get round there now. Be somebody else – taller, shorter, female, male, older, younger. Pretend you’re not yourself and look at it as objectively as you can. You’ll be surprised what emerges.
- Ask your clients. After all, they’re the ones who are destined to see it. Pick a few key clients that you know and trust, and run the idea by them. They’ll be chuffed you asked, and you’ll get some great insights.
And if you’re still not sure? Do a Dr Pepper (what’s the worst that could happen?).
Run it anyway, but be prepared to make changes. Measure from Day 1, and make course adjustments. Stay nimble and agile. Set yourself a cut-off date, and if it’s not working, and you’ve tried everything, jettison it and move on.
Third degree (honorary)
If you call me with a great idea for a campaign you’d like to run, don’t be surprised if I ask questions. Lots of them.
It’s not that I don’t think you’ve got a great idea – it’s just that it’s the first time I’ve heard it, and I’m standing back, then getting up close, kicking the tyres and running my hand over it.
It allows me to see it objectively, evaluate it, and gain some perspective. And it allows you do to the same.
Wow, said a potential client recently, you’re so clever. You ask things I’d never even think of.
Clever, me? Maybe. But actually I’m asking questions from a position of complete ignorance.
Which is just another name for objectivity.
But don’t tell anyone.
Find out more:
- Two wrongs might make a right. Yes, you can make mistakes – in fact, you should, otherwise you’re not trying. Check out Sunny Bates on Linchpins, Passion and Fear and you’ll see what I mean.
- Feedback frenzy. Diamond Shreddies vs. Square Shreddies – can you tell the difference? They can (well they think they can, and that’s all that matters).
New is good. It’s also bad. Let me explain…
There was a minor revolution in central London last week.
On 2 November, after a two-year, £5m ($8.35m/€5.6m) makeover, the all-new Oxford Circus opened.
(Note: If you’re thinking big top, clowns and bearded ladies, think again. Oxford Circus is just a junction, much like Piccadilly Circus. Not a performing elephant or dancing bear in sight.)
The new Oxford Circus layout is based on the famous Shibuya crossing in Tokyo. Not only can you cross horizontally (Regent Street) and vertically (Oxford Street), you can now cross diagonally too.
For 30 whole seconds, traffic is stopped in all directions. That’s when you make a dash for it, and hope you reach H&M before you’re taken out by a bendy bus.
With 40,000 people an hour using the crossing at peak time, something had to be done. But it’s a revolutionary concept for Londoners and tourists alike, and it takes some getting used to.
On the first day, most people crossed the old way – vertically and horizontally. It’ll take time for people to learn how it works, and to feel comfortable with the idea.
Why?
Because new is different. New is scary. New is…well, new.
Double-edged
If you’ve come up with an idea for a product or service that’s new, innovative and revolutionary, well done.
The good news is that you’ve got something nobody else has.
That’s also the bad news.
Nobody’s ever heard of it. Nobody knows how it works. Or even if it works at all.
Some people will dive right in: the early adopters. They’re the ones that simply must have it precisely because it’s new. They like to be on the cutting edge, even if they get cut.
But others – the vast majority, in fact – will wait. And if the early adopters aren’t enough to sustain you, you have to work hard to get the rest to buy in to your idea.
How? By explaining it. Then explaining it again. And again.
When the Barclaycard credit card was launched in the UK in the 1960s, the very idea of credit was alien to most people.
It’s hard to believe now, but back then, buying things ‘on tick’ or ‘on the never-never’ – on credit, that is – carried a social stigma that most people wanted to avoid.
So Barclays launched a major advertising campaign to explain to people that credit cards were the way of the future.
And people listened. All too well, as it turned out: the UK now has the highest rate of credit-card debit per household of any country in Europe.
Box clever
New ideas have a lot going for them. But as you prepare your launch, your opening or your marketing campaign, don’t ever underestimate the shock of the new.
Take cardboard furniture. Cardboard what?
Yes, you heard right – cardboard furniture. It’s cheap, easy to assemble, environmentally friendly and funky. And it’s here right now.
How about bacon-and-eggs ice-cream? Snail porridge? Cauliflower with chocolate?
Welcome to the wonderful world of Heston Blumenthal.
You see where I’m going with this.
When you’ve got a great idea, you quickly get used to the concept. Of course you do. You’ve been living with it 24 hours a day since it was an embryonic idea, zinging around in your hyperactive brain.
