by Susan Johnston | Oct 21, 2006 | Uncategorized |
Call anytime, but it’s better to send e-mail – Yesterday, while I sat on hold long enough to tidy my entire office, the recorded greeting told me that my bank has extended its call centre support service by two hours. Nevertheless, the recording went on to suggest sending them an e-mail for faster service. The irony is that the purpose of my call was to clarify something about online banking. Hmmm.
A friend is using the time she spends on hold to write a book – I imagine there is a statistic, somewhere, revealing that the average North American spends 1.5 months of his/her life on hold.
Would you like fries with that? – Another friend revealed today that while he was waiting for service at a technology site, the system offered him the option of waiting with or without music. I guess they didn’t read the 2002 study by France’s Université de Rennes showing that callers listening to music while on hold underestimate the length of time they’ve been waiting. Next we’ll have a choice of musical styles. But will we ever reach a human being?
Poison IVR – Broadcaster/podcaster Jeff Hoyt has some interesting thoughts on yesterday’s subject of interactive voice response systems that seem to be keeping customers separated from customer service reps. You’ll find his entertaining “Voice Jail” recording at www.hoytus.com/?p=21
by Susan Johnston | Oct 20, 2006 | Rants, Ramblings and Riddles |
I have a lovely telephone company. Through the magic of mergers, it’s also my mobile phone company, my Internet service provider and (if I had a TV) my cable company. Multiple services mean multiple reasons to contact its customer service line.
And there the loveliness ends. The organization that enables me to communicate with you and the rest of the universe seems intent on preventing customers from communicating with its helpful help desk.
Place a call to the customer care line and you’re connected with an interactive voice response system (IVR). In other words, a fake guy, with an incessantly cheerful recorded voice tries to guess why you’re calling. Our IVR Guy has advanced beyond the “Press 1 for billing enquiries” stage and saves you the digital wear and tear of button pushing. All you have to do is speak the right words.
Pray the situation fits the options offered. Unless he hears the magic words, this poor man apologizes. “I’m sorry,” he says, “I must
have misunderstood. Can you repeat that please?” Welcome to Canada, where even our robots are polite.
Outwitting the robot – Since there’s no
officially sanctioned way to bypass IVR Guy, getting to a real person requires creativity, if not cunning.
(more…)
by Susan Johnston | May 2, 2006 | Rants, Ramblings and Riddles |
I’ve always believed I could learn from anyone. But a bird? Teaching me? About leadership communication?
In recent weeks, the skies around me have been filled with migrating Canada Geese. I’ve never been interested in these critters, unless I had to chase one off the bow of my little sailboat or scrape their droppings off my shoes after an evening walk.
But coasting along the highway, I had a chance to watch them in action as hundreds headed northward.
Geese travel in a distinctive V shape. One goose’s flapping wings create an uplift for the one that follows. Apparently, that arrangement allows the flock to travel 71 per cent further than one bird could travel on its own. For the geese, this is instinct at work, yet it’s as if each trusts the other geese as well as the V formation to get them to their destination. As leaders, we start a process where the group understands and agrees on the goal and the route to get there. When we emphasize the interrelatedness of individual contributions, people see where their work fits into the whole and where other people’s work supports them.
Geese take turns leading. This is amazing to watch. When the lead goose has had enough, it drops back and someone else takes over. Sharing leadership helps the group go further. Using individual strengths strengthens the whole team. Leading can be hard; give yourself a chance to recover.
Geese honk to encourage each other. This may be unconscious for geese, sound modified by the speed of their flapping wings. But we can do it consciously. Honk! Think how marvellous it would be if all the honking we heard was encouraging. As leaders, when we practice supportive honking, we inspire others to do the same.
Geese merge their Vs without a fuss. It’s fascinating to watch a five-goose V join a larger group. From the ground, we can’t tell if they discuss leaping on board, but they just seem to forget that they’re they “new guys” and fall in. Could we use that as a model for avoiding the “them” and “us” feelings that accompany mergers, reorganizations, or even interdepartmental transfers?
Stray geese rejoin the flock quickly. If you watch one goose stray out of the formation, you’ll see it gradually work its way back to the flock. The extra effort required to go it alone isn’t worth it. Is there a lesson in this? “Conform or die?” I think not. As leaders, we can create environments where original thinkers and creative people are encouraged to move from the margins of our organizations and are included in our discussions. These are places where people express their authentic ideas, not just the ones they think we want to hear.
Geese stick by each other. If a goose is ill, injured, or shot, two others will leave the V formation and stay with it until it dies or is able to fly again. Then they catch up with another group. That’s why you’ll sometimes see two or three geese, in a cluster, flapping like mad. When we provide genuine support to people when things are rough, we build connection and mutual commitment that lasts into the good times.
So now I’m wondering where we ever got the idea that geese are silly? Sounds pretty smart, to me. I also wonder if I’ll remember all this wonderful stuff the next time I’m scraping goose poop off my shoes. Honk! Honk! Honk!
by Susan Johnston | Apr 7, 2006 | Build your own skills |
In the past few months (make that years) I’ve read everything I can on the topic of leadership. Several bifocal prescriptions later, I know qualify for guru status.
Ostensibly, I’m gathering information that can help my clients. And I’m doing research for my own book. But mostly, I’m hunting for the elusive key that will unlock the mysteries I face daily in being a leader myself.
As I stand before the great wall of leadership titles at my local Chapters store, I wonder if there is anything more to be said on the topic.
