The Role of Civility in Social Media

Recently I posted a movie trailer video to a favorite Facebook group page and, after several weeks, was delighted to see other fans had “liked” the posting. I posted a comment expressing delight that they did. Therefore I was startled to receive a bristling response from the page administrators who had mistaken my meaning for sarcasm.

false pretenses? Are we sensing you're annoyed with the lack of response to your post? If thats the reason being five percent of fans reguarly respond to posts to begin with and secondly we doubt it's due to them being more interested his other attributes and forgetting his acting abilities..If it's something they have seen or heard about before there is lest interest compared to new things popping up about [him]. Kind regards, [page] administrators.

Aside from the confusing syntax, what struck me was how much they had misunderstood my comment. Also stunning was

• How quickly the worst was assumed of my meaning, and their assumptions of my motives applied instead;

• How bristling their response was—to a “constituent”; and

• How much exhausting drama came with this (this is, after all, a Facebook page about a movie actor, not a debate about cancer research funding).

But I think this is how people do communicate these days, especially on social media—quick to anger, quick to call names, quick to misunderstand and kick down the wrong impression versus verifying for the correct one.

I can only reiterate what Linda Bishop and I discussed in our webinar last year:

• If you’re unsure about someone’s intent, give the benefit of the doubt until you can verify it;

• “Flaming” responses ultimately reflect more damagingly on you. Your remarks cannot be retracted although they can be used out of context; and

• Remember that human communications is a flawed process, so going ballistic over imagined insults is the human equivalent of shouting down someone an office meeting—without having taken the time to hear them out.

Finally: people always remember how they were treated. Adding stuff like “kind regards” when you’ve basically acted like a mindless bully does not change that. If your role is to administer, your job is to keep constituents engaged, and practicing civility is a stepping-stone to ensuring that.

Try a Little Seltzer for the Road Ahead

Recently I posted this on Facebook: “Today my local grocery had customers cracking up in the aisles when an employee on the PA system said: Welcome Publix shoppers to the best Friday deals ever (ever ever ever)...our deli just pulled rotisserie chicken from the oven and we got homemade bisque (bisque bisque)...As always, thank you for being with us today, where shopping is a pleasure (pleasure pleasure)....Gotta love a store with its own PA echo.”

To me that's great customer service. It was such a small, silly thing, but the smiles lingered on everyone's face, the employees were clapping and laughing, and they just proved their tagline.

In the same week, one of my clients said something very profound: “It’s not just that we should keep doing things better, but we need to do the same things differently. What’s more, we need to try and do different things.”

So what does that mean? I’ve put together a general list:

• Give your customers, your constituents, a different experience of you. To say you want to “re-engage” them means that some organizations will do what they’ve always done, only with greater frequency and intensity, but is that necessarily the best strategy? One client plans to go beyond sending thank-you form letters to their donors and instead start inviting them to pick-your-brain meals with national luminaries closely tied to their organization.

• Don’t just invest in transparency but aim for constant, porous dialog. New programming frequently fails because the targeted audience was never asked in the first place if such programs were even relevant, much less appealing or convenient. The best way to escape formulaic tactics is to ask your customer what they need most.

• Don’t forget to delight. One of the classic episodes of 1970s’ “The Mary Tyler Moore Show” was when the TV station crew struggled to maintain gravitas at the funeral of a clown whose credo was “A little song, a little dance, a little seltzer down your pants.”

How We Learn

           One of the most startling experiences I had as a trainer was the day a white supremacist attended one of my classes. In fact, it was the one about cross-cultural customer care, and dollars to doughnuts he wasn’t there by choice. Chances are good his boss he required him to be there.

            Nor did he come in wearing a badge that said, “White supremacist / misogynist,” but by his remarks and behaviors, it was a safe bet to assume he was made to be that way.

I had a feeling he’d linger after class, and sure enough he did, because by then it was obvious even to him that his attitudes were offensive to the others. No one sought him out for conversation; when he spoke you could hear the eyes rolling in the room.

            He was intrigued that my classroom rules included “Speak as an ally” and “There’s no such thing as a dumb question.”

