Category Archives: Culture

Why The Service Sector Lacks Self-Awareness

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If you did a root cause analysis of companies that rate poorly for customer service, I predict it would reveal one or more of the following:

  • Outdated processes
  • Inadequate staff training
  • Poor product knowledge
  • Operational silos

What it usually comes down to is a chronic lack of self-awareness. (This is not helped if there is a failure of leadership, or a toxic culture within the organisation.) Despite all the customer feedback forms, platitudes such as “your call is important to us”, and the regular customer advocacy reports, unless service providers can truly put themselves in the shoes of their customers, they will never have sufficient knowledge or self-awareness with which to fully evaluate the “customer experience”.

Image: Customer Feedback Device (Source: Smarte Carte)

Image: Customer Feedback Device (Source: Smarte Carte)

Today’s customers are more knowledgable (because they have access to more information, they can shop around, and in some cases, they have more choice). Today’s customers are also actively encouraged to engage with corporate social media (by following, liking and sharing, and by becoming surrogate brand advocates). However, the increased levels of expectation that this “engagement” creates are not always matched by the post-sales customer experience.

I have written before about how companies can improve their customer service, using a practical 7-point scheme. I would challenge any organisation that rates itself highly for customer service, to assess its performance against those criteria, as well using the ubiquitous customer satisfaction scores (CSAT, NPS®, CES, etc.).

Nearly every time I have an interaction with a telco, utility, bank or other service provider, I receive an immediate follow-up customer feedback request. Once upon a time, I would have been quite willing to provide constructive feedback, as I used to believe that it was important for the voice of the customer to be heard. Nowadays, I am more hesitant, because I don’t believe this feedback is ever properly acknowledged, analyzed or acted upon.

So many of these feedback request forms are self-serving, because the person you dealt with is in effect soliciting personal feedback on their individual performance. And while that is important, it is rarely done in the specific context of the customer’s own experience, and is more concerned with the company’s internal policies and procedures.

I am also increasingly sceptical about feedback processes that are ostensibly used for staff training. First, time is valuable, so it would be nice if companies could reward their customers for making the effort to engage. Second, on the rare occasions where a company has contacted me in response to a complaint submitted online or via a feedback form, I never learn what specific steps the company is taking to rectify problems caused by operational or policy failings. Thirdly, why should I be responsible for telling you how to train your staff or improve your service – surely that’s your job!

In many cases, it is not the performance of an individual customer service representative that is the problem. More likely, it’s poor customer service training, inadequate product knowledge or a myopic perspective, reinforced by silo operations. When even the most pleasant and competent service rep tells me, “I’m sorry, but it’s the way the system is designed…”, they probably don’t realize what a disservice they are doing: a “system” is only as good as the people who design it, and the people who implement it. So, they are in effect criticising their own colleagues, and the organisation they work for.

This lack of self-awareness by customer service staff is reinforced by the limited discretion in trying to resolve customer problems. Along with the use of internal jargon and bewildering acronyms, there is nothing worse than having to complain long or loud enough in order to escalate a problem. It would be wonderful if companies could empower their staff by giving them (well-defined) individual discretion on problem solving, and incentivize them for taking responsibility for the end-to-end resolution process.

In addition, it’s really infuriating being handed from one specialist, team or department to another, especially due to labyrinthine help line service menus. Telco on-boarding processes are particularly notorious for having complex operational procedures, multiple hand-offs and ring-fenced communications. I recall one large service provider who told me that in-bound call-centre staff were unable to speak directly to their own web support teams, and even if they communicated via internal e-mail, they could not guarantee a response.

If I am beginning to sound a bit like a broken record, it’s because recent experiences only reinforce my belief that many companies still don’t understand what it’s like to be one of their customers. But there’s a huge paradox here: on the one hand, companies are trying to reduce customer churn, increase “stickiness”, and improve the share of wallet or lifetime customer value; on the other, the cost of new customer acquisition appears to be cheaper (thanks to social media tools and web analytics), so it doesn’t matter if they lose a few customers, because it’s not that difficult or expensive to find new ones.

