Is that your inbox in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?

As summer sputters to a dismal close it’s time to refocus on work and all of its tailings — like email.

Yuck, right? Who likes email?

Apparently we all do. We carry it around in our pockets.

I blame the Blackberry for this societal malfeasance.

But it doesn’t need to go on.

I urge you to join me in unweaving this discoloured thread from the fabric of our collective existence.

Take your email off your phone.

Do it now.

Another Communications Example Northwestel Could Learn From

Last week the blog platform I use, WordPress.com (the one you’re currently reading these words on), suffered some downtime.

The people who manage this platform went beyond just fixing the problem.

They told us what happened, what they did to fix it, how long it took, and what they’re doing to try and prevent another similar occurrence in the future. You can read their blog post here: Downtime.

That’s great customer service. And it’s for a service that’s totally free.

Now compare that to how Northwestel handles its outages. They provide almost no information, avoid even acknowledging that anything happened (it’s that maybe nobody noticed mentality), rarely explain what happened, don’t offer information about how they recovered from the outage, and provide no assurance that they’re working to avoid similar outages in the future.

That’s awful customer service. And it’s for a service I pay $90 a month for.

It would be both refreshing and encouraging if Northwestel made an effort to communicate these matters to its customers. It would provide an assurance to us that we can depend on the company to work in our interests and in the interest of providing quality services.

Instead, when the company hides behind a wall or buries its head in the sand over these issues, one begins to lose trust, faith, and wonder what the company is hiding.

Northwestel: Time to Learn Some Respect

Dear Northwestel:

your Whitehorse-based internet users suffered a nearly 2-hour service outage on Wednesday, January 13, 2010, from about noon to almost 2pm. The outage also affected mobile phone users on the new HSPA network, who experienced an equivalent total service outage.

2 hours is a long time for any service to be down. And, while you may not consider your end-user internet and mobile phone services “mission critical”, most of us do. The internet is a modern way of life, both on mobile and desktop devices. More and more services are migrating to the internet and many of us make our livings online.

So a 2-hour outage is significant. It’s costly. It’s debilitating. It’s also unacceptable.

But, you know, it wouldn’t be so bad if you communicated with us about it. Tell us why it happened, and tell us what you’re doing to make sure it doesn’t happen again. How are you learning from the mistake that you made that cost many of your customers hours of lost accessibility and productivity?

More to the point, though: apologize to us.

Unfortunately, it seems you’re hoping that we’ll be okay if you just duck and run. Avoid the issue. Pretend like it didn’t happen. There is no information on your web site about yesterday’s significant outage (the last press release, for example, “Entries in Directory Artwork Contest Now on Web,” dates from January 12). Nothing on Facebook, nor Twitter.

In fact, the most information I’ve read about the outage was a Twitter response to me directly after I asked about it: “It was a problem with a distribution router located in Whitehorse. All services are now restored.“

Really? That’s it? I sat for two hours without cell or internet access in the middle of a business day and that’s all the explanation I get?

There’s only one word for this type of behaviour: disrespectful.

If I were Northwestel and you were my client, here’s what I would have done.

First, immediately following rectification of the problem, I would have proactively and publicly acknowledged the outage. I would have accepted responsibility for it. Most importantly, I would have apologized for it. I would have posted information prominently on my website, on Twitter, on Facebook. I would have issued press releases.

The materials I distributed would explain specifically how the outage occurred, in plain language. Where was the problem? What sort of equipment failed? Why did the outage happen?

Those materials would also describe the total scope of its impact. How many people were affected? How long did it last? What services were affected?

Those materials would also describe how I was taking steps to ensure a similar outage doesn’t happen in the future. What did I learn? What can I do better? If the outage can’t specifically be prevented (i.e. it was a failure in global connectivity beyond the scope of Northwestel’s responsibility), I would explain that.

Instead, Northwestel, you seem to believe that a stiff upper lip is the correct response. That silence is somehow golden. You hope that, if you keep your trap shut this’ll all just blow over.

But such a betrayal of communication can only breed anger and contempt and it is extremely disrespectful. And you wonder why nobody likes you.

A simple, comprehensive public explanation, on the other hand, would help us all to understand the situation, recognize your support efforts, and perceive that you respect us enough to share an explanation. It would let us in. It would have made us feel like you actually cared about us.

I hope you’ll consider my remarks here and, in future, treat us with the respect we’re due as customers through really simple actions like communication. It’s not hard, it doesn’t cost much, and it really goes a long way.

Press 1 to Read This Column. Press 2 to Be Confused and Frustrated

We’ve all been met with that seemingly impenetrable wall of technology whenever we call a large business.

That press-1-for-this and press-2-for-that maze.

The old we’ve-recently-changed-our-menu thing.

Then there’s the classic we’re-experiencing-a-higher-call-volume-than-normal cliché that lasts for years and is probably just a cover for layoffs.

(Bell’s been broadcasting that last one since 2003, which makes me wonder what the company even considers normal.)

What’s unfortunately become normal to us, of course, is the seeming fact that humans don’t answer phones any more.

It’s a Teen Cultural Revolution

If you’re a young person, somewhere between the ages of 13 and 18, you’re currently involved in the first great cultural revolution of the 21st Century.

You may not be aware of it, but you are helping to redefine how we communicate and socialize. You are inventing new ways to share thoughts, feelings, emotions, and ideas.

In a way, much as your hippie grandparents did to sexuality way back in the 1960s, you are turning the totality of social interaction on its head.

