That Gormandizer Man

Petes

It'd be easy to criticise this, but I love it. It's simple and effective. No other information is needed. It's not in Times New Roman and there are no clipart images. Perfect.

Will London Underground ever learn?

So there I am this morning, minding my own business, going through the barriers at Paddington underground station trying to get onto the Bakerloo line.

(Image from ianapplegate's Flickrstream. An active member of LU staff.)

Well, I was trying to get through the barriers.

I inserted my £109 piece of paper and it said 'Seek Assistance.' Not wanting to waste my time nor theirs, I do what millions of commuters do and try it again in a different gate. Same results. Not wanting to hold up other commuters I walk over to the pushchair gate to a member of staff.

"Excuse me I can't get through the gates" whilst flashing my travelcard.
"... and you as well. You should be showing me your photocard."
"Excuse me?"
"Where is your photocard?"
"Here it is."
"You should show that every time you show your travelcard to a member of staff."
"Well I wouldn't need to show it if the gates I help pay for worked, would I?"
"You're supposed to show your card."
"I understand that, but I'm asking why the gate isn't working."
"I'm not going to win this argument am I?"
"What argument? I'm simply trying to get to work and I'm being held up by you."
"Show your photocard next time."
"Next time? I'd hope that the gates I help pay for will be working. Or maybe they're like that to justify your salary that I help pay for?"

At that point I walked away, muttering 'jobsworth' under my breath like every other frustrated commuter.

This isn't an uncommon scenario, but it shouldn't be overlooked.

You see, that member of staff was the first human touchpoint I'd had with London Underground for months. Everything else is mechanised. The first time I'd met an ambassador of the brand for a long time and he was unwelcoming and rude. When will brands realise that 'good service' isn't enough? (And the fact that 'good service' means 'the service you pay for' is interesting in its own right.) I pay money for a service. That service is travel. They fail on that regularly. In order to provide that service I want staff that can help fulfil the service, that are competent and approachable.

If I were lucky enough to have hair, I'd frequent a barbers that would not only style my hair as I wished, but a barbers that I was happy to spend time in and interact with the staff. And this is what every brand should be looking for. Meaningful relationships with a consumer, no matter about the type, frequency or closeness of contact. Speaking to any member of staff of a brand should always enhance the feelings toward the brand.

In marketing and advertising, you've got agencies who are trying to encapsulate the brand in non-human forms in order to drive consumers to that brand. When they get there, the staff should further enhance that. Marketing and advertising can only be truly successful if the product and brand it is working for is worth the time and effort of the consumer. If it isn't then you have problems.

The service of travelling on a busy, hot, late train underground isn't a positive brand selling point. It's a neccessity. However, I could warm to that brand if the human interaction with it is a positive thing. Are you listening, London Underground? Hello?

... and we're back

Yep, it's been a while since the big day. So long in fact that the predictable happened. I completely stopped running, ate sausages and drank continental ale. Not only when in Germany, but when I got back. For about 6 weeks.

Work has been mental since I got back so I'll use that as an excuse. Woo Communications has literally been the centre of the globalised world, and I've been working 23 hour days. Well, not really, but that worked on me for while. But there comes a point in the life of every man when he needs to stand up and be counted. When he has to step up to the plate and do himself justice. When he has to pin his intentions to his chest and fulfil his intentions and obligations. Yes, I've started running again.

The first few from the new office were exploratory and they were that type of run where you're looking for excuses to stop: "That'll do, it's only my first run since the marathon" and "Well, Rome wasn't built in a day was it." But the third was as enjoyable as pre-marathon runs. I really enjoyed it.

I think it's about mentality and pace. I genuinely find running a relaxing thing when I break through the wall. Unlike most marathon runners, I hit the wall at about 15 minutes. It's my body realising I'm going for a run, and telling me it's not happy. At about 25 minutes I get that 3 pint feeling - you know the one - where you think you can take the world on?