If it’s no longer true that “the customer is always right”, because profit margins are being squeezed and companies are being told to “stop delighting your customers”, then service providers have to do a much better job of managing customer expectations. They also need to demonstrate genuine empathy and concern if things go wrong (which is difficult if they don’t have sufficient self-awareness). And if things do go wrong, they need to ask the customer “what could we have done differently to provide you with better customer service?”.

In my professional experience of product management and business development, understanding customer needs and identifying ways to improve service delivery (along with customer-centric perspectives rather than product-led processes), are genuine sources of competitive advantage. But it takes considerable self-awareness to engage customers beyond the level of a single transaction, to develop genuine rapport, and to build sustainable long-term relationships. If your organisation is challenged by poor customer service, and if you recognise this is in part due to a lack of self-awareness, please get in touch – I’d be very interested to understand your problem.

Next week: Idea over Form – Gehry vs Ando

Surrealism, Manifestos and the Art of Juxtaposition

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Like all good coaches and mentors, the best artists challenge our assumptions, reframe our perspective, and re-contextualise both the positive and negative, to provide a narrative structure with which to navigate the world around us. Likewise, they don’t tell us what to think, but leave us to interpret events for ourselves, having given us the benefit of an informed and critical vantage point.

Image: "Untitled" (2012) by Greatest Hits, NGV, Melbourne © Greatest Hits

Image: “Untitled” (2012) by Greatest Hits, NGV, Melbourne © Greatest Hits

Over the holidays, I went to a couple of unrelated but inter-connected exhibitions that both played with our traditional perception of reality while demonstrating the importance of context in providing meaning.

The Comfort of the (Un)Familiar?

First up was Lurid Beauty: Australian Surrealism and its Echoes, at the NGV Australia. I’m a big fan of Surrealist art, having visited the landmark retrospective, Dada and Surrealism Reviewed at London’s Hayward Gallery in 1978 (and I later made a very minor contribution to a documentary on Eileen Agar in 1989). What I particularly like about Surrealism is its use of the familiar to create alternative realities, which is both comforting and unsettling. Sadly, I know next to nothing about Australian Surrealism (and I imagine I am hardly alone, given it has only recently gained formal recognition and critical appreciation).

So I was pleasantly surprised to find early pieces by major artists such as Albert Tucker and Sidney Nolan, which to my mind were far more interesting than the works for which they are popularly known. When seen alongside contemporaneous exhibits by Max Dupain, Eric Thake and James Gleeson, it’s easy to see how Surrealism was a significant influence on Australian art from the 1930’s to 1950’s. And yet I don’t recall many references to the local Surrealist movement or a wide acknowledgment of its impact on 20th century Australian art. More’s the pity, when you can see how the threads of Surrealism continue to be woven into the work of contemporary artists like David Noonan, Julie Rrap, Anne Wallace and Pat Brasington.

The Long Shadow of 19th Century Gothic

Part of the problem might be the fact that later, more familiar works by Nolan, Tucker and Gleeson have become severed from the artists’ original (and modernist) Surrealist roots. Instead, as I see it, these artists (along with Boyd, Perceval, Olsen et al) have been re-cast as part of the continuing 19th century Australian Gothic sensibility (Goths being more tangible than Surrealists?). This prism prefers the literal over the metaphorical, “real” legends over allegories, and landscapes over mind scapes.

Even Inarticulate Art Speaks for Itself?

Another issue, from my perspective, is that contemporary Australian Surrealism continues to play with psychological and political issues, alongside themes of gender, sexuality and hierarchy – topics designed to make us feel uncomfortable. Whereas, in my view, too many contemporary artists are either obsessed with process over form/form over content (to the point that any potential meaning is lost); or conversely, output is everything (often reducing their work to mere illustration or decoration).

Not Made Here?