He began our conversation by saying, “I know I come off as a conservative right wing nut, but my dad was much worst.”

His personal story was sad to me—made sadder by the conviction he felt his dad did what any good father should do: require his son learn to dominate women and children, learn to shoot guns because all masculine men should enjoy killing, and learn to assert his own value by denigrating others who appear different. Any challenge or disagreement was met with physical blows and derision by the old man.

He chuckled indulgently and derisively about gays and lesbians, shook his head over the failings of other races, and prided himself on having his wife “under control.” (He praised the Chinese, probably because I was the only other person in the room with him).

After 9/11, knowing himself to be too old, he called up his old Marine sargeant and begged to re-up: “Please let me kill some Muslims.”

When that was not possible, he cheerfully took a job with a local penitentiary as a guard, where he felt repurposed in protecting the rest of us against some of the “human faeces” under his watchful eye.

Finally there was a pause and he seemed to be asking, “So what do you think of that?”

I’d seen white supremacists mouthing off in TV documentaries but, set apart and alone, free to speak as an individual, I found him more pitiful than repellent.

“I know the jail must be chaotic,” I said, “but you must feel your life is so boring and closed off.”

He was silent so I got the feeling he was considering it.

“It must take a great deal of effort to maintain all the things you believe in,” I said, “and it must get in the way of any learning which for me is where all the fun is in life.”

“Aw yeah, lifelong learning, I got all that,” he waved his hand.

“That includes learning from other people.”

I broached the idea that each person is a walking collection of stories, and that learning should be like lighting small fires of imagination, versus filling a human vessel. If you think you can learn that way, no one is beneath or above you.

Not sure if he bought any of it.

We live in a period of impatience, incivility, and strife-ridden civil discourse, further enabled by social media and e-mail. Depending on who you’re with, if you don’t ape the attitudes of the prescribed Democrat or Republican, you risk social disapproval. I’m not sure when it became more important to “win” by converting or kicking down the next guy, than by simply taking the time to hear them out.

Under these conditions, learning becomes a risky venture because you have to first navigate the minefield of social ouster. Small wonder I’ve found most people speak most freely when with like-minded others, but we learn more in settings were differences abound. It’s just that no one’s making it safe to be in disagreement.

Our most gifted teachers use humor, laughter, and game-playing to engage children in learning something risky and new. In order to learn, we have to make ourselves vulnerable and demonstrate how much we don’t know, so of course our questions will seem dumb. By leavening the lump, these teachers are saying, “Who cares? Glad you asked.” Mistakes are made more freely, enabling more learning.

All I know is, it would not have increased my own humanity if I’d insulted that white supremacist for being what he is, at a point when he was asking to learn.

Customer Service or Bust

Years before the Great Recession, I was alarmed to see a change in behaviors: as if a strange malaise had overtaken the working world, most organizations were becoming indifferent and even punitive toward their customers. Incivility marked the way work was handled between internal customers.

During economic lean times, it’s easy to take an “every man for himself” attitude but a couple generations of consumers were altered by the recession. My prediction? Recession-weary consumers would become exacting and more demanding about how they’re treated by their suppliers. This has come to pass.

“Relationship” and customer loyalty will be more important than ever. Your granddaddy’s “the customer is always right” has evolved—thanks to the Internet, social media, and m-commerce options—into questions like: How consistent is our branding? Do we have the right interaction mix so customers can easily find and stay engaged with us? Will our call center folks respond knowledgeably when queried by a customer who’s just pulled info off our Web site? 

Ask not how to make the customer more accountable to you; ask how you can be more accountable to your customer. How easily can your employees see a profile of each customer they’re talking with? An associate told me he stayed with his mobility provider because even after he’d called to explain why payment would be late, they were understanding and never failed to thank him for 15 years of patronage. How well have we been using analytics to understand our customers’ values and purchasing behaviors?

