Saturday
19Dec2009

Customer service (again)

More so than ever, I am convinced that we are in the midst of some form of commercial decay. The accountants have had too much say in how businesses are run for far too long. This started in the late 1980’s and is continuing to get worse.

There are many reasons to be in business. The one that is topmost in almost every business these days is profit. Which, of course, is the cornerstone of existence, because without it a business will eventually cease to be and people would lose jobs. But, other reasons, such as being the best at doing something, keeping customers happy, supplying things that customers actually want and general goodwill are no longer reasons on their own merit. They are only valued if they are are profitable enough, and only then if they are profitable in the short term.

Fake Steve Jobs has recently taken AT&T in the USA to task over this, since they appear to be skimping on investment in their own infrastructure.

Every time you phone a company, and find you have to repeat your complaint multiple times, or can’t understand a word that the offshore call centre operator is saying, or a company fails to deliver something you’ve paid for and it takes many days to get a refund you are seeing another case where profit is valued more highly than something else that is important.

Not a week goes by without seeing a good example of this decay. Last night alone, our Tescos delivery failed to come (maybe, it was the 7 inches of snow), but maybe a phone call explaining their problems, or even an email. Maybe an offer of reattempting delivery today? Afraid not, all our slots are taken until after Christmas - overtime anyone? Extra effort to help customers that have been let down? They can take our money instantly, but the refund takes 3-5 business days, so when we went to buy the shopping today, twice the weekly shop money has been debited from our account until Tesco or Natwest get around to letting us have the first lot back.

Anyway, I wanted to write again about switching Broadband providers. Broadband in this country is going to the dogs. Five years ago, when I had been forced to switch from cable to ADSL by a house move, I did some research and found that Pipex was one of the best - and they were. They gave me exactly what I wanted, a bare wires service - I provided the router and they provided a connection. No proxies, no traffic shaping, no filtering email ports. And it was the speed they advertised - brilliant. I recommended them to several people, and how embarrassed am I by the recent rounds of acquisition. Pipex got bought by Tiscali, one of the broadband providers that had the lower reputations when I did my original research. Almost overnight the quality dived. Now they have merged with TalkTalk.

My father has had no end of trouble since Pipex became Tiscali. Where he lives there are NO unbundled operators, which means that every provider is actually provided by BT.

About a year ago, my parents were constantly irritated by the loud buzzing on their phone. They reported the problem to BT, who weren’t interested since testing showed that the noise was caused by the Broadband. They said it was Pipex’s problem. Pipex did tests and said the broadband was working fine, hence it wasn’t their problem, but it could be my parent’s equipment (router or microfilters), or wiring in the house. Being a gadget freak, I had spares and we could also rule out the wiring. The problem continued despite equipment swaps and running everything off the master socket. My parents jumped through hoops, getting an old wired phone out the loft, making many phone calls to each, getting myself to try another router, other microfilters - moving equipment from the study to the living room for days on end. Buck passing continued, and no-one would come out. In the end, my dad accepted the threats of a £120 callout charge from BT should they find the fault to be his equipment, OR the broadband providers.

What he, and I, couldn’t understand is that the broadband provider subcontracts back to BT anyway, since the local exchange doesn’t have any unbundled providers, so in effect the issue only rested with one entity. Why should my dad give a shit about which department it was?

So, they came out, and it was wet wiring in the street. One month, 20 odd phone calls, many hours of aggravation and it was sorted, by the first company my dad rang who did everything in their power to avoid responsibility. Did anyone care how much goodwill they destroyed? I don’t think so.

This story has a second part, when my dad decided that he should put everything with one company, so that he would only have one company to talk to if there was a repeat of this issue. I’ll post that part in the next couple of days.

Friday
18Dec2009

Broadband Robbery

My current mood for blogging is to use it for moaning about various things. My last entry was about how web UI designers assume too much knowledge, considering that their demographic is now pretty much the whole population.

This one is about a practice that broadband providers have adopted to bleed an extra months money out of you if you switch to another provider.

Buried in most broadband contracts there is an innocent little phrase basically saying that you have to give notice of termination, typically 30 days. Fair enough, you think. Well, it would be if the notice period started at a reasonable time, like when you told them you were moving.

Unfortunately, they can’t do that.

Apparently, the day you give them notice, they give the cancellation order to BT, who will cancel within 30 days. Which, could be the very next day. So, of you want continuous service you can only give notice on the day your new connection starts.

The bottom line is that you have to pay for one month twice, with both the old and the new providers.

So, the contract is a way of saying someone wants your money for doing fuck all, regardless of your intent to give fair notice.

I told them that their contract was unfair, and would not hold water, but they weren’t going to back down. I then asked to speak to someone about cancelling our 3 iPhone contracts, and they backed down - amazing! Yes, O2 were the culprits this time, but I understand the practice is widespread.

