Why your most dangerous customer may be your most polite one.
Craig Revel Horwood has a new job. He’s teaching British people how to be rude.
No need to come north of Carlisle, Craig. We’re good up here.
Gordon Ramsay grew up in Glasgow. The Scots think Ramsay’s Kitchen Nightmares is a travel show, so we’re particularly well versed in the technicalities of swearing.
The difficult question for Scottish parents is knowing when the time is right to have the talk. Four? Five? Do you wait until they start school?
Personally, I think it’s better they learn these things at home.
“Now son, you’re four, so you’re old enough for us to talk about something important. It’s called expletive infixation.
“You might have started noticing some of the older boys doing it. Perfectly natural. But if you’re going to do it, I want you to do it properly.
“When you go to see Hibs against Aberdeen this weekend, you need to be very careful where you place the expletive. Front, end AND middle.
“‘Oi, you effing idiot. You should have gone to Specs-bloody-savers, you ass.’
“See? Nothing to be embarrassed about. Good boy. And remember. Don’t tell your mum.”
Anyway.
It turns out Craig’s new job is real. He’s been appointed “Professor of Impoliteness” by Take Five to Stop Fraud.
And there’s a rather good reason.
We British are apparently so painfully polite that we struggle to hang up the phone. Even when we don’t want to be on it.
New research found that 53% of UK adults have stayed on an unexpected call longer than they wanted. Almost a third worry that hanging up too quickly might seem rude.
Think about that for a moment.
Someone you don’t know phones you. You didn’t ask them to. You don’t want to talk to them. You may even suspect they’re trying to steal your life savings.
And yet a little voice in your head says: “Obviously we should hang up. But let’s not be rude.”
It’s almost a shame they’re not trying to steal our life savings in person. We could put the kettle on. Perhaps make them a nice cress sandwich.
“More tea?”
“No, thank you. I really must get going. I’ve still got your neighbour’s pension to clear out before six.”
“Of course. Take a sandwich for the road.”
There’s something rather wonderful about this. And slightly terrifying.
Because underneath the British awkwardness is something rather interesting.
We have a tendency to assume that if people continue doing something, they must be reasonably happy doing it.
They aren’t.
Sometimes they’re simply tolerating it.
And businesses make exactly the same mistake with customers.
The customer waited. They called back. They filled the form in again. They explained the problem to somebody else. They chased. They didn’t complain.
And eventually they got what they wanted.
Excellent. Another successful customer journey.
Somewhere, an accountant fills in a column on a spreadsheet.
CUSTOMER RETAINED.
Meanwhile, the customer is sitting at home thinking: “I am never dealing with these people a-bloody-gain.”
Excellent use of the expletive.
Somewhere in Scotland, a four-year-old nods approvingly.
But that’s the bit the spreadsheet doesn’t see.
Customers rarely give you the courtesy of announcing the precise moment they’ve had enough. They don’t necessarily shout. They don’t necessarily complain. They don’t necessarily tell you where to stick your customer journey.
They can be remarkably polite about the whole thing.
Until they leave.
And once they’ve gone, they may never come back.
So here’s a little exercise for Monday morning. Take one hour and listen to some customer calls.
Score each one:
1 — We created no value for the customer.
3 — We created value. No more, no less.
5 — We created value AND made it remarkably easy for them.
Got nothing but 5s? Well done. Go and have a Tunnock’s Tea Cake.
It’s the 1s and 3s I’d worry about.
Write down why those customers called. Pick one recurring call type. Then follow that customer’s journey from beginning to end.
Not the department. Not the SLA. Not the bit your dashboard measures. The customer.Find out why they needed to call. Find the effort. Find what in the system created it.
Then fix the damn thing. Then pick another. And another.
Because your most dangerous customer might not be the one shouting at you.
It might be the one being terribly polite.
Right up until the moment they say:
“Good-bloody-bye.”
