Sunday, October 19, 2014

love me

I'm not liking this new trend in customer service where every product I use wants my constant feedback. Don't get me wrong--when I'm fired up about something, I relish a platform to speak my mind. However, when I don't have a particularly strong feeling about the way my online chat with a Sprint representative met my minimum expectations, just about anything sounds more fun than taking a brief survey to rate on a scale of 1-10 how adequately Raj in New Delhi answered my question today.

I get it: You need to be able to identify where customers aren't satisfied so you can make the changes you need to keep them. But endless probing about your performance comes off as a little needy and insecure, like the significant other always asking his/her partner, "You still love me, right?"

For some companies, it's not enough to get feedback and fix problems where they exist. No, some companies demand perfection. If you don't give them an "excellent" rating for every category, they want to know why or what they can do better. I'll tell you why. Because excellence means doing more than simply what I asked. For that, you're "average," maybe even "good." It's like when you were in school and the whole class did badly on a test and asked the teacher to grade it on a curve, and then the teacher said you wouldn't want that if you knew what it really meant--that most of you would get a C, not an A. As for what you can do better, it's not my responsibility to brainstorm ways you can impress me. Why can't you just be happy with your "good" rating knowing that I'm satisfied?

This is a slippery slope, my friends. Next will be the customer satisfaction survey to rate what we thought of the actual survey. "Well, question 5 was a little too personal for me, and I think only having the options of 'poor,' 'good,' and 'excellent' to choose from just smacks of racism."

Friday, August 8, 2014

no, I will not "like" your Facebook page...probably

I'm friends with a lot of people on Facebook. That statement is true in both of the senses you could take it: that a lot of people I consider to be friends have Facebook accounts, and also that I have a lot connections to people via Facebook's site which, in their own parlance, makes those people my "friends" (in much the same way that a Twitter entry is called a "tweet" or a menu item at McDonald's is called a "hamburger").

But as much as I enjoy the Facebooking, Zuckerberg's code monkeys have done a rather insidious thing (aside from the egregious privacy violations of their Messenger app)--they've allowed people to have a professional Facebook page that's separate from their personal page. Now, all of these Facebook "friends" expect me to like their professional pages too.

Here's a quick flowchart that predicts (with a small margin of error) whether or not I want to like your professional Facebook page:


If your professional Facebook page is for a dog grooming service and I don't even have a dog, on what basis can I like or dislike it? My "like" actually means something to me. It carries weight. I can't water it down because you want your thing to seem popular. What I "like" on Facebook says a lot about who I am as a person. How can I, in good conscience, possibly endorse a thing I haven't used myself?

Now, be a dear and like this blog post on Facebook.