On a purely aesthetic level, and to be hyper-critical for one moment, I wonder if Australian Surrealism is overlooked because received art opinion considers it to be too derivative of its European counterpart – and therefore, it has fallen victim to cultural cringe. One possible example is Barry Humphries‘ sculpture “Siamese Shoes” (originally made in 1958, shown here in its 1968 remake). While Humphries, according to the exhibition notes, “is considered to be Australia’s first Dada artist” (only 40 years too late, some might say…), I don’t believe for a moment that he was trying merely to imitate Meret Oppenheim‘s almost identical and much earlier work, “Das Paar” (originally made in 1936, remade in 1956).  When viewed in the context of its companion pieces that also formed part of Humphries’ solo exhibitions and artistic happenings, and when one considers Australia’s cultural climate of the 1950’s, then it’s more likely that Humphries was appropriating Dadaism and Surrealism for his own purposes, specifically designed to stir up his local audience out of their suburban bourgeois complacency.

Re-directing Surrealism’s Legacy in Australia

What was especially telling about Lurid Beauty was the 15-20 minute conversation I had with one of the gallery volunteers. She was very keen to get my views on the work, and asked how I came to learn about this particular exhibition. I got the impression that attendance has not been as high as anticipated, perhaps due to a lack of publicity. Despite being on several mailing lists for Melbourne’s arts and cultural events, I had not received any promotional material about this exhibition. We also discussed whether Surrealism features in the high school art curriculum, and whether the exhibition needed to emphasise the contemporary works and themes (rather than taking a somewhat traditional or historical narrative, based on a selective bunch of male artists – the usual suspects).

Given the legacy of Surrealism on film, literature, advertising, music videos, fashion and design, I think more could have been done to make this exhibition appeal to a broader and younger audience. The works, for the most part, are vibrant (if at times challenging), and even the themes depicted in the older pieces still resonate today. (A concurrent exhibition of Les Mason‘s advertising, graphic and visual design work only emphasises the point about Surrealism’s continuing influence.)

Finally, one very welcome aspect of Lurid Beauty was the extensive collection of original publications from the NGV’s library: magazines, catalogues, journals, and of course, André Breton‘s “Surrealist Manifesto”.

In the Artists’ Own Words

Speaking of Manifesto, this is the title of Julian Rosefeldt‘s video exhibition next door at ACMI. I had the privilege of hearing the artist introduce one of the works at a special screening, in which he mentioned his fascination with art manifestos. In a rare example of an artist directly and explicitly acknowledging his sources and inspiration, Rosefeldt shared with the audience that he had even become somewhat obsessed with a particular feminist manifesto. Not only did this provide some fascinating insights on the artistic process, it demonstrated yet again that we are all products of what has gone before, and it reinforced the importance of understanding art in the context of the history, theory and criticism, when it comes to interpreting old and new art.

Using around 50 different manifestos (artistic, political, cultural, critical), Rosefeldt has created 13 short films, each representing a particular art movement. The selected texts have been juxtaposed as monologues for 13 different characters, who deliver their lines, seemingly out of context with the visual settings, but at the same time, totally integrated into coherent narrative forms.

The fact that Cate Blanchett is cast in all 13 lead roles has no doubt created additional interest among local audiences. But, not to take anything away from her performances, this should be irrelevant – the point is that Rosefeldt has taken something with very specific meaning from one context, combined it with a mix of related and unrelated elements, and created a whole set of new meanings. (If anything, seeing simultaneous versions of Blanchett performing multiple, disparate roles, screened side by side, only underlines the fact that actors are the great deceivers – which, if any, is the “real” Cate?)

The videos are looped and synchronised. At times, the monologues converge and overlap, creating three and four-part harmonies for spoken word. This further de-contextualises the source materials, while lending them further meaning, even if we can’t immediately fathom what that might be. (Personally, I think it could be a subliminal reference to the Tower of Babel, or simply a comment on the manifestos themselves – and by extension, the vacuous words of so many artists’ statements.)

