Service Over Resolution
Having said this a time or twenty, and then having two related conversations in the office today, I decided to take a stab at another article. As I am often wont to do, I relate my contact center strategies with food and dining experiences.
Several years ago, I took my children to a local franchise of a sizeable steak and salad bar chain. Of course, I ordered my favorite New York Strip, medium rare, and a loaded baked potato.
Few things are more satisfying as a meal. While this was no proper chop house, I was still quite excited and hungry.
Now, for those who have never worked a restaurant kitchen, there is this thing called "selection". Selection is all about picking the right cut of meat for the level of done-ness. A selection for a rare steak is vastly different than that for a well-done steak. You must take only a few moments to review your refrigerated inventory, rather than just reaching in a bin and grabbing the first thing you touch.
Well, the cook on this particular night was not so thoughtful. After waiting just a little bit too long to get our meals, my steak was served and I instantly recognized that it was slightly overcooked. Because I was hungry (really, I was bordering hangry) I decided to just eat it as is.
Bad choice.
The steak was better selected for a well-done, leather-lover's steak. Gristle, too much fat, and not medium rare. My experience took a huge nose dive. And then the service person disappeared for a little too long.
So I took another stab at the salad bar to assuage my hunger. While I was eating my salad, the service person returned and asked how everything was. Quite directly, I described the inadequacies of my steak. Too long to be served, overcooked, and a poor selection. I advised the server to inform the kitchen that they should pay more attention to steak selection and proper preparation.
The server asked if I would like a new steak. I responded that I was fine and only wanted the message delivered to the kitchen. The server left our table and we continued to eat.
Within perhaps two minutes, the server returned to our table with an empty plate and quickly jabbed a fork into my steak. She said, "I'll just take this back to the kitchen to show them what you mean. We'll get a new steak right out to you."
Meanwhile, I'm staring at the space where my steak used to be. Instead of seeing my steak, I saw green globules of congealed fat and broiler gunk.
Now I'm feeling agitated...and ill.
As I'm wondering if I can finish my disastrous meal, the manager came to my table. (Note: This is the ONLY thing the server did right. Though it would have been entirely unnecessary had she just delivered my message.) The manager apologized profusely about my steak. He agreed that it was a poor selection and certainly not cooked properly. I was assured that the kitchen staff had been coached over the mistake and my feedback was delivered.
I thanked the manager and stated that all I wanted was to ensure the kitchen folks got the message. That's all.
The manager then told me he was comping my meal.
"No need," I responded. I had eaten from the salad bar. I ate my potato. Those parts of the meal met my expectations. I restated that I only wanted to have my feedback given to the kitchen. The manager shook his head affirmatively, thanked me, and walked away.
As we were wrapping up our meal, the manager returned to our table with an envelope.
Let me pause at this point. Have you seen the video clip titled It's Not About the Nail? Watch it. It's brilliant, succinct, entertaining, and relevant. Now back to my story.
The manager is now explaining to me that he is so sorry about my meal being unsatisfactory. He felt so bad, and while he recognized that I refused his offer to comp my meal, he decided to comp everybody's meal. In the envelope was the cash equivalent of the total bill for me and my kids. Being that there was five of us, there was close to $110 being given back to me.
I told the manager that his gesture, while kind, is entirely unnecessary. He insisted, thanked us for coming in, and expressed hope that we would return soon.
I. Was. Angry. On many levels, I was incensed. Let's list the reasons why.
- The kitchen staff chose the wrong cut of meat and cooked it incorrectly.
- The service person ignored my desire not to return the steak.
- The broiler, apparently, was disturbingly dirty, and that grime was conveyed to my plate.
- The manager ignored me. Completely.
Just as we see in It's Not About the Nail, the act of *just listening* is one of the greatest things we can do in the service delivery world. Actively listening defines the foundation of each service interaction. If the service person had listened to my request, none of this would have happened. If the manager had listened to my feedback, none of this would have escalated.
To wrap up the story, I left the envelope on the table. Foolish? Egotistical? Stupid? Guilty on all counts. Though I felt I had to make my point, perhaps I should have just taken the money.
Except it was about service, not money. The service person and the manager tried to make the interaction all about resolving my issue. Their focus on resolution only served to make me never want to return. In focusing on resolution, the completely forgot to listen to me and seek to understand my concerns and feedback.
So how does this tie in to this article's title, Service Over Resolution?
My contention is that more companies, contact centers specifically, need to recognize that the drive for First Contact Resolution (and similar metrics) is nice, important, and the wrong place to establish your primary focus.
Instead, create service cultures and values focused upon listening, improving the service experience, and making the customer feel as if they were well taken care of. This will organically lead to resolution.
Deliver a great service and the customer problems will be minimized. And your customers will be overwhelmingly pleased.