INTERACTIONAL TRANSACTIONS

By now, it’s apparent that we shop … or, at least, spend lots of time in visual retail contemplation.

[That’s online and off, if it matters.]

So we creatures of habit were slightly intrigued by Square CEO Jack Dorsey’s suggestion that we do more with purchase receipts than stuff them in shopping bags.  Others have followed up on that recommendation, with ideas ranging from talking receipts to those that extend the conversation via tone, brand, and voice.

Notice we said “slightly.”  Those little pieces of paper are, in our hands, annoying; we collect them in one place, then file for the annual IRS drudgery (and accountants’ delight).  If we belong to a frequent buyers’ club, we’ll note the points – and, perhaps, the rewards.  Then crumple them up.  Other than that, they’re a legally required nuisance mandated for all U.S. retailers.

What would it take for us to pay attention to our transaction?  Here are a few of our brainy-isms:

• Make it pretty.  Seriously, we’re like magpies, attracted to glitz and glitter.
• Make it useful.  That might include an embedded chip or flash drive, ready to input into our QuickBooks or waveaccounting or other records management.  [Then again, there’d probably be an upcharge for this … ]
• Make it memorable.  Gift cards, especially from the majors, are usually well packaged.  Tiffany’s lovely blue box, Starbucks’ pick-your-own plastics, Neiman’s always-smart ‘you’ve got a gift’:  Why not the receipt?

Or:  We’d easily be swayed to go the other way, giving our salespeople a memory stick and asking them to upload our receipts.  Period.

Too much brand conversation is, at times, simply too much brand talk.

A WORLD WITHOUT ...

A tucked-away article at the bottom of a Wall Street Journal mid-section raised our hair (or is it hackles?).

Quite simply, reporters investigated companies who’d either done away with or never had a human resources function.  Obviously, the article came in with mixed reviews, either citing CEOs who wanted to force personnel (argh!) issues to the middle or those who were mandated, legally and otherwise, to establish a bona fide HR department, with a credentialed executive.

Why the freak-out?  Because if it happens to this type of staff position, it could occur to any non-line function.  At any time.  For any reason. 

Specifically, our objections to the “out with HR” policy:

• Leadership is asking middle managers to do way too much.  Imagine juggling 401(K) education with a fire drill for retaining a client.
• Between listening to customers and listening to employees, there’s a whole universe of technical information to master.  Software can’t always handle it.  Nor can the general manager.
• Mediating among conflicting viewpoints takes some real training – and practice.  Name us the managers in your cadre who can do it well.  [Not just do it.]
• Ever get 100 percent compliance in the performance management cycle?  We thought not …

We heard you (and point taken):  It’s difficult to merchandise a ‘soft’ skill, a ‘soft’ capability like people management and communications and graphic design.  Everybody fancies him/herself a people manager, an editor or advertiser or communicator. 

On the other hand, it’s imperative that we as the sitting professionals master the art of showing tangible results and how we add value to the enterprise – no matter where we sit and what we do.  Without that, we’re toast.

LIP. SERVICE.

Of late, our preferred readings are filled with words like ‘customer experience’ and ‘customer delight’ and ‘customer excellence.’

To be honest, those phrases proliferated in the early aughts, in the ‘90s, and just about in any non-recessionary years that recognized the importance of the customer.

Usually accompanying those phrases are the accepted paragons, from entertainment wizard Disney and Seattle retailer Nordstrom to the ladies and gentlemen who work for the Ritz Carlton.  Everyone uses them as exemplars.  Many benchmark their practices, while others actually model new initiatives based on what they’ve uncovered as top-quality customer principles.  Changes in that organization’s customer experience are then rolled out across the businesses, with samples and stories galore.

What’s often missing?  The bottom layer.  The culture.  Genuine care.  A sense that  employees have fully bought into the idea, are schooled in the how-tos, and are completely attuned to customers they talk to, meet, and serve.  And furthermore, they consider it integral to their job success.

We know that, in Japanese primary education, they train all students in the art of omoiyari or hospitality, in the broadest sense.  It’s service that expects nothing and is given with grace and respect to anyone and everyone.  It’s more than just checking a list or delivering from obligations.  It’s simply heartfelt and authentic service.

Being professional, in the best of all ways, means an acute sensitivity to others’ needs and wants.  Though, perhaps, we can’t expect that kind of emotional commitment from a wait or counter person, from a store clerk or a pharmacy associate, we do think it’s time to re-institute the art of work.

I THINK THEREFORE I AM

Mom wasn’t right.

When we chose to double-major in English and philosophy, the parental unit had a fit.  “Completely worthless!  What will you do with that kind of education?  Explain the jobs you’ll be able to apply for … (and so on).”

[And we went right ahead anyway.]

The latest in business thinking vindicates our choices.  No less august an institution than the Carnegie Foundation issued a report on undergraduate business education, saying it was too narrow, it didn’t challenge students to question assumptions, to think creatively, and/or to understand the place of business in a larger context. 

The solution:  Major in philosophy.  It teaches not what to think, but how to think, looking behind blind assumptions  to question supposed answers.  Philosophy also trains us to manage complexity and make solid decisions for the company as well as for society.

Way back when, we studied all manners of philosophers, from Plato to Heidegger (our main prof had a weakness for Martin).  In class, we argued and fought, constructively, figuring out how to logically refute and look for options.  Outside, we explored the whys of existence, the purpose of us, and our relationships to institutions and society.  It was pretty heady stuff, somewhat forgotten when we became journalists.

Today, a number of consultancies have risen from philosophical underpinnings.  Senior tech execs, Reid Hoffman of LinkedIn, for one, tout their beginnings in this discipline.  Most important:  When you share your worldview, you’re creating a connection with another individual or institution (a/k/a alignment).

Should we all become philosophers in pinstripes? 

ALL ABOUT EYEBALLS

A year or so ago, we lamented the demise of magazines – and reminisced about our fondness for print.

That decline hasn’t changed.  In many cases, Publishers’ Bureau reports it’s gotten worse, with digitals grabbing market and ad and visual shares everywhere.  [Except for celebrity, men’s fitness, and ‘focused’ mags.]

But the sadnesses really struck home when Ladies’ Home Journal announced it was out of the subscribers’ business this July, moving to quarterly newsstand issues.  Sure, its heyday was in the ‘40s and ‘50s.  Yet we as PR practitioners in the late 20^th century worked with editors and columnists to promote client wares and stories, and celebrated when they said it was a go. 

For those who naysay the medium, contrast it with Web experiences.  How many times have you surfed a specific topic, and gotten lost in the maelstrom that’s Google search?  Or clicked on one link and found, like Alice, that you were falling quickly through hours of unsorted (and sometime un-validated) content?

There’s a finite beginning and end to a magazine.  Something that limits our thoughts, in fact, concentrates it into our memories.  A reportorial coup like Steven Brill’s dissection of our health care system (Time magazine April 4, 2013) is meant to be dissected, digested, and discussed.  Few Web bytes can claim that.

At the end, everyone says, print will die because increasing costs and decreasing ads don’t make financial sense.  Yet, like LHJ, we “never underestimate the power of a woman.”