Less Is More

Two other works in the exhibition, Stunned Man and The Soundmaker (both from The Trilogy of Failure), are more straightforward narratives, also featuring a single character cast in a familiar setting.

First, Stunned Man is a dual screen projection, comprising mirror images of the same apartment. Over time, elements appear to interchange between the two screens, in a process of forward/reverse destruction and re-construction. But there are enough visual clues to suggest that not all is as it seems, in this parallel universe.

Next, The Soundmaker deconstructs the work of the Foley artist, using a similar process of destruction and re-construction – but split across three screens and two scenes, the viewer could be left wondering whether the “real” action is actually the soundtrack for the Foley artist at work.

What all these works demonstrate is that sometimes less is more – a simple idea can still be executed with wit, sophistication and restraint, to lend it a level of complexity that does not over-burden the final result. It requires a deft touch. There is nothing obvious or ponderous in these films. Nothing about these highly staged videos has been left to chance – every detail has been meticulously thought through. They are perhaps all too rare examples of when formal planning, combined with creative process and technical production, can give us content that is fully formed, but still open to interpretation.

The Artistic License

In my professional work as a coach and mentor, I’m not in the habit of constructing manifestos (believe it or not, I don’t possess that level of didacticism…). But I try to challenge my clients’ assumptions, reframe their situations, and draw on analogous scenarios (not just from business, but from technology, culture, art, music, etc.) that can help re-contextualise their perspectives, especially when clients are stuck. I see a large part of my role as consultant to use the “artistic license” I have been given to investigate, interpret and identify solutions to client problems – which at times can even take the form of a type of alchemy. As one client I worked with recently commented, “the way you reframed the situation was like pure gold”.

Next week: Why The Service Sector Lacks Self-Awareness

A Music Buyer’s Guide to Japan (or Crate Digging in Kobe, Kyoto & Tokyo…)

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For serious music collectors, Japan is like an oasis in a desert of digital downloads and streaming services. Not only does Japan still have bricks and mortar record shops, it also boasts a couple of well-known chain stores, in the guise of Tower Records and HMV, although both brands operate under local licenses totally unconnected with their original US and UK parent companies.

A Crate Diggers Paradise....

A Crate Diggers’ Paradise…. (Picture sourced from Facebook post)

On my recent tour of Japan, I spent several hours visiting some of the crate-digging hubs of Kobe, Kyoto and Tokyo. I barely scratched the surface, but still managed to come across some interesting finds.

“Big In Japan”

Whether it’s the country’s aging population, the love of tactile objects combined with a strong design aesthetic, or just that national obsession with detail and authenticity when it comes to pursuing hobbies and interests; whatever the reason, Japan has established a reputation for being a paradise for lovers of vinyl records, CDs and cassettes.

For collectors like myself, it seems like all the unwanted and discarded records from around the world have ended up in Japan’s second hand music shops to be (re)discovered and appreciated by audiophiles, hipsters and analogue enthusiasts.

Here is just a small glimpse of what dedicated music lovers and crate-diggers can experience in Japan.

Kobe

The Motoko market (a series of cramped arcades underneath the railway lines) has at least a dozen second-hand music stores stuffed with vinyl. A few of these shops specialise in particular genres, and some also sell new independent releases. What they all have in common are over-stacked racks and heaving shelf units shoved close together, forcing shoppers to crab-walk very carefully between piles of records, at considerable risk of triggering a vinyl avalanche.

Some of the stores arrange their stock meticulously by type and artist, but not much help if you don’t read Japanese; others seemed to have given up cataloguing the stock, so if you are searching for a specific record, it’s like looking for a needle in a haystack.

At times, it felt like this was the end of the line for many of the items on display – if they can’t find a buyer here, there probably isn’t much hope for them anywhere. No doubt there is a lot of on-line trading behind the scenes, and prices were generally reasonable, so maybe the shops are more like warehouses open to the public?

