Archive for the ‘Customer service’ Category


Being enterprising in Scarborough

Monday, April 12th, 2010

Back in the office today after a lovely sunny weekend in Scarborough. We were supposed to be moving house this week but it’s been delayed so we escaped to the seaside in the hope that the sea air and spring sunshine would lift our spirits.

Scarborough, you may know, was recently crowned the most enterprising town in Europe. That’s quite an accolade, particularly for a seaside town long thought to be past its best.

Did we see much enterprising activity? Apparently one of the reasons Scarborough won the award is the efforts that have been made to support digital industries – with free wifi in the harbour offering evidence of the town’s commitment to helping entrepreneurs to stay connected.

I can’t comment much on that, but I can comment on what it’s like as a two-day tourist. I live in Leeds, but when it comes to shopping and eating out I could be anywhere – Clone Town Britain is well and truly alive in Leeds City Centre. Of course there are independent shops and restaurants, but they’re few and far between. The big brands dominate, as they do across the UK.

Not so in Scarborough. And it’s not just because it’s smaller than Leeds – you’ll find many places of Scarborough’s size where most of the indigenous businesses have been squeezed out by the chains. Of course many of the big retailers are there, but there are loads of small businesses – restaurants, shops and cafes – which have Made in Scarborough written through them like a stick of rock.

That makes for a much more enjoyable experience. Or at least it can do. One reason that chains are successful is that they offer an apparent guarantee of quality. So you know that your Pizza Hut pizza in Scarborough will be just like the one you had in Leeds the week before. The temptation, when you lack local knowledge, is to play it safe and go for what you know.

We tried to steer clear of the big brands, with mixed results. The experiences which weren’t as good as they could have been got me thinking about what it really means to be enterprising. There was the B and B which charged premium prices but offered bargain basement service. And the Bistro, half-empty on a Saturday night, with bagged salad and one CD of MOR music, played time and time again.

Both entrepreneurs clearly were keeping a keen eye on their margins. And both probably tell a good story about how hard it is to compete with the big boys – the £19 rooms and the 3 courses for a tenner evening meals.

Whilst I’ll always tend to side with the small, independent businesses, I have also lost some of my sentimental attachment to all that is small. Both of these businesses have clearly forgotten what it’s like to be one of their customers – such a common mistake for many businesses – social businesses amongst them.

How do you compete in markets where prices are driven down by competition – some of which you could probably argue was unfair? You have to find different ways to be better than your competitors who will always beat you on price. You could start by trying to consider how your service looks from a customer’s point of view – looking at your business from the outside-in. It’s hard – and not very pleasant sometimes. But sitting in front of your creditors, with an insolvency practitioner sat to your right, is much harder.


It’s about the people, stupid

Wednesday, March 17th, 2010

I had a good, productive day in London yesterday. I went to a Health and Social Care conference organised by the Social Enterprise Coalition, then squeezed in the third social impact camp before heading home.

I do a fair bit of work in social care so I was keen to hear from a few people who are active in this field. All too often speakers at conferences disappoint, but most of them were pretty good yesterday (although ironically, for a health conference, I counted four contributors who hadn’t made it because of illness. But the reshuffled speakers did well).

We heard from, amongst others, Lance Gardner from Open Door in Grimsby, Victor Adebowale from Turning Point and Geoff Walker from Sandwell Community Caring Trust. There were some interesting common themes.

Everyone was pretty clear that we’re entering a period of financial constraint, the likes of which we haven’t seen in years. No-one’s underestimating the impact that could have, yet there was a sense of optimism too. It’s widely accepted that the much-needed investment in the NHS hasn’t resulted in a corresponding improvement in service. It’s unfair to say that the NHS had just done more of the same but with more money, but it’s not that unfair. The optimism from the speakers came from realising that big cuts could stimulate proper, radical reforms to how services are delivered, with systems built around the people who should be served. Social enterprises could play a big part in those changes.

Another common theme was to do with social enterprises being well placed to offer a co-ordinated approach, in a market dominated by silo thinking. The NHS, Adult Social Care, the Police, Education, Neighbourhoods and Housing etc etc all talk the language of partnership, but struggle to step outside of their comfort zones, particularly when doing so may threaten a budget. Social enterprises, the speakers suggested, can be more nimble, and offer a chance to bring together budgets to deliver more co-ordinated services. Turning Point’s Connected Care service seems to be a case in point. I accept a lot of this, but have also heard enough stories of social enterprises which clearly deliver outcomes for a wide range of government departments, finding that none of them wants to take responsibility for funding it. Buck-passing in place of joined-up working.