As for pace, well when I was training for the marathon you train at the pace you want to run the race. Nothing earth shattering there. What I found really difficult was that on the first two runs I sped up. The reason for this is that I'm thinking about a half marathon toward the end of the year. My split was two hours during the marathon, so I think the target has to be about 1:45 for a half marathon. But even that gradual increase in pace really buggered me, so for the 3rd run I ran at my normal pace. A few weeks of that, then I'll turn it up a bit and see if it's any easier.

So anyway, I bet you're all glad to know I'm writing more about this - expect more. Here's the usual lunchtime run. Only 4 miles, but very enjoyable. Besides Primrose Hill.

A letter from British Gas

This letter turned up from British Gas the other day:

(I've obviously disguised where I live because everyone on the interweb is weird)

There are two things that annoy me about this. Offend me, even.

The first thing is the obvious one. They've got my name wrong.

I know where this has come from - the telephone. Due to the fact that I'm a northerner (that's proper north, readers, not Islington) I have a little bit of a northern twang when I speak. Because of this, I always spell my surname when I'm on the phone. "Aitch-ay-dee. FIELD. Hadfield." But, they still got it wrong. That annoys me. They want money from me, but they can't take the time to even spell my name correctly.

Secondly there's the little matter of what the letter is for. It's there to ask me to switch from my current supplier to British Gas. Who are my current suppliers? Yep, you guessed it, it's British Gas.

That's obviously where the misspelling comes in. The system doesn't recognise me as me because it thinks I'm someone different. It may think that Mr. Hadfield lives with Mr. Hudfield. That's what machines do. The problem is, regardless of whether Hadfield and Hudfield were cohabiting, they would have to share the same supplier.

It's customer service on a par with Tesco when everyone should be Timbuk2 and Zappos. Is there a reverse correlation where if you give more money to a brand they treat you worse than if you'd bought some shoes or a bag? Now I'm no genius but that doesn't seem to make sense to me...

When money becomes worthless

When the word 'Zimbabwe' is mentioned we all obviously think about one thing. I'm not going to get into that in this post, but I had to post what one of the lads in the office has just brought in:

That is 500,000,000 Zimbabwe dollars. Five hundred million. It's worth less than 2 pence.

There's a date printed on it saying when it has to be spent by. I'm presuming that's because inflation is so erratic that after that date the value of it could be anything. In fact on asking Mike about it (who's originally from there) he said that prices fluctuate erratically by the day.

There must come a point when in this situation where money simply becomes worthless. This is five hundred million dollars and it's worth 2 pence. Mike said they print a 10 cents note. That's just plain ridiculous. He says people literally carry bags around full of money to buy small things.

It questions the whole logic of money. Wikipedia says:

Money is anything that is generally accepted as payment for goods and services and repayment of debts. The main uses of money are as a medium of exchange, a unit of account, and a store of value.

If the value of something is so erratic then it can't technically be money can it? If the units change constantly then how can you exchange them? It's not the first time this has happened of course, but it's the first time I've sort of thought about it a bit.

Oh, and this is obviously the inflation rate of Zimbabwe:

Melon Balls

I've never much liked melon balls. Melon, however, is amazing.

 
(A melon ball, this morning, from the Engine canteen.)

You see, I think it's to do with ethics.

Sorry to burst the bubble of all the readers out there who think that spheres tessellate, but the plain fact is, spheres don't tessellate. Removing several smaller spheres from one larger sphere leaves lots of little bits of non-spheres. When I'm eating my melon in the morning, this is what goes through my mind. All of those little bits of non-spheres equals a lot of wasted melon. (Whilst it's true that the melon balls here in Engine aren't all perfect spheres (there are some with flattened planes on them - shocka!) I have a point to prove, ok?)

The melon balls here are not balled ('balled'? 'harvested'?) by hand, they come in big tubs and my guess is they're done by machine. Original melon balls were created because creating a sphere from something by use of a hand tool is simple. But now that machines are capable of balling melons, why aren't there machines that are capable of hexagoning melons? That would leave less waste, wouldn't it?

You see we live in a time when overconsumption and underproduction (of food) are going to catch up with us. I don't care too much for the latest fashion trends, and I don't care too much to constantly have the latest gadgets (well, I can't afford them), but what I do care about are my melon balls. By eating my melon balls I'm promoting food waste and giving the outside world a false view of my ethics.