Do you have a strategy for becoming a preferred supplier? Just getting enough work to make revenue goals is not enough. Customers are shopping for relationship now more than ever, and it takes a whole different set of ideas and behaviors to garner preferred supplier status than to merely “make nice” with one’s customers. How good’s our ability to give our customers an intelligent, customized response?

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

Customer John, a business owner, is trying to lower his premiums by changing from Plan A to Plan B, but he’s opted to stay with the same insurance company. Here’s how a call center professional can either delight him or drown him in regret about his decision to stay faithful.

By refusing to “get” the real point of the customer’s call. John calls up, somewhat stressed that his change of policy application won’t get in on time.

Ugly: “Sir, I get it that your mail was held up by a snowstorm, but we can’t move the deadline on account of that. We can’t do anything about acts of God.”

Bad: [defensive] “Want to talk to my supervisor?”

Good: “I’m sorry you had some trouble with that, sir. Let me go over your account and get this done today so you won’t have to worry about it any more. We appreciate you’re keeping your policy with us.”

By focusing so much on policy readings, you actually demonstrate to the customer that you’re inflexible and somewhat shady.

Ugly: “Before we take your new application, sir, did anyone tell you that if you change your mind later, you can’t go back to Plan A? No, sir, it’s being eliminated. Gone.”

Bad: [loud eye rolling] “My supervisor can explain why it’s set up like that.”

Good: “Before we finalize this new plan, sir, I need to point out that as of April 1, we’ll be eliminating Plan A, the plan you just left. If you later find you’re unhappy with Plan B, just give us a call back and we’ll arrange other options for you to consider. Some of the new plans are pretty popular and inexpensive.”

Resolving the customer’s business is a big relief — and a chance to sell more of what the customer doesn’t want, need, or would even consider!

            Ugly: [perfunctory] “Is there anything else we can do for you?”

            Bad: [uninspired drone] “Have I told you about our Plan B Extra Plus?”

            Good: “Before we wrap up, sir, have we taken care of everything you needed to get done today? Have we answered your questions? Well, if you think of any later, please call us back. We’ve got some wonderful enhancements like the Plan B Extra Plus which is pretty popular with printing companies like yours. You may not have time to consider it today but the details are on our Web site, which also lists other printing companies in your region who’ve endorsed the Extra Plus. And once again, thank you for keeping your policy with us. Have a great day.”

The End of This Story isn’t Really a Nail-Biter

This week I had a large document that needed to be printed out, then copied. I want to stress this was not a complex document—no fancy graphics, no color photos— just straight black type on white letter paper.

So I sailed forth, plucky as the Pinta, the Niña, and the Santa María, believing a woman with a crowded schedule could get three sets of copies done inexpensively, in 20 minutes, without having to first notify her next of kin.

Things looked promising too: there was a manager and a management trainee on the floor, thoughtfully taking questions from new incoming like myself.

One of my questions meant the difference between a $20 versus a $100 copy run, and the manager, being management, said, “I don’t know. Patty! Can you help this lady, please?”

His employee Patty was already busy fielding the three other customers he’d helped over there, and—like a fish anxious to stay live—kept moving through a variety of tasks as she took my original. I posed my questions but unless that odd twitching under her eyes was a response, I wasn’t sure she had heard me, and meanwhile she was on the other side of the room, reaching for the wrong paper….

Armed with a spiffy padfolio and lacking only a cub-hero cape, the management trainee stepped up to ask if help was needed. I whispered, “Do you think Patty heard me?” The management trainee couldn’t be sure. But then training kicked in and she decided to ask Patty if she’d heard me. This took the next 5-10 minutes.

Finally I stuck two fingers into my mouth and whistled like Ben Cartwright ordering everyone back to the Ponderosa.

“We heard you,” said Patty, a little indignant at my need for coddling.

My document was copied in the nick of time, but then I needed a bold marker to address an envelope. Another employee found one for me, hovering near to ensure I didn’t try to make off with a Sharpie that predated the Clinton administration. Then, exit stage left, only to encounter the company truck blocking in my car, so their delivery guy could unload boxes. While waiting, new incoming—in the form of a little old lady asking the manager if he had change for a fiver. (What do you think?)