A third theme was around people and purpose. Geoff’s message was that at Sandwell their big success has been to re-connect their staff with the wide-eyed enthusiast who decided to be a social worker twenty years previously. We all know how so many people have been worn down by the system, and have lost any real sense of the purpose of their work. Through treating his staff well, through keeping decision making and responsibility as close to the ground as possible, Sandwell have made impressive improvements in staff absenteeism. Last year average absenteeism was one day per employee. Their local authority counterparts take more than three weeks leave through sickness. Immediately you have a substantial gain in productivity, and a powerful indicator of greater happiness and wellbeing at work. That has to have an impact on the quality of service delivered.

The challenge is about how to make big differences in the NHS. The examples we heard of are impressive, and Turning Point and Sandwell have expanded from their local roots, as have other social enterprises like P3. But, for me personally at least, it’s still not completely clear what the magic ingredients are in these social enterprises, and whether those ingredients can be shared. The suspicion remains that they are one-offs, founded by charismatic, maverick entrepreneurs, deeply rooted in their communities. As such are they replicable? And do we waste our time trying to work out how we can be a bit like them?

I suppose the answer is that in some way, we have to keep trying to work out what those magic ingredients are. And, for me at least, yesterday gave a bit more of an idea as to what those magic ingredients are. A key one is people. Treat your staff well and exciting things start to happen. Geoff was making a clear link between the lack of shareholders at Sandwell, and their ability to treat their staff well. He also had unkind words to say about HR managers, which given that I’m married to one, I’d have to disagree with.

But I can see that he’s saying, particularly about how the loud cries of impatient shareholders can distort a business, but I don’t think it’s necessarily the case that one leads to the other. Keeping money in the business has, in their case, achieved impressive results. But there are loads of for-profit businesses out there which treat their staff really well, whilst balancing that with the need to make money for owners or investors. The progressive ones realise that they’ll probably make more money by treating their staff well.

This is one reason why I’m keen to see social enterprises to jump out of their cosy, structurally defined niche, to start learning more from other businesses which you may class as “progressive”. I bet you that Geoff at Sandwell, and Martin at P3, both high achievers in this Best Companies to Work For poll, will learn more from the other businesses in that list than they will in their local social enterprise networks.


Bananas and the cult of the ASDA Shopper

Thursday, October 15th, 2009

For a while I was pretty much obsessed with bananas.  One of my proudest moments was when I was accused by the Fresh Produce Buyer at Asda (I was working at their HQ at the time) of "revolutionary activity", after I put a notice on the ASDA intranet about a World Development Movement campaign about poor conditions at Chiquita banana plantations.  "Remember what pays your wages" was the buyer's stern warning. 

Some things have changed with time – that conversation was 12 years ago.  In another email exchange with a buyer I was told in no uncertain terms that "The Asda Shopper will never buy Organic."  

Yet some other things don't change.  There was a good piece in the Guardian on Monday by Felicity Lawrence (thanks to Cliff Southcombe for pointing me to it) about the current banana supermarket price war.  It happens fairly often, particularly as bananas tend to be supermarkets' biggest selling line (as the produce buyer pointed out to me all those years ago) – and because they are a Known Value Item – people tend to be aware of how much bananas cost – in a way that they're not so aware of the price of dried borlotti beans.  

I lived in Guayaquil for a year, the port through which most of Ecuador's banana exports pass.  Whenever I travelled to the capital, Quito, I would bump along a pot-holed road through miles and miles of banana plantations, stretching way into the distance. It was an awe-inspiring sight.  

These bananas were dollar bananas – grown on plantations where conditions are regularly denounced as poor – low wages, lack of union recognition, regular use of pesticides etc etc.  It's this kind of industrial agriculture which allows supermarkets like ASDA/Wal-Mart to negotiate really low prices.

Of course ASDA will claim that this is in the interests of the ASDA Shopper.  In my years at Asda House the cult of the ASDA Shopper was something to behold.  There was no shrine in the atrium, but there might as well have been.    Of course any business should be focused on serving its customers, but I don't accept the supermarkets' regular assertions that they are just giving hard-pressed consumers what they want.  This one-dimensional argument is naive, ignores the social responsibilities of business, and is designed to deflect attention from a private company's primary purpose – to maximise profit for shareholders.  

