Customer Service

Brother, how can I help you?

We’ve all enjoyed stellar service.  Not long ago my friend Jim remarked to me how tickled he was following a call he’d just made to Nike.  Interestingly, the agent couldn’t help Jim locate the shoe model he was looking for, but that didn’t really matter.  Despite the disappointment (Lord, save us from more black sneakers), Jim closed the call feeling hunky-dory.  Fact is, the dude had Jim at: “Brother, how can I help you tonight?”  It was 11:30pm on a Sunday, a real Jerry Maguire moment.

Late-night weekend friendliness may not be what you’d expect from a big brand.  But as a consumer, when did we become conditioned to expecting less?  How did we resign ourselves to tolerate substandard treatment?

Did you read our FAQ?  Use the community forms?  Submit a support ticket, then.

Last week I had something funky going on with PayPal.  Three emails and two phone calls (replete with a jacked-up IVR experience, thanks to the robo-menu) I was well on my way to mad when someone finally solved the issue.  While I never got clear explanation as to the cause, I *did* receive an obligatory “Will you rate your service?” survey link via email.  Huh?

So we have one big brand that surprised and delighted.  And we have another big brand that made issue resolution complicated, lengthy, unsatisfying, and vaguely insulting (I took their blinking survey, and for the record it was the longest in history, adding insult to my injury).

Rather than consider the PayPal issue an isolated case, in my mind I’m connecting it to other thought fragments to develop a bigger brand impression – the difficulties I’ve had canceling recurring subscriptions, the less-than-intuitive account interface.  PayPal’s ubiquity makes use a necessity.  I’m not a PayPal account holder with an affinity for the brand; I’m an account holder with limited choices.  There is no brand love, and that can make all the difference.

A customer is a customer is a customer.

All sales are not created equal.  A brand curries no favor when it holds a monopoly (or is otherwise the exclusive supply source) which forces a certain behavior (purchase) from consumers.  Yeah, okay, so you got the buck.  That’s a short-term win at best.  Consider the lifetime value of reinforcing a positive impression with a committed customer versus the value from an isolated or begrudged transaction.

Listen to the little people.

The point – in this increasingly social economy, user-fed outposts like Yelp and OpenTable provide microphones to amplify the voices of the little people. If the Nike example above is representative of most customer service calls, then it stands to reason those aggregated voices equate to positive brand impressions.

Disjointed operations and half-baked efforts (like I feel my PayPal experience was) will become increasingly obvious.  I’m willing to bet that as financial straits groom more cautious (and conscientious) consumer spending patterns, our tolerance for low quality customer experiences will weaken.

They’ll talk.  Do you like what they have to say?

Simple negligence, shoddy efforts, or intentional deceit (the fine print a legal team can’t decipher), these practices will indeed catch up to companies.  I think it’s best to do some housecleaning now and build a framework of turn-key practices with an eye on winning and keeping customers.

Mix it up

This post was inspired by (eyes averted) a country song by a band called Little Big Town.  I’m definitely not a country fan as a rule, but this band has a bit of a groove and some southern rock influences that make me think of home (their track “Boondocks” is a simple pleasure that’ll make you want to stop your WiFi service, if only for 4:36).  The song “Bones” is really about a man/woman relationship but has real implications for business.

What goes around, Comes around.  

Feel it breathing down heavy on you.

You made that bed you’re laying on, Deeds that you have done now you can’t undo.

You got bones in your closet, You got ghosts in your town

Ain’t no doubt yeah they’re gonna come out

They’re waiting for the sun to come down.

You can’t hide from your demons, Feel them all lurking around

You’re running scared because you know they’re out there

They’re waiting for the sun to go down.

It’s a long and hard row to hoe when seeds that you sow grow by the wicked moon.

Be sure your sins will find you out.

The past will hunt you down and return to tell on you.

It all stands to reason that every dog will have his day.

But your day is leavin’

Better hold on tight, here comes the night.

For kicks and grins, I’m going to try to start a little meme.  I’ll tag a few people and ask that they write a post inspired by the lyrics of a song, and tag 3 to 5 others to do the same. I think songwriting may be one of the most admirable areas of content creation.  It took me 898 words to say what I mean in this post, while good songwriters often express complex thoughts in just a hundred.

Amber Naslund, Brass Tack Thinking (star-quality wits and smarts with a love for music)

Paul Squires, Perini (funny, outgoing, and a newish Twitter find for me ((plus the accent))

Kellye Crane, Solo PR Pro (full of Southern charm and serious PR chops)

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