What Customer Service Can Learn from the Homeless
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It might not be a key issue in any presidential or congressional election, but when it comes to inspiring a divisive reaction from the American public, the homeless challenge sparks a level of polarization rivaled by little else.
When considering the plight of the homeless, some are so beyond sympathetic that they barely stop short of offering rooms in their own homes as de facto shelters. Others, not so warm to the cause, take on an "American Psycho" reaction (though obviously less violent) and ponder why homeless individuals do not simply "get a job."
This article is not about the politics or morality associated with the homeless challenge and the role society may or may not play in creating it. It does, however, focus on one thing no one in business, whether personally sympathetic or apathetic to the challenge, can afford to ignore: the customer service lesson that can be had from those whose situation asks them to beg for survival.
Having lived or spent extended time in a number of metropolitan areas, I have repeatedly come face-to-face with the American homeless challenge. My current daily routine—commuting from my home in the urban Hoboken, NJ to New York City—has only amplified that level of exposure to the issue, bringing me face-to-face with homeless persons of all races, genders and ages. And yet for all the blatant demographic differences evident in those I encounter, one thing has been nearly constant across all such interactions: the gratitude these individuals offer when somebody provides them with a donation.
Whether I had given—or witnessed a friend or peer giving--a dime, a quarter, a dollar or a twenty, I cannot think of a single instance in which the "gift" was not met with a demonstration of immense appreciation from its recipient. Often, that level of appreciation is stunning; one man, to whom I gave a single dollar on an excessively-crowded street in the first week of December, called me out (with a specific reference to the shirt I had been wearing) this past Friday. And even when the appreciation comes in what cynics might call a "robotic reaction" (giving the same "God Bless You," "Happy New Year," etc. to everyone who gives), the important thing to note is that said appreciation always comes.
I contrast that outpouring of appreciation to the appreciation—or lack thereof—I receive from employees, managers and owners at so many "consumer-oriented businesses." When picking up a morning coffee or breakfast sandwich from some nearby chains, the reaction is not as much, "Thank you so much, Brian, for continuing to support our restaurant. I hope you have a wonderful day. By the way, how was your holiday? How’s the family?" as it is "Sir, here’s your order. By the way, the transaction is now over and we have your money, so we’re going to give you this dirty look hoping you’ll step away from the counter as soon as humanly possible, if not sooner."
Is there any argument as to which entity—the homeless person or the merchant—is providing the better "customer service?"
At this point, I fully expect some readers to be mentally-countering, "Clearly, this commentary is flawed. By noting how widespread curt reactions are within retail and food services, and by noting that you, in fact, frequent a place with dismissive reps, you are undermining the importance of customer service. If they know they have you hooked as a customer, why bother?" And, of course, it goes without saying that as someone who believes in helping the less fortunate, I would be inclined to give to homeless persons even if their reactions were not so universally-gracious.
Yes, life moves quickly, and the result is that one does not always have the choice to shun retailers guilty of mediocre—or even rude—customer service. In that sense, sure, some organizations are able to get away with it.
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But like most customers, I often do have a choice, and in those situations, I spend my money where I want to spend my money. When time and temperature allow, I opt to walk the extra distance to grab lunch at a restaurant with categorically-nice employees because I want to spend my money there, even though there are plenty of similarly-valued options closer to my office. The website from which I most-commonly order my nutritional supplements is notoriously more expensive than some competitors, but I prefer ordering from there because the shipping is more reliable, customer service is more accessible and they go out of the way (with email follow-ups, discount codes and free samples) to win my business.
When want comes into play, those businesses with dismissive and rude customer service reps are consistently missing out on an opportunity.
I am certainly not petty or vindictive enough to hold the homeless "hostage" and refuse to give money if I do not like the reaction I receive, but I cannot ignore the possibility that the grace I have consistently experienced has replaced a belief that I should give with a proactive desire to give. And it is certainly reasonable that such desire manifests itself in my daily routine—perhaps I am more likely to carry small bills and change and more likely to stop even when in a major rush because I truly want to give to these people?
At this point, even those readers who are on board with the overall thesis might still be wondering why it was necessary to include the homeless angle. After all, the aforementioned Eric Dodds article uses only a retail example to show how good, friendly customer service can make buyers want to spend money at the establishment. I, myself, have evaluated an inhibitor to quality retail service without leaving the comfort of the corporate realm. Why bother including such a sensitive, polarizing issue?
One of the most compelling elements of the warm appreciation shown by the aforementioned recipients of charity is the fact that their reaction is independent of both motivation and consequence. Regardless of whether one is giving because he truly wants to help, because he wants to impress a new girlfriend or because he is sick of the change clinking in his pocket, he receives a thank you for the simple fact that he did give.
And even if what he gave barely makes a dent in the price of a bottle of juice and thus has effectively no consequence on the recipient’s struggle (as is, sadly, often the case with donations to the needy), he receives a thank you for the simple fact that he did give.
No matter how much the person gave and no matter why he gave it, his act of giving contributed something to the well-being of the recipient. And for most homeless individuals that I have encountered, that something is enough to warrant appreciation, no matter how quantitatively small it may be.
Too often, customer-facing employees fail to adopt this perspective. They approach customer interactions as "impartial mediators" without any vested interest in the outcome. Whether the customer leaves happy or unhappy, or whether he buys more than he had planned or abandons the purchase in frustration, the non-sales employees are still getting the same paycheck, and their attitude reflects that.
While a customer-facing representative should be able to comprehend that the money taken in by an organization carries an impact on its ability to continually employ and compensate the rep and his colleagues (and is thus just as important to their survival as donations are to the homeless), it is admittedly challenging because they do not always get to "experience" the impact of revenue on their livelihoods. The problem, therefore, can actually be traced right up the corporate ladder.
The connection between a customer’s happiness and the representative’s ability to provide for his family might be somewhat murky, but the connection between a business’ intake and its survival is less so. A business’ existence is predicated on serving customers, and that reliance should be a centerpiece of the corporate culture. For the reps to believe in the business and are invested in its survival, they must believe in satisfying customers to the point that the customers want to continue purchasing. And that should be sufficient motivation to express gratitude every time a transaction is made.
True, each $3 cup of coffee does not make or break an international food chain, but it is not as if each drop of change substantively does anything to remedy the suffering of a homeless person. Yet the latter has the perspective to understand that each "customer" can either choose to provide that change or choose to keep walking. When they choose drop the change, they are adding value, no matter how microscopic, to the person’s life, and he is proud to show his appreciation.
Businesses—from the minimum wage cashier to the endlessly wealthy chairman of the board—must adopt that same perspective. In fact, their level of appreciation should probably be greater—their sales are not only based, in almost every case, on "wants," but are also subject to very real competition in a way far more obvious and exploitable to the everyday customer.
If you, as a customer management leader or senior executive, cannot achieve a "buy-in" for this perspective, you are placing an unnecessary hurdle on your success. No matter how well you coach employees on proper customer service techniques and enforce their "friendliness" when dealing with buyers, if they do not believe your business’ survival depends on an appreciation for each and every customer, they will not behave as if they do.