Monday
07Dec2009

Converting a Dinosaur to the 21st Century

I have been recently taking a much more active interest in user interface usability. In my role as a software contractor, I have been working on websites with 100,000s of users. I have been party to many deeply involved discussions as to the impact of splitting a page into two, or the opposite, combining two pages into one. There are many pro’s and con’s of both and getting a commercial website that doesn’t experience excessive drop-off is an art which I have slowly come to appreciate. There have been studies by Google showing that even a half second additional load time can decrease the number of people staying on the site by a marked percentage.

The other influence has been watching my father come to terms with the 21st century. There isn’t really much choice about whether of not you are going to embrace the world of the internet any longer. Adverts no longer list a phone number, they show web addresses. Big companies don’t want to talk to you, they want you to read FAQs, send emailed enquires, etc.. My father dived in with both feet - on-line banking, national lottery, email, Facebook, the lot.

Watching his struggles has made me realise that the creators of such websites don’t give the slightest consideration for relatively inexperienced users. And the help desks assume knowledge that typical people simply don’t have - have you tried this, have you done that? Loads of jargon ridden gobbledygook - I understand what is being asked, but I think “How the hell is my father supposed to understand that?”

So, lets start with the National Lottery web site. What an user interface disaster. My dad simply wanted to pop in his regular numbers and wait for the winnings to roll in.

So, he has to create an account, and there are really complicated password complexity rules, and he needs a unique username. So, he takes about a dozen attempts to get a combination it accepts, neither of which is something he really wanted, so not surprisingly he forgot what it accepted within about two seconds - which of the myriad combinations was it again? In my opinion, the email address could have been the username, reducing the complexity by one step, and the password rules could have been a tad less intense.

Once you are in, it is not at all obvious how to put in your numbers - choices abound, menus down the left, menus across the top, and choices in the middle of the page. Eventually, dad stumbled on the direct debit configuration page, and puts in his details, then he goes to put in his numbers and he is prompted for a credit/debit card. Oh, and what is his password again, oh bugger, we forgot that, and we need to reset our account, and we have yet another password.

So, now dad is sat waiting for his winnings to roll in. He has emails galore. Direct debit this, direct debit that. A couple of weeks later, he goes to check whether he has won anything and finds that none of his numbers had been placed. One of those multitude of emails was to tell him his direct debit had been cancelled, but why? No-one knows. He has set it up again, and all seems ok now. But, why are these systems so complicated?

Now, my dad is a keen Lexulous player, and the version he got addicted to is embedded inside Facebook. So, he is also a Facebook user. He hates Facebook. He gets notification emails when people send him messages, which he can’t reply to. It makes total sense to reply to a message, but it doesn’t work (BTW, it works correctly on LinkedIn). The little notification counter in the bottom right of the screen always reads 99, no matter what he does because every time someone makes a move on Lexulous, every time someone messages him during a game, every time someone sends him a Facebook message, every time someone invites him to join some stupid game he’s not interested in the counter goes up, which is dozens and dozens of times per day. So, playing a nice relaxing game of Lexulous results in never ending stress.

Throwing all this shit in his face constantly isn’t going to make him sign up, join in, buy or anything else, but it is going to stop him from playing, one day. (I know there are ways and means of reducing the noise, but HOW IS HE GOING TO FIND OUT?). A simple notice on each annoying message saying “click here to never see one of these again” would help.

If you’re one of dad’s friends on Facebook, do him a favour, don’t invite him to play Farmville, Social questions, or whatever spam system that is stealing all your social network information this week because he isn’t interested, honest. (But do send him personal messages, we’ve got that bit sussed now).

Now, the banks get quite a thumbs up, mostly. Even the Spanish one has an English version of the site that is mostly understandable. But, quite regularly the HSBC online bank just refuses to let him log in. When he rings the help desk they say it’s because he has the web site in his “Favourites” (Hey, help desk people, not everyone has Internet Explorer, so don’t confuse my dad by mentioning something that isn’t even on his machine). Now, as a web developer I struggle to see how having a bookmark can break the authentication system, but if I found a way, I would make sure I fixed it so my site didn’t behave that way. I mean, why should someone have to always type in the web address? (Oh, and I checked, the bookmark was to the login page, not somewhere deep in the site). Now, that is crap.

My dad has done amazingly well to start using computers in his 67th year, and being able to do email, banking, play games, book flights, and loads of wonderful things, but I suspect he hates it, and all because there are so many bloody lazy developers. If you want to find out how crap your website is, drop me a line and we’ll arrange for my dad to do some web usability consultancy for you.

Friday
20Nov2009

Brief analysis of my crap tempo run

On Tuesday evening I had my worst training run for weeks. I’ve just got back onto proper training again after pulling my calf muscle, and was really enjoying my runs. Last Saturday was a breeze, 6 miles at a 10m50s pace, and I had loads of energy left in me.