ASDA have responded to Felicity Lawrence's article – with this letter from Alex Brown, their Produce Director.  I'm intrigued by this line:

"The reason we're able to offer the lowest prices is simple:  because we cut unnecessary cost out of our business and pass it on.  That's not because we're squeezing suppliers or trading unethically, it's just because we don't waste money."

One of the core values when I worked at ASDA – I assume it's still the same – was "We hate waste of any kind."  It's a good value – and that's why I can believe that they work incredibly hard to cut costs out of their business.  But am I supposed to swallow the line that they don't squeeze suppliers?  

I'd like to know whether Alex Brown has visited any of the plantations which supply ASDA, or whether he's considered the impact that a banana price war can have on other producers in this market.  If he can't afford the time to go to Ecuador, he could, as Felicity Lawrence suggests,  just take a look at the UK's diminishing dairy industry – and perhaps look a few dairy farmers in the eye and tell them that he's only doing what the ASDA Shopper wants.  


The role of a good complaint

Monday, September 28th, 2009

A friend is reading a book which says you can change your life by not complaining about anything for 21 days.

It's an interesting idea, but not one that I'll be taking up.  I haven't read the book but I'm immediately resistant to the fluffy therapy assumptions behind the idea.  Don't trouble your little head with worrying and complaining about things, just get on with life and see the good in everything, seems to be the idea. 

Of course, there is some merit in the idea of trying to see the positive in things.  I need to work on that for sure – I can be a bit quick to highlight what's wrong with a situation, rather than starting with what's right. 

I've complained about a couple of things in the last 48 hours.  Francis and I went to an art exhibition on Saturday.   It was publicised as a "weekend of people enjoying, creating, playing, sharing, experiencing, discovering and listening to sonic art."  It sounded interesting.  

We turned up at one of the installations, and were greeted with a big DO NOT TOUCH sign.  As Francis tried to experience and discover, (you created sound by putting your hands near the installation, but weren't to touch it) nervous staff hovered around us, and one of them eventually told Francis off because he touched it a bit.  I was annoyed because she handled it badly – and because I spend my whole life trying to encourage Francis to experience, discover, etc etc.  

Following the book's lead, I should just accept what happened and move on.  I probably would feel better about myself.  But I had to say something.  It had annoyed me on lots of levels – particularly because I felt they had failed in what they wanted to achieve – if their aim is to engage people in art.  As it was, it felt like something that was there for the benefit of the artist, not for us.  And you can be sure that they'll get very little honest feedback – all the sponsors, funders, artists and patrons will all tell eachother how marvellous it all was, and any disappointed punters will just walk away, slightly bemused.  

In my work, one of the biggest problems I face is that people don't request, or receive, honest feedback.  In the world of regeneration few people are brave enough to stand up and say that the emperor has no clothes.  Even fewer emperors are willing to ask for feedback on their clothing.  Sometimes complaints, or negative feedback, are what we need to hear if we're going to improve.  It can be really tough to take, but going round in circles because you never improve is pretty pointless.  

Down in the mouth

Thursday, August 6th, 2009

If you follow me on twitter, you'll know that I've just been to the dentist.  And you'll know that it didn't all go to plan.

The "you are no more than a number" welcome from the receptionists is par for the course.  As is the 15 minute wait.  As is the new dentist – the third new dentist in three visits.  As is me having to ask the dentist his name, rather than him introducing himself to me.  And let's not even dare to suggest anything as ridiculous as the dentist addressing me by my name.

The bit I wasn't ready for (having psyched myself up for a bit of discomfort) was that I'd only be in there two minutes, and would have to come back next week.

The scale and polish machine is broken.  So I have to come back.  I suggested to the dentist that I'd wasted my time.  He ignored me.  I asked the receptionist why someone couldn't have rung me to re-arrange the appointment.  She looked down at her keyboard.  I asked her again.  She ignored me again.  So I asked her a third time.  She said that I was due to just have a check up.  But one glance at my records would show that every check up includes a scale and polish.  No-one, at any stage, said sorry.  

What's the wider point here?  I read yesterday that dentists are doing rather well, since they re-negotiated their contracts.  Average income is around £90k.  Not bad.  