But they don’t know the first thing about it.
So make it easy for them:
- Simplify. Explain your great new idea in small, easily understandable chunks. Don’t over-complicate.
- Convince. Find the benefits of your great new idea (lower costs, cleaner environment, less hassle, easier to use, scalability) and hammer them home.
- Summarise. Use bullet points, headings, boxes and anything else that reduces the information you need to convey to bite-sized chunks.
- Repeat. New is daunting and unfamiliar. So make it undaunting and familiar. Repeat your key messages, say the same thing in several different ways, and hold the reader’s hand throughout the process.
- Demonstrate. Draw a diagram – by hand, if you can. It’s more informal and user-friendly. Include photos, illustrations and anything else that demystifies and explains.
- Think ahead. If you were a potential customer, what questions would you want answers to? What reasons can you come up with not to use your great new idea? Find them, answer them, neutralise them.
On your marks
Meanwhile, back on London’s bright and shiny new crossing, people were taking their first tentative steps. Boris Johnson, the unstoppable Mayor of London, was convinced it was a great idea:
“We are very confident that this will work well – once people have got the hang of it.”
If they get the hang of it.
A community police officer, who didn’t want to be named, was less sanguine:
“It’s based on the assumption that everyone’s going to act intelligently, which is quite an assumption to make.”
Ouch.
Find out more:
Social networking and the Great Divide
Three cheers for George Clooney. Not for those irritating coffee adverts (no, it’s not like real coffee, George) but for his comments about Facebook.
It’s so comforting to know I’m not alone. You see, George recently told reporters at the Toronto International Film Festival:
“I would rather have a prostate exam on live television by a guy with very cold hands than have a Facebook page.”
I’m not sure I’d go that far, but I’m with him on this one – in spirit, at least, if not actual body.
It seems to me that people fall into two camps: those who ‘get’ social networking, and those who don’t. And I don’t.
Don’t get me wrong – I think socialising is great. I think networks are great. But social networking does freak me out ever so slightly. Too much noise, too many people, too much like addiction.
As I have a naturally addictive streak, I have to steer clear of social networking. Otherwise, I’d be one of those jumpy, swivel-eyed, always-on geeks who can never unplug from The Machine.
That said, I can understand the attraction for some.
Those who know how to consommer avec modération, as French wine bottles say. But in a purely social, personal context, as part of their playtime.
Fun Inc.
Which is why I’m doubly confused when it comes to corporate social networking.
Maybe, just maybe, for fun, funky, twentysomething or thirtysomething brands, it’s a cool place to be. That’s probably why Starbucks has 4.5m (yes, count ‘em) fans on its Facebook page.
It’s slightly less popular on Twitter, with 361,691 followers, but that’s still a pretty respectable number.
And there’s no doubting, it’s fun. People can hang out in those virtual armchairs and swap favourite latte combinations, or bemoan the demise of banana nut muffins in the UK.
But what about more serious brands? How do they fare?
Are we having fun yet?
UK furniture chain Habitat tried to jump on the Twitter bandwagon in June 2009. It posted tweets using hashtags ‘Iran’ and ‘Mousavi’ (popular searches at the time) to redirect people to furniture promotions.
What were they thinking? In a statement, the company said it had ‘never sought to abuse Twitter’.
Of course not.
Ford has embraced Twitter enthusiastically, with not one, but seven feeds. Its FordCustService (yes, that’s Ford Customer Service) feed includes such riveting updates as ‘Get your vehicle the coverage it deserves. Find out about our Extended Service Plans’ and ‘Protect your investment by staying on top of your vehicle’s needs’.
I’ll have to think about that one.
Dell promotes offers on its DellOutlet feed, which is worth following if you’re looking for a bargain. And US airline JetBlue offers Twitter-based customer service.
But is it just me, or do all these feeds fall a little flat? Can you really see yourself getting updates on your mobile/cellphone to find out what reports Forrester Research is releasing?
I can’t.
Like a hopelessly uncool parent trying to impress your schoolfriends, companies on social networks often fail to convince. The ones who pull it off, like Starbucks and Southwest Airlines, are those lucky companies that make people forget work.
And that’s the key, I think.
Fun brands work on social networks. Serious ones don’t, and come across like Big Brother trying to manage the message 24×7.
And in the end, it’s still a case of personal preference. Either you get it or your don’t. And on that score, I’m with George.
But warm those hands up first. Please.
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