Poring through some of the 70s vinyl was something of an education, as I came across albums I had never seen before, even though I worked in a second-hand record store in London in the late 80s. I resisted the temptation to buy some of the older Japanese pressings (especially at Wild Honey Pie), even though they have a reputation for superior sound quality, but I did pick up a Japanese edition of the first Y.M.O. album on CD at Freak Out Records.

Kyoto

Armed with a handy crate-digging map of Kyoto, I checked out several shops located near City Hall. Unlike their Kobe counterparts, these were neat and orderly boutiques, and were easy to browse. None of the stores are at street level, so navigation can be challenging. The map lists stores by genre and other specialisations, although some of the music categories can seem bewildering.

I spent most time at 100000t alonetoco (I think it means something like “100,000 tonnes of records”?), which has a good range of vinyl and CD, from classic rock to contemporary sounds, from soundtracks to electronica, plus books and other memorabilia. The owner stocks numerous Japan-only releases by independent US and UK artists, many of which are highly collectible. Speaking of which, I found an absolute bargain – a 1987 compilation CD of the 2nd and 3rd albums by The Pop Group, which was only released in Japan. Copies of this particular pressing are currently listed for sale online from A$145 – mine cost a mere 600 yen….

Also worth checking out is Prototype, which leans toward reggae, soul and funk.

Tokyo

Around the hip Tokyo suburb of Shimokitazawa are a cluster of hi-quality specialist stores, including Jet Set, which is also a label and distributor for local and international releases, mainly indie, techno, beats, ambient and electronica. There are a couple of branches of Dorama, a chain of second-hand CD stores (plus comics, magazines, graphic novels, games and DVDs). Well worth checking out, especially for promotional releases, box sets, jazz, classical, Japanese pop and electronica, and alternative international rock. I managed to find very cheap (less than 300 yen each) and long-deleted Japanese releases by United Future Organization and the late Susumu Yokota. For the latest independent Japanese releases, the Village Vanguard book store has an intriguing music section.

Further towards the city, in Shinjuku, is the institution known as Disk Union (and not Disc Union as my Australian guide-book spells it…). With 10 branches in the Shinjuku area alone (plus more than 20 others across Tokyo and in Osaka), it would probably take several days to check them all out. While they do stock selected new releases, the real attraction of browsing in Disk Union is the sheer breadth of second-hand, deleted and promotional items on sale. A case in point being the special Japanese edition of the recent David Bowie “Five Years” box set – looks wonderful but too rich for my wallet.

Finally, no trip to Tokyo is complete without a visit to Tower Records in Shibuya. This landmark, multi-storey superstore is constantly being upgraded, even though sales of physical albums are generally on the decline. It caters for most tastes, and many new releases are discounted, making it popular with locals and tourists alike. It’s great for finding the Japanese pressings of international CDs, as they usually feature additional music or limited editions not included in the European or US releases. There’s now even a section just for cassettes, both new releases and re-issues. On this occasion, I found a couple of very limited edition albums by Japan’s Silent Poets, both on sale at regular price, but which I’ve since found listed online for upwards of A$50 each…

Next week: Another weekend, another hacakathon

 

 

 

There’s an awful lot of coffee in Japan (but not much espresso…)

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Living in Melbourne all these years, I have become spoilt when it comes to the choice and quality of coffee on offer in the numerous cafes and bars around the city. So when I go overseas, I can get withdrawal symptoms if I don’t get my morning doppio. And I don’t mean an over-priced and over-rated big brand product from a certain you-know-who-you-are multinational chain store. My recent experiences in Japan, which has the third largest coffee consumption by nation, revealed that espresso-style coffee is on the increase, but is competing with some entrenched coffee tastes.