It's easy to have a go at them about their income, as I have just done.  But I actually don't mind people earning decent money.  I recognise that dentists take risks – buying equipment, renting premises, employing staff.  

But what I do mind is people earning good money and giving crap service.  And today I got crap service.  I'll wait til after next thursday's appointment, and then contact Patient Opinion.  After all, you don't want someone with a drill in their hand offering you feedback on the complaint you've just made.  


Tell Darzi

Wednesday, May 13th, 2009

I worked in a number of departments during my two years as a temp at Asda House.  For a couple of weeks I worked on the Tell Archie scheme  - Asda's staff suggestion scheme.   The best bit was that I got to sit at Archie Norman's desk – if I'd been a better impressionist I may have been tempted to phone up all their banana suppliers and demand that they switch to Fairtrade – or else.

Simon Caulkin wrote about the NHS's new suggestion scheme this week.  I've been at the mercy of the NHS for the last few days as my son's had a pretty nasty chest infection – he's on the mend and back at nursery today.  My experience was the usual mix of great service and pretty dismal service.  

Caulkin doesn't hold out much hope for the suggestion scheme.  He quotes, as I have done before, the systems thinker Russell Ackoff:

"Problems in organisations are almost always the product of interactions of parts, never the action of a single part."

I couldn't help but keep an eye out for evidence of this during our hospital and doctors visits this week.  So, for example,  the doctor phoned A&E to request an x-ray – they said fine, just print off a letter to give to the patient.  The doctor sighed – they always say that – but always want him to ring.  

That may have been worth it if they'd been expecting us when we arrived at A&E.  Instead, the receptionist looked at me, bemused.  "Where do you want to go – A&E or straight to x ray?"  I don't know, I've just been told to report to reception.  So we spent another hour in A&E, waiting for a doctor to authorise us to go for an x-ray, when, in theory, that had already been authorised.  A complete waste of my time and their resources.   

Caulkin's point is that you won't solve much by solving problems in isolation.  Such an approach may just breed competition amongst departments, instead of the real co-operation and understanding that's needed to work things out.  

I don't doubt for a minute how hard it must be to get the NHS to work.  One of the big issues must be that with frontline services there's little time to stop, think and change things.  On a much smaller scale, it was like that when I worked at the fair trade shop and cafe.  What we really needed to do was close down for a week and sort everything out.  But you couldn't do that – so you just carried on best you could.  But those big problems never went away.  

 

Moor thoughts

Tuesday, May 5th, 2009

As the weather was good, we went away for a couple of days to the North York Moors.  I like it up there, it's less touristy than the Dales (which, in turn, is less touristy than the Lakes) and there's something very attractive about the bleakness of much of the scenery.  I cycled round the Moors a few years ago so I feel quite attached to the area.

We stayed at Osmotherley Youth Hostel.  They're funny places Youth Hostels.  I like them a lot but there's something about them that puts me on edge a bit as well.  They all have the same background odour, a mix of years of socks, armpits and spag bol.  I'm always impressed by fellow hostellers' outdoor efforts, but often feel vaguely inadequate, given our plans to look round a ruin or visit a garden.  

It must be a fascinating social business to run.  They have an incredible property portfolio – with many magnificent old buildings, but they must cost a fortune to maintain.  The customer base is no doubt very hard to please – try satisfying the old-school hostellers who want cheap dorms, alongside the families who want en-suite and the young backpackers who want to be in the city.  And whatever you do, don't try to close a loss-making hostel….

The best hostel we've stayed in was in Stockholm.  It had one reception – but to the right was a hotel, with nice carpets and en-suite rooms – and to the left was a hostel, with dorms and lino floors.  

It worked really well  - and all guests could use all of the facilities – so that for example you could use both the hotel restaurant and the hostel self-catering kitchen.  It was a classic social business model – make more money out of those who have a bit more money, and a bit less out of those with a little less.  

There was something very Swedish about it.  I couldn't imagine it working quite the same here.  It happens to an extent here – many hostels now have premium rooms, but the distinction is more subtle.  Could you imagine one of the YHA's magnificent properties, shared perhaps with Hotel Du Vin, with the wealthy turning left at reception to carpetted spleandour, whilst the less well-off turn right towards the bunk-beds?  

