The Fedex rant

Here’s a first. Yesterday I needed to pay a Fedex bill and had lost the original invoice. I had the second sheet with the backup detail but there was no mailing address on it. Their return envelope just has a clear window for the address to show through, and unlike most remittance envelopes it was not preprinted with the bar code for the ZIP code, so that was no help.

So I went on fedex.com and tried “contact us” and searched for “mailing address” and “pay bill by mail”. No luck. So I called the 800 number, pushed 0 for an operator, told her I’d lost the address and needed it to pay the bill. She says “I’ll get that for you” and puts me on hold—for 5 minutes! By now I’ve done a search on Google and found a mailing address so I hang up.

How many layers of incompetence are at work here? The invoice printing people, the envelope printing department, the web folks, the telephone staff… not one had seen fit to solve a problem that must come up many times each day. It’s their money, folks, I wanted to send it to them!

Ask your payables department about Fedex and they’ll probably have a story like this. Every customer does. Good thing they’re better at shipping packages than at managing their own customer accounts.

Batteries not included.. neither is the lid for the battery case.

I just got through a holiday season filled with toys that required batteries, and something finally dawned on me. All of them now have battery covers that are attached with a tiny screw, rather than the slide-on-and-click-to-lock type that I remember.

I first assumed this was some kind of money saving move, and that somehow it cost less to use a screw than to mold a special plastic case that shuts tightly… higher quality plastic, tighter tolerances presumably being needed for the latter. But maybe not.

A bit of poking around the web suggests the screw-on battery cases are in fact for child safety and to keep kids from getting at the batteries so they can stick them in their mouths. Perhaps there’s new legislation requiring the manufacturers to use them. Anybody know?

I want to bring up a couple of points about this, which are completely random and unrelated:

* I can’t find anybody who is upset about what is really a pretty major change in toy design, no Amazon reviews or web postings by folks who are upset about the extra difficulty of dealing with the screws or the need to run out and buy a tiny screwdriver. (And by the way, in most cases these screws are really IN THERE and require a lot of torque to remove.) Suggesting as a nation we are a lot more handy than one might suspect. Wonder if there are any more hidden competencies lurking out there?

* It costs about a 1/10th of a mill (which is 1/10th of a cent) to add a little locking washer so the screw doesn’t fall out and get lost, and yet maybe 1 toy in 5 has it. So picture this. You’re trying to load the batteries while your child with trembling hands awaits. Of course the battery screw falls out and of course it disappears (possibly into the mouth of a smaller child). And now you have a lid with no way to secure it other than our old friend, Mr. Tape.

Progress?

Not so smart, J. Jill…

A woman of my acquaintance found she really, really liked the clothes from the mail order retailer J. Jill. She ordered so much that they asked if she’d like to have a credit account. Even though she had plenty of other cards, there were some minor incentives so she accepted and started getting a regular billing statement.

One month she mailed her payment late, and got a late fee. Then she left the country for two months, not realizing the late fee had been assessed. The next month there was a second late fee and the month after that she became officially a deadbeat. She begain receiving recorded calls several times a day, “please hold for a message about your J. Jill account.” The folks who were house-sitting would hang up, and the voice would call back an hour or two later. Without ever making any kind of threat or bullying statement, J.Jill simply rendered her phone unusable for incoming calls because one never knew who was on the line. Like a Boston Boot for credit.

Then she returned, found out about all this, and immediately paid all the late fees. And cancelled her account, and swore never to shop at J. Jill again. It’s illogical for J. Jill to lose a relationship over $30 in late fees, right? Yet likely J.Jill considers the whole matter a big success because they’ve discovered a new profit center in turning customers over to a credit issuer who’d pay for the privilege; after that they weren’t J.Jill customers any more, but the property and responsibility of the finance company. Not so smart.

Thank you for your business. Now goodbye.

The 5/22 mail brought a letter from AT&T Universal Card. I almost didn’t open it because it was preprinted “OPEN IMMEDIATELY: Important Account Notice” and had a preprinted first class indicia. Obviously, another of the cash advance check mailings I receive 4x a year or so.