Melon Ball lovers unite! Against balls and for hexagons! Tessellation is a revelation!

The importance of customer service

So what would usually constitute a rant is hopefully going to be turned into something positive in the form of some advice. Advice to whom? Well, Tesco if you must know.

On Monday I'm giving an internal presentation here at Woo Communications towers and part of that is going to be focussed on customer service, how to do it and how not to do it. If you're interested, the good guys are Timbuk2 and Zappos and predictably the bad boys are Tesco. Unfortunately for Tesco I was the consumer that has had a bad experience, so I'm writing about it here.

I was expecting a delivery last night between 8 - 10pm, yet nothing turned up. At 11:30pm I rang the HQ up and was told the driver didn't have his phone so they didn't know why he was late. They refunded me the delivery fee of £4.75 and told me to wait around a bit longer. I waited until about midnight and then went to bed. Nothing turned up.

Over lunch today I rang them to find out what had happened only to find that the order was now cancelled and they would be refunding my money. They have no idea why the driver didn't turn up (although "he may just have over ran on his other jobs and called it a day"), and found out they had no intention of ringing me to tell me that this had happened. If I hadn't have called them I'd still be none the wiser.

So, on top of the fact that I got in for 8 and stayed up until about midnight, there's the obvious fact that I have no food in the cupboards. The service they offer is 'Shopping and groceries delivered directly to your door.' The service I received was 'Wait around at home for no reason, and we won't update you on our failure unless you ring us.' A bad experience that could have turned even worse or been turned around into a positive if the next experience outweighed the first. Tesco made no attempt to turn my negative into a positive.

Brands need to realise that a complaint is a great opportunity to create a positive consumer experience.

Holidays

I was thinking about holidays on the bus this morning. As you all obviously know I had a few days around europe after the marathon, and that was great. On top of that I'm off to Cyprus with Mrs. Hadfield in August and as well as looking forward to that I think I need it.

On the bus this morning I was thinking about the chat I was having with some friends on Friday. The fact that I'm always wired. I'm always thinking of about 50 things at once, and I'm constantly seeing the possibilities in everything. Everything is inspiration.

Whilst I love this, and it's what makes me me, sometimes I just want to be un-wired. I want to have an empty head. I envisage one of those health bars in a computer game when I think about my energy. Mental or physical, they go up and down. At the moment I'm on the orange that is below the yellow. I'm definitely not in the fat green bit at the top and I'm getting closer and closer to the red bit below the line.

This morning on the bus we pulled alongside a tourist coach. This happens all the time but for some reason this morning it got me thinking. How bloody lucky are they! How lucky are they to see London on a day like today when the weather is beautiful, with that holiday frame of mind.

(I know it's tenuous, but any excuse to mention Floyd is good enough for me)

You see, I think holidays are all about that frame of mind. That frame of mind is different for different people, of course, but it's that frame of mind that turns a traffic jam into an exciting sight-seeing tour. It's the same frame of mind that allows me to read a novel instead of a 'planning book', although as Northern Planner says - he can see the benefits of novels. (And, to be honest, as planning is in part about learning from living, everything is planning - but I won't go into that again.)

So I was thinking about this and then, obviously for someone of my age, thinking about Total Recall. For those that haven't seen Total Recall (do those people exist?), there exists a technology where people can have memories implanted into their brains. As well as the importance of this technology in the plot, there's also a great mock-ad in there where you can implant memories of a holiday in the old grey matter and pretend you've been places you haven't.

So when I was on the bus this morning I was thinking of something like this that you could do to make you look through the eyes of a tourist. i.e. To walk around constantly with that holiday frame of mind. Being devil's advocate on my own idea for a minute (which I do all the time) I'd argue that to be a good planner you should be able to switch this on and off when you want. You should be able to perceive the same things in different ways in order to see what everyone has seen and think what no-one has thought. But I can't. The commute is the commute, and that disappoints me. London is London, and I sort of know it. I'm not bored of it - far from it - but I don't see it through the same eyes that I'm going to see Cyprus, and using the same eyes that saw Berlin, Copenhagen and Malmo through.