You almost certainly have a Facebook profile, and you maintain it regularly. This is an essential method for maintaining your personal relationships.

You probably have a second profile on Windows Live, where you engage with a different set of friends apart from your Facebook milieu. This is less important to you. In a way, it’s a social sandbox, where you can explore alternative versions of yourself.

It’s unlikely that you tweet, and it’s quite possible that you don’t even know what I’m referring to by that remark. But that’s okay, because the Twitter social model doesn’t jive with your mindset.

You more than likely have a mobile phone which you treasure more than pretty much any other possession. It is your lifeline, indeed your lifeblood. You maintain your most important and personal social dialogues through your mobile phone by sending hundreds of text messages every day.

You make plans, joke, flirt, shout, cry, and seek solace by text. And you’re always texting because, remarkably, you can even do it undetected in class.

You probably asked someone out on a first date using your mobile phone. You probably dumped your first boyfriend by text message. Maybe you dump them all that way.

You probably take your mobile phone to bed with you. Most nights you fall asleep to the glow of its screen.

There a distinct chance that your first sexual experience was had on your mobile phone. Maybe you sent someone a provocative photo of yourself. More likely, you texted dirty with your girlfriend.

You have an emotional bond with your mobile phone, and you experience extreme stress when it’s not in your possession.

Your mobile phone sets you free. Or at least that’s what you think. Because it’s also your anchor.

The teenage years are an important period for establishing independence from your parents.

Previous generations worked at defining personal identity in isolation, away from familial influence.

No more. Your mobile phone promises a steady line of communication with your folks. And not only are they repeatedly interrupting your life with phone calls and texts, but you are also homing in on them for emotional gratification, support, and feedback.

Where once a teen like you may have bought a new pair of shoes in spite of your parents’ tastes, you now vet your mom’s input via MMS.

As a result of this, combined with your tendency to multitask your social communications, you are having difficulty cultivating a true sense of self.

At any given moment, you’re probably simultaneously engaged in an IM session on Facebook, several text discourses on your mobile, and a face-to-face chat with your mom. In each of those communication environments you’re maintaining a different mindset, probably even a different personality.

Psychologists are starting to worry that many of you are developing split personality disorders.

And as a result of this impaired sense of identity, you are prime fodder for consumer marketing messages.

You may pride yourself in being impregnable to such messaging but, in fact, a consumer mindset is key to engaging in the new world you are helping create.

After all, consumer goods such as computers and mobile phones are absolutely essential for you to communicate. Not only are they technically required, but the sort of devices you select to use contribute to your sense of identity.

In other words, consumerism is the superstructure in which the new cultural environment you are building exists. Marketers recognize that this leaves you sensitive to their messaging. Beware.

And keep in mind that, as the old cliché goes, you are the future. Older generations are already feeling excluded from this strange new world you inhabit and one day you will use it to govern, build businesses, sell goods, and generally run the world.

Make sure you let the old folks in.

Originally published in the Yukon News on Friday, June 26, 2009.

Voice Mail is “Ancient”

I love this article at StarTribune.com, “Voice-mail calls, but do we care?“.

The article goes to great length to fully diss this stone age technology (it’s almost as old as Star Wars!), but I can sum it up much more simply: voice mail sucks.

I know it’s sometimes not great for business, but I rarely check my voice mail. As a couple of subjects in the article remark, keeping up with more-efficient forms of communication like SMS (text messaging), IM (like AIM, GoogleTalk, and Skype) and even email (yuck!) take enough time. In the article, Yen Cheong, 32, a book publicist in New York, sums it up well:

“If you left a message, I have to dial in, dial in my code,” Cheong said. “Then I mess up and redial. Then once I hear the message, I need the phone number. I try to write it down, and then I have to rewind the message to hear it again,” she added, feigning exhaustion.

That’s just it. Voice mail is an incredibly clumsy, time-consuming process of communication that almost always ends up in frustration. And, typically, before I can respond to a voice mail message, I’ve been distracted by something else which is, more often than not, an email or text message.

Granted, Google Voice now offers voice-mail-to-email translation services. But it’s a flawed beast (even though so many other features of the service totally rock) and I have yet to receive one email from Google Voice that even remotely resembles the spoken verbiage of the original voice message.

It’s to the point for me that I communicate almost exclusively with friends, colleagues, and clients who have also adjusted to more modern forms of communication. The folks who rely on voice messaging are falling by the wayside, for better or for worse.

quick lesson from bell mobility: establish and deliver consistent messaging

 

As I fell asleep last night, I realized the one thing that most irritated me about my recent experience with Bell Mobility: a complete lack of consistency in communication. Over the course of a day, several of Bell Mobility’s staff delivered a wide variety of conflicting information on a single subject: how long it takes to provision a phone.

When I initially called to provision the pre-paid service on my phone, I spoke with Lucy. She was prompt and courteous, and informed me that my phone would be activated within 24 hours, but that I first had to call 1-888-542-3784 to get my phone programmed.

I dutifully called that number, but there was no answer. I called several times over several hours, but never was the phone picked up.

So I called back to Bell’s customer service. I spoke to a man this time, whose name I didn’t write down. He complained that my phone wasn’t activated, and he also complained that Lucy hadn’t programmed my phone while she had me on the line. “She should have programmed it,” he said. “Those CSRs are so lazy.” He helped me program my phone during that call (it took about 10 seconds). He also said I shouldn’t have to wait more than a couple of hours to have my phone activated.

The next morning – 24 hours after I’d initially spoken to Lucy – my phone still wasn’t activated, so I called Bell.