Customer Service - Part I
I was reading an article the other day about Uber CEO Travis Kalanick and the incredibly irate responses Uber's new surge pricing is drawing from consumers (an algorithm that raises the cost of a ride if it's rush hour or the weather is bad). While many were simply mad about not having a fixed rate for transportation or the potential for increased costs, this author was more upset about the response from Uber in light of the criticism. The author wrote:
My problem with Uber doesn't stem from a lack of understanding as to the basic principles of supply and demand. My problem is the condescending attitude they display for their customers, combined with their naked embrace of profiteering.
It was bad enough that Uber was engaging in practices that some customers found rather exploitative, but even worse to find that the complaints were falling on deaf ears. Kalanick's stance has been pretty cut and dry, from what I've read; it's basically: we're responding to the market, so if you don't like the price then don't pay it. In essence, it removes Uber from any blame concerning higher-than-usual fees and transfers it towards people who don't understand the functions of capitalism. That reaction made some people incredibly upset because typically that's not the way a business is supposed to respond to consumer complaints; they're supposed to be sorry and apologetic in the face of customer dissatisfaction, not smug and confident. It's a role reversal that many are frankly uncomfortable with.
There's a certain understanding that's engrained in American business practices and has been in operation for so long that consumers are practically flabbergasted when it doesn't function properly. It's a little phrase known as "the customer is always right." As Americans, we're used to a business listening to us when we're upset about something and valuing that input because they value our patronage. To a certain extent, a business is expected to remain curtious while listening to what we as consumers are here to tell them--these are our needs, so please make them happen. We've gotten quite used to that model here in the states. We want to know that we're appreciated and we like to remind the business world that we always have the right to shop elsewhere if we're not. However, when a business decides to stray from that philosophy and turn the tables, people get completely disoriented and easily agitated. The only thing that could make it worse, from a consumer perspective, is to watch that business thrive in the face of that contempt.
Yet, it's happening. Uber is growing and customers are still using the service despite the outrage from a few unhappy riders. It reminds me a little of the current anger I see towards whisky companies due to the rising price of collectable bottles. So far, the market is responding to these increased costs without a hitch and, as consumers, all we can really do is take our business elsewhere if we're upset about it. But sometimes walking away simply isn't enough. We want to make sure that our loss is being felt, that our complaints are being heard, and that ultimately the company will be sorry for losing our business. More importantly, we often want others to join us in that crusade. That's why the "Soup Nazi" episode of Seinfeld is so beloved by fans of the series. It perfectly characterizes this sea change in the balance of power between business and consumer and how infuriating it can be when that happens.
Personally, I've never been interested in using superior service as an excuse to blow off customer relations. I'm far too sensitive to what other people think and I can get seriously bent out of shape when we mishandle a tricky customer service issue (I've definitely flubbed a few in my time). I want everyone to be pleased with their experience at K&L and, ultimately, I derive more happiness from that satisfaction than from any increase in profits we might see as a result. I absolutely do care when our customers are upset (probably more than would be considered healthy for someone in this line of work). However, as an observer I find it interesting to watch other business models and see how their approach plays out in the long run. It's almost like watching an episode of Downton Abbey, where everyone is expected to know their role and play their part. The exciting drama always stems from the characters who choose to function outside of these expectations and dare others to do something about it.
-David Driscoll