I guess it's about perception overcoming familiarity. It's about trying to untrain the brain so that familiarity doesn't inhibit original actions and thought. Barring LSD, does anyone have any good ideas? Preferably ones that don't carry the risk of psychosis?

Marketing beyond the experience

I've just been to the Post Office. I've written about the Post Office before over here.

Mostly, they're pretty awful places to go to. The one I've just visited had a brass plaque up from 1990/91 saying it was the best 'West End Post Office.' Is that so important I want to know about it 17/18 years later? And what is it with the 'year/year' thing? Can they only be lauded over a time period that crosses years? Near that was a wall-mounted fan that literally had dust an inch long being blown into my face.

I queued for about 10 minutes in front of the man that I seem to be in front of in every Post Office I've ever been in. You've probably queued in front of him too - he's the one that sighs, huffs and puffs and gets too close to you from behind. He invades your personal space so you feel obliged to move forward in the queue even though there's nowhere to go. Of course I stood still and received several accidental strikes from his envelope on my arms.

There was a chap at one of the windows asking very sensible, very simple questions. Yet he was receiving nothing but equations back. Several times I heard him saying "I don't understand. Do I need to fill it in like this or like this?" Then a minute later: "Sorry but you've not answered my question. Do I fill in this bit or this bit?" I felt genuinely sorry for him. Of course Mr. Perennial Post Office Visitor behind me was sighing at the man for taking up too much time.

I eventually got to a window. When I got there the chap needed to get some envelopes. He then chatted to his friend for a minute or two whilst dealing with me. He asked me to sign something with a pen that didn't exist and I had to borrow a pen from the person at the window next to me. The next bit is the best bit.

After that whole brand experience that had lasted about 12 minutes, he digs out a leaflet and says quickly and with a polished tone: "Sir, you may like to know that we are offering our own competitive saving accounts here at The Post Office." At that point he stopped because he looked at my face and it may not have been the most welcoming it's ever been.

You see there comes a point when traditional marketing will fail every time.

I will not buy into your brand for rational reasons if the negative emotions I have just encountered because of it outweigh them. I have just spent 12 minutes of my life experiencing your brand and I cannot mention one single positive way that you have interacted with me, engaged me or even made me feel welcome. You have people behind the counters less than a metre away from me yet I'm guided to the window by a robot. I'm guided to you by your number and not your name. You're a number and I'm merely an automaton here to carry out a task. If you treat me like that then don't expect to engage with me on a human level at a later time. It won't happen. You've set the rules of engagement so don't treat me like a human being when you want my money.

This is a problem that a lot of marketing companies have. A lot of agencies in general, actually.

We all work in labelled silos. We are told what the brand DNA is and how we need to express this in our own particular silo, but the overarching brand needs to express these values itself. You can use the best tone of voice, the best creative and the best ideas but all of that is meaningless. If that points me toward a brand and I go there it succeeds. But if I go there and ultimately find the whole experience negative, then it's meaningless beyond an account and a profit margin.

People will not buy into a brand if the negativity of the people you experience outweigh the positive aspects of the brand.

Appreciation

I visited Leeds Castle on Sunday with Mrs. Hadfield. Nice weather, nice castle, amazing gardens.

It's nice to visit somewhere like that once in a while. They help to keep you grounded, to make you realise that life as we know it is indeed just life as we know it. We're nothing but a dot on the timeline of history. We walk around these places marvelling at how people used to live like that but some people rarely give a thought to the fact that someone will be doing exactly the same about a flat in Shoreditch with a widescreen and macbook one day...

When leaving I nearly walked past a sundial but sauntered over to look more closely at it. They're the type of things you walk past all the time... they're ubiquitous B&Q fayre, but we shouldn't take them for granted.

I took this at 1:40pm. Or rather I should say that I took this at 1:40pm BST. And as we all know British Summer Time is a modern invention. It was right on the money. Spot on.

I have a friend who paid a lot of money for a watch that makes time. It speeds up. It's more about a piece of jewellery than a functional time piece. I want a personal sundial that I can carry around with me. Mother nature doesn't lie.