One-hundred percent of businesses talk about how important customer service is, how their customers are number one, how much they value their customer relationships. My experience is that, for many businesses, customer service is something to talk about, not do. Only a small percentage of companies make it a primary focus. Here’s a case in point.
Since December, 2007, I have been trying to get a major metropolitan newspaper to deliver a Sunday paper to me. My goal, as I’ve stated to them, is that “I want to wake up when I want on Sunday morning. I would like to make a cup of coffee, open my apartment door, look down and see the newspaper.”
I’m between houses and am renting in an urban area, so what I’ve asked for shouldn’t be a problem, given that distribution is one of the primary functions of a newspaper. Yet, the company’s inability to consistently provide me with a newspaper one day a week has led even their publisher to agree that their performance is unsatisfactory . . . but nothing has changed.
I first subscribed to the paper when I moved to Massachusetts in 1999. On March 9, though, I wrote a letter to the publisher canceling my subscription and asking for an explanation why they couldn’t deliver my paper. Here’s what I wrote:
“I did not receive delivery of my newspaper on the following dates: December 9, December 16, December 30, January 6, January 13, February 10 and March 9. Formal complaints have been filed, promises have been made. Alas, all to no good.
Instead of receiving my Sunday paper, I have, however, received many, many excuses from those in your organization and from your distribution center in Chelmsford. I’ve learned that there continually is a new driver (that’s the main excuse), that the driver is having a problem, that they have ‘visualized the driver leaving the paper there.’
Today, I heard again that ‘we don’t have a key for the building,’ which was not true because I’ve heard it before and spoke with the management office about it. ‘Management won’t give us a key’ is another common excuse that’s also untrue. Even if that were true, I did discover my newspaper on one afternoon, thrown out in the snow in front of our building on one of the dates in February that I did receive it, so they could at least do that.
Again, today, I was told (once again) that I would receive a replacement paper within an hour and the driver would ring me. Of course, it never showed up and no one contacted me (once again).
I’ve also heard, over the past couple of months, that ‘I don’t know what else to tell you.’”
I cannot fathom why this organization has so much difficulty performing a function so basic to its business. With increased competition from other media, one would think that in an era of declining newspaper circulation, publishers would make an extra effort to ensure customers are satisfied. Particularly in urban areas – and in my case, in a large apartment building – the marginal revenue of a single additional subscription pretty much goes to the bottom line. I can’t believe I’m the only subscriber having these problems.
The publisher wrote back to me that “the management of our circulation department has been made aware of the delivery problems you have experienced” and he hoped I would give them a chance to win back my business. The editor, who I’d also copied on the letter to let him know why his news was being read by one less person, wrote me that he forwarded it to the Senior Vice President for Circulation and Marketing and to the Director of Call Center Services (who is also listed as a “Relationship Marketing Director”).
Consequently, I was disappointed that over the next four weeks, I received only two Sunday newspapers. Opening my door was like playing Russian roulette: I never knew if a paper would be there or not. I called once and was told the paper was delivered to the wrong address. But I never received a replacement.
So I contacted the paper’s management again. The relationship director emailed me that the “horrible service . . . makes no sense” and “It will be fixed.” The publisher wrote me that “50% service is unsatisfactory.” He assured me that my delivery problems “have not gone unnoticed.”
The following Tuesday, I received a daily paper, which I do not want. The relationship director wrote that “That should be fixed.” I received emails from him about all the people in the organization he’d spoken with. But I’m not interested in how they do it. I just want to open my door and see a newspaper on Sunday morning.
Over the next three weeks, I received two Sunday papers. I also received a call from someone at the newspaper asking again about how they could get a key to the building. Since I had answered the question over and over, I referred him to the relationship director. Once more, I wrote the director. I said, “I can’t spend any more time answering anyone else’s questions on how to get your operations done. I just want my paper.”
Last week, my intercom rang early on Sunday morning. The delivery person brought the paper up and handed it to me, along with a lecture when I asked him to please just bring the paper and leave it in front of my door.
Now, I understand what it’s like to deliver newspapers. I had a rural route for years growing up, trudging through snow, in the hot sun, seven days as week – and those Sunday papers, full of ads, were heavy. I got up early before school and even had an after-school route, until the afternoon paper shut down. I learned that customers were golden – they paid your bills – and you never, ever spoke harshly to a customer.
What’s clear, other than the disconnect between management and the folks on the ground, is that customer service is not valued in this organization. It’s not a priority of the paper’s leadership and that attitude flows right down to the delivery people. A newspaper needs to write news. It needs to sell ads. But if you can’t provide that information to your customers, what’s the point? Eventually, you’re going to go out of business.
This major metropolitan newspaper is going through all the motions of customer service, but the low priority they assign to it means it is highly ineffective. I’ve written the publisher and the relationship director that “I don’t think my expectations are too high, but you can’t get the job done. Please leave me alone.”
I’ve received a response. They say that the problem is deplorable and has now been fixed. The saga continues . . . .