Think Bike

Wednesday, April 29th, 2009

This sign was on the door of a conference venue where I had a meeting this morning:

LCI welcomes all people, but sorry, we cannot accommodate bikes

You can kind of see what they're getting at, but it's a rather odd way of saying it.  You just know that it's been written in haste after an altercation with a bike-wielding visitor, who accused them of not being accommodating to people on wheels.  

Signage can tell you a lot about a business.  First Buses always wind me up with the spin they put on bus price rises – there'll be a few words about "New Prices" (as in shiny new prices), and then a load of guff about how their weekly ticket is great value for money.  

I remember seeing a sign on an independent bus company bus in South Yorkshire a few years ago which said something like "Alan, George and the rest of the Directors of Yorkshire Traction (or whatever they were called) are sorry that we've had to put the prices up.  This is because diesel has shot up in price."  That's more like it.

How do you talk to your customers?  What's the first thing they see when they arrive on your premises?  Is it a window full of out-of-date posters, or a sign that says that you park at your own risk?  Might it be time to say something a bit different?

When you’re in a hole, stop spinning

Wednesday, April 29th, 2009

Just heard someone on the Today Programme talking about a new retail
skills academy. Asked whether this was a response to poor service
standards at retailers, he said "we are not in denial that there
aren't significant opportunities." 

It sounds like you are in denial mate. One of the skills businesses
need to re-learn is being straight with people. Why not just say "we
recognise that too much service in shops isn't good enough"? I'd be
with him then. Instead I'm thinking he's a bit of an idiot.

Getting things right first time

Monday, April 27th, 2009

It's clear that things are going to get very interesting in the public sector in the next few years.  David Cameron's call for a culture of thrift points us to how things are likely to be from now on.  We'll soon see committees set up to banish Post It notes and replace them with pieces of A4 paper cut into 8 by school-leavers on a guaranteed apprenticeship.  The ultimate win-win.  

There was a good piece in the Observer yesterday by their Management Editor Simon Caulkin.  He talks about the insanity of much of the Government's drive to cut costs.  Apparently the emphasis is on buying better IT and sharing back-office processes.  

I found this paragraph interesting:

"The paradox of efficiency is that it can't be addressed head-on.  It is a by-product that can only be defined in terms of its purpose.  Without purpose, efficiency is meaningless.  Cutting costs (the government's purpose) only raises them for the citizen – but because the assumptions are out of bounds, the government can't see it."

Without purpose, efficiency is meaningless.  I may be misreading the meaning of this, but for me it points to insanity of top-down demands for a percentage-cut in spending, as opposed to a more profound re-think of how things are done.  

I wrote a while back about another Caulkin column which referred to the concept of failure demand  - the idea being that a lot of "demand" in a system stems from things not being done correctly first time.  I think this is the kind of thinking we need over the next few years.  Public services aren't the only ones where failure demand is apparent – for example any business which uses poorly trained, remote, call centre staff usually has a lot of failure demand in its system.  

But here I'm focusing on public services.  Imagine if there was a culture shift in public services which meant that staff were empowered – and expected – to do all they could to get things right first time.  I know that helping an older person to stay independent, for example,  is more complicated than replacing a faulty mobile phone – but the principles are the same.  A focus on the needs of the individual, instead of the limitations of the system. 

So many public service systems are founded on the principles of not giving people everything that they want.  There's in-built rationing in the NHS for example.  The fear is that we'd bankrupt the system if we gave people what they want and need.  Of course there's a risk there.  But what about the (often hidden) costs of servicing failure demand?  We've all gone round in circles in public sector systems – whether it's for a new bin, a hospital appointment or to report a hole in the road.  Cut that out and you save a fortune – and make the service better for the citizen.

It will be interesting to see how things pan out in the next few years.  I have a rather bleak theory (no doubt someone can tell me it's someone else's theory) that unless there is a bigger incentive (or purpose), most employees have an in-built tendency to keep things complicated, and to not complete tasks satisfactorily – as this "demand" strengthens their case that they're needed.  The fear is that if I do my job too well, and deal with all the demand, they'll get rid of me.  

But this brings us back to the point about purpose.  Your job as a public servant may be to administrate a system.  But your purpose is to serve the public, and, in your own little way, make society a better place in which to live.  If there's a political leader who can communicate that message in the next few years (and for the record, no, I don't think Cameron's the man, although he appears to understand this issue more than most) then we may stand a chance of building a better society in a time of thrift.