There are books that will show us how to lead from the back, the middle or the front. They’ll teach us how to lead like Jesus, Einstein, Colin Powell, Billy Graham, Attila the Hun, or even Harry Potter. Authors share their laws of leadership and secrets of success, which (oddly?) always appear in uneven numbers. Unless there are 10. Speaking of numbers, these titles tell us to run our business by the numbers – or not to take the numbers too seriously, depending on the author. Some of them wisely tell us not to take ourselves too seriously.
My reading has led me to the following conclusions:
- I lead from where I am. Back, middle, front, top, or bottom – it really doesn’t matter. Your location in the organizational hierarchy or political pecking order is unimportant. Lead from where you are, even if it’s the garage.
- I lead like myself. I’ll bet you noticed you’re not Einstein or Harry Potter. You have to find the leadership style that fits you. And you can. There is no secret formula. All those who dispense leadership advice, including me, can do no more than spark your imagination and point you in a direction for experimentation. Watch yourself in action. See what works. Change what doesn’t. Here’s where Einstein comes in. He’s the one who said doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results is insanity.
- There is one law of leadership: Treat people like people. Respect their humanity. Demonstrate empathy. Acknowledge their contribution. If we treat people as “resources,” just raw materials in the corporate success mix, they will know it. I used to work for an executive who barely knew who I was, let alone what I did. I felt I was indistinguishable from the photocopier and made weekly updates to my résumé. His successor asked my opinions, took my advice, shared his dreams, knew mine, and made me feel honoured to be part of his organization. For the first man, I worked hard. For the second, I worked well.
- There is a corollary to the one law: Show them you’re human, too. Acknowledge your own imperfections. I know a man whose motto is “Flaunt your quirks.” That may be further than most of us are willing to go. But showing your own humanity is attractive. We’re working with smart people. They know we’re not perfect. Why pretend to have all the answers? A willingness to be vulnerable can be disarming.
- I lead myself before I lead others. The days when “Do as I say not as I do” was an effective leadership tactic ended before we were born. We don’t need to be perfect, yet we do need to be awake and aware of our behaviours and our interactions.
- Taking myself seriously will make me crazy and wreck my business. Seriously, we have to lighten up. Take your business seriously. Take your relationships seriously. Take the hockey playoffs seriously (if you must). But take yourself seriously and, next thing you know, you’re on the nasty path to self-absorption, listening to ego, and losing your focus. Plus people will hide when they see you coming.
So what’s my point? Maybe what the business press calls “leadership” is really better described as “interpersonal effectiveness.” Leadership is no longer about getting people to line up behind you, follow you up the hill like good soldiers, and obey your commands. Leadership today means aligning diverse people to work on common projects to meet individual needs that may or may not overlap. As individuals, interacting with and relating to other individuals, we determine the outcome.
Field work: Notice. In your interactions with people, observe your habits. Do you really see them as people? Do you let them see you that way?
by Susan Johnston | Mar 23, 2006 | Rants, Ramblings and Riddles |
We are the Lens
As professional communicators, we stand between people and
information and give it shape and form. We are the lens through which
information is filtered. In most cases, whether we are journalists or
organizational commuicators, our intention is to make things clear for
our audiences.
Unfortunately, there are communicators who
distort the information. So the lens is scratched – or clouded with finger
prints – and the audience sees a fuzzy image.
The True Believer – Distortion by Accident
Try though we may, it’s unlikely that anyone can be truly impartial. Everyone’s view of the world is coloured by his or her experiences, learning and beliefs (and maybe their Meyers-Briggs Type and their astrological sign).
We imagine the truth, as we see it, is the real deal. We unintentionally distort the information we communicate to fit our personal world view. Knowing that we all have biases that filter the way we experience, receive and transmit information, I think it makes sense to declare them up front so your audience knows the nature of the lens. But then, I’m biased. Not only am I an over-40, Honda-driving Canadian with a liberal arts education (and an ENFJ Leo), I’m a natural optimist who believes people want to be understood and believed when they communicate.
Exceptions to that cherished belief bring us to the second type of distortion.
The True Deceiver – Distortion by Design
These are the people who deliberately set out to shape a less than truthful picture of the facts. Whether they engage in propaganda, spin doctoring, political campaign rhetoric, press agentry or “sensational” journalism, true deceivers embellish the “truth” that serves their ends and diminish what doesn’t serve them. They know they’re being “less than truthful” and so does most of their audience. This is the stuff that inspires public inquiries. This is the stuff that gets people fired. This is the stuff that scares the public and erodes trust.
Disintermediation and CEOs who blog
As communication professionals, we need to step up our efforts to get and share a clear picture, one that’s undistorted by accident or design. If we don’t, we risk redundancy.
Communicators are intermediaries in a world
that is, increasingly disintermediated. We once were the “source” for current and relevant information. Today, people don’t need to go to traditional
news organizations for news. They can go to the Internet. Consumers don’t have to rely on what companies tell them about their products. They can find rants, raves, and reviews of almost every product or service on the Net.
Online, they find everyone from lunatics to CEOs (and some who fit both categories) expressing their opinions on millions of topics. When people can go right to a web site or blog and get the story (official or unofficial) for themselves, public relations people and journalists are cut out of the game. We lose the role of leading and shaping opinion.
Some might argue that’s a good thing. But, for most people, going to the Net is a bit like a walk in the dark without your glasses. You’re dazzled by the brightest and lulled into a false sense of safety by the familiar.
I’ll argue that someone needs to take on the role of discerning what’s true and presenting it to people so bombarded with information they no longer know what to believe. That “someone” can and should be professional communicators. The trick is to demonstrate that our lens is as smudge-free as it gets. Or, at least, declare the tint of the filter.