But no. The letter inside began: “Citi, the issuer of your AT&T Universal Cash Rewards Card, has decided to discontinue this credit card for business reasons. Therefore, your account will be closed on 6/30/06. This letter outlines important information about he closing of your account.” And so it did… several single spaced paragraphs to inform me what happens to my cardmember benefits (mostly going away) and outstanding balance (it’s still there) before a final “thank you for your business” at the end.

Now let’s see here. I’ve had this card for maybe 20 years. As I recall it was a pioneer—the first high limit, fee free MasterCard. Over the years it changed hands several times and various institutions paid what would add up to several billion dollars for the customer portfolio and brand identification. And now suddenly it’s worth no more than a curt “thank you for your business” ?

Ironically, the very same day brought an email from AT&T Universal Card. They want to let me know that I should refinance my home at a low home equity rate through them because, as a Universal Card customer, “you’ve earned it!”

That quotidian email is an example of why marketers believe business relationships have value—especially when you have the kind of relationship that gives you legal permission to send an email solicitation to your customer list. Yet, I’m assuming this will be the last I hear from my friends at Universal Card. (The deadline for my loan application is 6/30, which makes sense because my card relationship goes kablooie then.)

Citi evidently believes the Universal Card no longer has any business value. I disagree. Anybody want to join me and take up a collection to buy the brand? I’m hoping $1000 will do it.

The price of security

I was recently a victim of identity theft. First, my credit card company called me wondering why I had been charging so much at walmart.com. When I said I hadn’t used my walmart.com account since 2004 (which I know because I keep all my old emails), they suggested somebody had gotten hold of my credit card info and suggested I cancel my account and get a new card. Which I did.

Then, a few days later, another call. Had I changed my billing address to somewhere in Arizona? No, I hadn’t, and the ability to do so meant that somebody had hacked my online account with the bank in a major way. This set off alarm bells requiring cancellation of the new card, plus alerts to the credit reporting bureaus of which maybe the worse repercussion for me, as a marketer, is that I am automatically removed from credit card solicitation lists for the next 5 years. (No more Capital One swipe samples for me!)

I thought the whole matter was handled just about right by CitiBank. They were efficient, not accusatory, and the paperwork required (two notarized statements from me) was tedious but reasonable under the circumstances. That got me thinking about what is the right balance between companies protecting themselves and providing benefits to consumers.

A serious lack of such balance was exhibited in my first purchase recently of a “digital edition” from Amazon. It came with onerous digital rights management (DRM) protection that requires me to go through a complex registration process, where I sign in with Adobe online, simply to be able to read the document I have paid for on my computer. It simply ain’t worth it, folks. I asked for my money back. Their rights are protected but they lose a sale. Good deal? Not for me, not for the publisher, certainly not for the author who probably has no idea this is going on.

Back in my “suit” days, I had a client who asked me if it would be a good idea to sign up with a bad check protection service which would make good any bogus paper in return for a 1.5 percent commission on ALL checks received. Sounded somewhat plausible until we did the math and found that the bad check problem was actually costing considerably less than 1.5% of sales.

People who make their living trying to cheat other people and businesses will probably find a way to do so, at least some of the time. A business needs to find a balance where it makes things somewhat more difficult for the bad guys without penalizing the average customer with unreasonable security measures. This is the same logic that applies when we talk to our clients about money-back guaranteed, isn’t it?

A money back guarantee, especially on a mail order or internet purchase, answers the big objection “what if I get it and I don’t like it after I see it?” Marketers who are reluctant to make guarantees are afraid that somebody is going to take advantage of them. But the bad guys will anyway… and meanwhile they’ve scared off a lot of potential customers who were on the fence.

Land mines in the “last mile”

Telephone companies, cable operators and such refer to the “last mile” as the final step of actually getting their service into a home or office. For marketing companies, the “last mile” is the process of actually delivering the product or service to the customer—and that’s where more and more companies fall short, perhaps intentionally.

