I was reminded of this last night while trying to arrange desk copies for the fiction class I'm taking over. Some publishers now offer online desk copy order forms, and those have worked well when I've used them. But not all of their peers are at that point. I was poking around the site of a a publisher connected with a large media conglomerate just before dinner, trying to find info about desk copies. No links marked "For Educators" as some publishers have; it was actually easier to find which divisions of the company no longer exist than to find how to get a copy of a book that 40 students will buy this term. During a third scan of the FAQ page, sandwhched between lengthy entries about how to write to authors, and the founding of the company's new "Christian Division," I found directions to email for a desk copy. When I tried to send the message, though, I got a notice that the address was invalid. I had pasted it straight from the site. Tried typing it in by hand and got the same result. So I tried to look for a phone number this morning, which after another fifteen minutes or so I found in the directions for how to return books. When I called it, the clerk told me I would need to fax my request on University letterhead. They couldn't have put that in the FAQ page???
I wouldn't mind dealing with companies strictly through the web if they consistently provided information I wanted, and took the trouble to make sure links and email addresses work. I know every site has its glitches. I think everyone knows that, so why not provide a telephone number as a backup when your site prevents people from doing business with you?
Well, you have to hire someone to answer the phones, which means fewer people you can afford to hire for your core operations. You pay for more phone lines instead of resources critical to the core business. You get people bothering you with trivial requests and complaints. Unless you're a business that depends on telephone orders (and this publisher isn't), customer service by telephone is simply a losing proposition. Sure you need to keep customers happy, but if you can do that with a web page that doesn't require the same expense, well, why not?
Between the web and automated answering technologies, it's getting near impossible to contact who I need to at businesses, or even at my doctor. Which is the idea, of course. If you get one of those automated answering services, you're told that calls are taken in this way "in order to serve your needs more efficiently." Clearly, those who bought the machine understand "serving my needs efficiently" differently than I do. To me, this means taking care of my question or problem as quickly as possible. The company understands that as keeping me out of contact with flesh and blood people for as long as possible, which may drag the transaction out considerably, and interfere with me actually resolving what I called about.
Despite so many companies promoting themselves as customer friendly, a lot of them make me feel like a member of some disdained caste grudgingly hired to perform some unseemly by essential task like cleaning the toilet. It's vitally important that I do my thing--in this case, handing over my money--but also important that I don't get too close. Get in, fork over the cash, get out, sent on my way with a smile that's apt to become a snarl if I linger. In Nickel and Dimed Barbara Ehrenreich wrote that restaurant managers often seemed to view customers chiefly as potential interruptions in the smooth transformation of information into food and food into money. I think most businesses operate with a touch of that attitude, welcoming you with gracious words, even while hastily raising the velvet rope to keep you in your place.
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