I was supposed to do 4 miles at 10m40s. Which, after Saturday, seemed very achievable. This was not the case, and I only managed 2.8 miles and I had a couple of rests, even then. How could it have all gone so wrong?

Quite simply, I was too keen (or maybe cocky!). The 10 minute warmup jog should be a SLOW jog, I did it 1 minute per mile faster than I had planned - the bloody watch was bleeping and flashing “Slow down”, but I couldn’t. Then, the tempo run part started badly too. I ran the first mile 20 seconds too quickly, now a tempo pace is meant to be pushing your ability so to go off this much too quickly was inviting trouble. At this point I needed a brief walk (45 secs). After that, I nailed the pace, but I was knackered and needed to keep stopping until I gave up.

Hopefully, the next one will be more disciplined and that will be enough to make it doable.

Saturday
07Nov2009

Great Eastern Run 2009

Some of you may know that I ran a half-marathon in October. Here, better late than never, is my race report.

I had been training since the beginning of July, with the goal of merely being able to run the 13.1 miles. Also, so that I was targeting my training, I wanted to complete the race in less than 2 hours 30 minutes. At the outset, I struggled running 6 miles, as my first race at Brentwood proved. So just over three months to build up to a half-marathon was quite a challenge.

Those three months turned me from a reluctant runner, only running while I could stay disciplined with my fitness, to a keen runner. A keen runner that is still a beginner.

I had still been struggling with longer distances and stamina, but was a much stronger runner than I was in July, the previous week I had ran another 10k race at Southend, much faster and I finished strongly. So, full of optimism we made our way to Peterborough for the start.

Supporting Alison and I this time was my dad, with his trusty camera, and my cousin Sue from Australia who had been visiting. We knew that the entrant limit was 7000, so I was a little worried about finding a car park with spaces. I shouldn’t have worried, we found a space in the first car park I went to. The weather seemed ideal for a long run - cool, overcast, and slightly miserable with not much threat of rain. Perfect.

Alison looking readyWe arrived with about 40 minutes to spare before the start, and immediately went in search of the toilets. We found them, along with hundreds of people queueing. There was no prospect that we would get to the front before the race started, and we were just debating options when the tannoy announced that runners should go to the start line. I was getting quite uncomfortable, but after all these months I wasn’t going to allow myself to miss the start, so off we went. I’m glad we missed the hype and circus of the mass warmup though!



Waiting, waiting, waitingIt was a bit sad splitting up at the start, dad and Sue went off to the car to dump our coats and bags, and Alison moved nearer to the start line. I hang back quite a way, fully aware of where I fitted. In fact, I was feeling a little out of place, surrounded by thousands of athletic looking runners. So, on my own I waited, and waited, and waited.



Looking a bit lostThis race was by far the largest I had been in, and it was showing. Impossible toilet queues, forming up to start half an hour before the race. I was getting more and more nervous as time crawled on. And I felt more and more out of place.

At last! The start! It was great, I was full of energy and forcing myself to slow down. I had to run 11 minute 20 second miles to hit my self-imposed target, and I was averaging 10m47s until the first water station at around three and a half miles. The atmosphere was fantastic, my pace was keeping me with a bunch of guys and gals dressed in pink tights, wigs and tutus that were collecting money while pushing a chap in a wheelchair. They had loud horns and had a party atmosphere that helped keep me full of energy.

That water station was a relief - not for the water, but for the lone portaloo that had only one person queueing at it. Ahh! A two minute pause, much needed.

The next point of interest was the “motivation mile” around 5 miles in. Loud, motivating music played from a very effective speaker system along the mile, along with some inspirational comments from a presenter pushing us on. I was still maintaining the same pace, and felt I could go all day.

The Course

I was so wrong, and things started to fall apart around mile 9. I started to intersperse my running with some walking, and did that mile in 12m50s - if I could have maintained that pace, I would have still come in ahead of my target, but the running got less and the walking more, and the next three miles were at a consistent 14m00 pace. It was a shame to lose sight of the pink tutus around this time.

I think I would have gone even slower, had I not been rescued. A generous lady saw me struggling about a mile before the end, and stopped to talk. We chatted about running, and I must admit I can’t remember much of the conversation, but we ran and walked together to the finish. The camaraderie and distraction helped me forget my discomfort a bit, and spurred me on to the finish. I discovered her name after reading the race results, so I can say “Thank you, Mim Baczkur”.

The sight of the finish line was even more welcome than the portaloo near the beginning. Everyone was waiting, and I think I managed a strained smile.

Happy?Going strong

I have a medal now! For a half marathon, and 160 more people followed me over that line. I was impressed by the goodie-bag too - Lucozade Hydroactive, Mars Bar, a banana, the medal, a decent tee-shirt and a bottle of water. It didn’t look impressive in the sponsors carrier bag though!
Crashed out