Infoweek columnist Chad Dickerson describes a situation in which a hotel reservation was not honored because the “last mile” procedure of the online booking company was to send a fax to the participating hotel, where it was ignored. My wife had the experience of ordering expensive curtains from a company called Smith and Noble, whose “last mile” procedure when a customer complains about a missing order is to send an email to the factory and hope they respond. (This outfit couldn’t even CANCEL an order efficiently; when they still hadn’t delivered the drapes for our little vacation cabin on the next-to-last day of our stay, she was assured the order would be shipped that night overnight or not at all. Neither promise turned out to be true; our friendly neighbor signed for the package a few days later and the curtains now sit uselessly in a closet. Sure hope they fit when we show up next year…)

As to intentional disappointments, this is what happens when a company looks for ways to cut costs and finds that it can save big by lowering expectations or simply failing to meet them for the small percentage of orders that are more expensive to fulfill. This is happening now at my beloved Amazon.com, whose “Prime Shipping”—two-day shipping at no extra cost beyond a yearly fee, and overnight shipping for $3.99—is I predict destined to be a one-season wonder.

When Amazon consistently failed to get a Prime order to me in 2 days, AND email customer service failed to reach a solution or adequately explain the problem, I wrote a detailed letter to Jeff Bezos. (As a practice this is what I recommend as a final step to get a resolution from a company; if the CEO (or someone else with responsibility) fails to respond or sends you a form letter, that tells you as much as if they fixed the problem.)

In my case I got a personal response from a personal representative of Jeff’s, but she got both the shipping date and the item description wrong—data that was readily available in Amazon’s own files, of course. Trouble in the last mile which presages more disappointments down the road…

What’s wrong with the post office?

I am the world’s biggest cheapskate, yet on more than one recent occasion I stepped out of a line at the Post Office and drove across town to UPS to ship the package for three times the cost with slower delivery. I see other people doing the same thing. They arrive, look at the line, shake their head and leave.

What’s wrong with the post office? Why can’t they just take our money and mail our stuff since that, after all, is that they’re there for?

Part of the problem is that the USPS has become the shipper of last resort. Nobody is simply buying stamps. Everybody is shipping a poorly wrapped package to some mysterious place, and fluid is leaking out, and they want insurance, and the clerk tells them to rewrap the package and get back in line. (At the HEAD of the line, so even if you’ve worked your way up to the front you’re not sure you really have.)

And that’s not even the biggest problem.

Everybody’s started using Priority Mail which seems sort of like blackmail, paying extra to insure your package will arrive when it’s supposed to. So, now the post office has started selling something called “Priority Bundles”. If you say you want to ship Priority, they ask you if you would like proof of delivery, or insurance, or a signature at extra cost. Of course, it takes a lot of time to explain these options and still more time to do the paperwork. And the line grows longer.

I can see the USPS’ logic: their clerks and customers are there anyway, so selling the extra services provides pure profit. But they disregarded the opportunity cost which is so great that other customers abandon the post office… perhaps permanently.

Much of my business depends on reliable of transmission of lots of mail, so this kind of thing makes me nervous. I’m reminded of what the new Postmaster General said in Canada a few years back when he was asked some question about direct mail advertising and reliability. I’m assuming this guy was a political appointee and had not read his briefing book. He said something to the effect of “that’s ridiculous, nobody would ever had a business that depended on the post office”. Right.

“Print your boarding pass here!”

There are plenty of little internet shops that charge $2.50 for 15 minutes of access and 25 cents for a copy, but French Quarter Computer Services had the inspiration to bundle them to create a product. A textbook case of turning a service into a benefit that solves a simple but serious problem… you can now retrieve your boarding pass online in your hotel, but how do you get it onto paper to give to the airline? Their window sign stopped me in my tracks.

If you are ever in New Orleans, give these folks some business. They are at 824 Chartres, 504-525-4660.