I grew up hearing a bit of apocrypha about Frederick Winslow Taylor, the first industrial scientist. He examined how modern factory work could be made more productive.
The story went that Taylor suggested changing the lighting on factory floors every few weeks. It didn’t matter if you made visibility better or worse. Productivity improved regardless of what was done because workers thought management, in adjusting the lighting, was paying attention and therefore cared.
Similar thinking goes into agency decks. The last 77-pages are never considered but agencies are required to present 164-page decks to show they care.
Last week, I was in Manhattan for a dental appointment and an appointment with my eye doctor.
As is de rigueur today, I almost immediately got a text from my dentist asking me to rate my dental experience.
I didn't have a dental experience, by the way. I went to the dentist. Calling a dentist visit an experience is like calling being fired right-sized. It's antiseptic pablum designed for the anesthetized.
I happen to believe that such requests for feedback don't change actual service or how you receive treatment. They are performative gestures that have nothing behind them. Like a psych experiment where you're supposed to zap someone you can't see for saying something wrong. We're testing our ability to inflict pain and follow orders, nothing more.
We are in a Milgram experiment. We have no choice but to enjoy the shocks.
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| Pssst. Every ad is annoying or not interesting. And seen too often. But we only pretend to care. |
For the past two months "The Wall Street Journal" has been inundating my LinkedIn feed with a commercial that from its opening frame makes my skin crawl. As quickly as I can, I go to whatever drop-down menu I'm offered and click to make it so I'll never see the ad again. I'm even asked why I find the ad so ugly, barbaric and irksome. Nevertheless, about ten minutes later, I'm served the same ad again.
Milgram experiment.
My sense is that about 97% of business, Human Resources departments, 360-performance reviews, are like the carbon molecules that exploded from the Big Bang 11 billion years ago. They hurdle through the cosmos, bounce off of myriad objects and are of absolutely no consequence whatsoever.
How many times have you not gotten help from a phone call, or worse, a chatbot, and the interaction--where you got no satisfaction--ends with the humanoid asking you "is there anything else I can help you with."
If you answer, "you didn't help me," you spiral into a doom loop of their not-understanding because we, as victims of corporate ignoring, as supposed to be appreciative of being treated like crap.
All these surveys, all the synthetic glad-handing and laminated signs that say "thank you for your business," are as phony as processed cheese food.
Milgram experiment.
The way to care is to work hard and show you care. It's to listen. To be responsive. To make changes where necessary.
Once I was in an expensive hotel in Kansas City. My room wasn't ready till after six. Since I wouldn't be back until 10PM, I asked that my bag be brought up when my room was ready. It wasn't. What's more, an interior door doorknob fell off in my hand as I tried to open the door.
I said to the clerk as I checked out the next morning that I would never stay at this hotel chain again. His recompense was to offer me points for the chain I said I'd never stay in. Seven years later, I get a monthly email from the chain apprising me of my points and how I can use them.
They're testing you. They're seeing how much bushwa they can inflict before you throw your Mac (and everything else) out the window.
This is how business is done today.
Is there anything else I can help you with?
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