Walter de Maria "Seen/Unseen Known/Unknown" (Photo: © Rory Manchee - all rights reserved)

Walter de Maria “Seen/Unseen Known/Unknown” (Photo: © Rory Manchee – all rights reserved)

On my recent trip to Japan, I not only found some excellent new espresso outlets, I also acquired a renewed respect for siphon and filter coffee, which are both great when they are done well. As anyone who has been to Japan will know, coffee (both hot and cold) frequently comes in a can, either from a vending machine or a convenience store. In cafes, the coffee is usually brewed, and however good the coffee beans, this style just doesn’t do it for me. Rarely have I seen a cafetière (“plunger”) or percolator in use, although iced drip coffee is something of a delicacy.

From three weeks of travel, here are some of the highlights:

In Tokyo’s Ginza district, there is the Renoir Coffee Room which has a certain appeal, if you like authentic retro (i.e., it’s probably the same decor since the 1970’s, without a hint of irony or post modernism). Certainly a favourite with an older clientele, presenting a genteel atmosphere (somewhat undermined by the popular smoking section) and a reminder of a slower, gentler time. In the absence of espresso, I had a standard filter or pour over coffee, and despite being a little on the weak side, it had just enough of a roasted flavour to compensate. Rating: 6/10

Over in hipsterish Ebisu, I was expecting to find loads of local coffee shops, packed with neo-beatniks, retro-hippies and proto-punks, and the constant hiss of espresso machines. Not to be – maybe it was too early in the afternoon, but there were few options. Marugo Deli is more of a juice bar and organic cafe, that also happens to serve espresso. It was a friendly place, nice atmosphere, but the coffee was nothing special. Rating: 6/10

Down in Himeji, after a challenging climb to the top of the castle on a hot day teeming with hundreds of other visitors, it was a welcome relief to escape into the cool, calm comfort of Hamamoto Coffee. Again, they don’t serve espresso, but they specialise in siphon coffee (something I probably haven’t had since I used to visit the former Martinos Coffee Lounge in Hong Kong’s Causeway Bay in the 1990s). Sitting at the counter meant that I got to see the whole process close up, as the bar tender kept several siphons going at the same time. It’s as much an art as working a good espresso machine, and makes for interesting entertainment. The coffee itself was bold, yet mellow at the same time – full-bodied but smooth with an almost zesty edge. HIghly recommended. Rating: 8.5/10

Wandering around Kyoto‘s hipster quarter close to Nijo Castle, I came across Cafe Bibliotic Hello! (quirky name, quirky building!!!) where it’s easy to while away the time browsing through the library of art books and sampling the excellent baked goods from the adjoining store. The espresso was a welcome bonus, and was the best I’d had up until then on this trip. Rating: 8.5/10

Outside Kyoto, in Saga-Arashiyama (near the bamboo forest), % Arabica has recently opened its second Kyoto coffee shop. Overlooking the river, this tiny cafe is really only a takeaway stand, but everything has been designed for maximum aesthetic effect. There’s clearly a personal statement being made here, almost verging on the pretentious/precious, but not surprisingly it is very popular with the passing visitors. And the coffee is also pretty good – full-roasted, robust, just enough acidity, and an excellent crema. Rating: 9.5/10

Back in Tokyo, nearing the end of my trip, I spent a day walking around the district of Kiyosumi-Shirakawa, visiting the numerous galleries, second-hand bookshops and the Kiyosumi Gardens. In 2014, the New Zealand-based Allpress Espresso roastery and cafe group opened a branch here, in a former timber warehouse. It’s an interesting space, and is bringing some serious competition to a rival coffee roaster nearby (which only serves filter coffee to its customers). However, not all the locals seem to have taken to espresso – after having the coffee menu explained to them, a number walked out without trying, looking somewhat confused. But for me, having an Antipodean barista was obviously a plus. Rating: 9/10

Finally, I tried a couple of other espresso bars on my stay in Shimo-Kitazawa, one of which was not much more than an espresso stand, offering good coffee (Rating: 7.5/10), but the service was very slow. I can’t remember the name, and I can’t find a website for it, but it was close to the west entrance to the railway station. This trendy neighbourhood has a number of well-regarded coffee shops, but sadly, I did not have enough time to visit many of them. Next trip, perhaps.

Next week: More #FinTech stuff