Are We Losing Customer Surprise?

I have a confession. When I was 10 years old, I did a very naughty thing on Easter. I secretly watched my parents hide the eggs. As my cousins and siblings rushed into our backyard on the hunt, I calmly went straight to all their hiding spots! I "found" a lot more eggs! But they had a lot more fun. They squealed and grinned when they found an Easter egg; I was far less enthused.

Customer service has for many years had its share of "squeals and grins." It was not that long ago a mechanic repaired something he spotted as defective when my car was on the rack and fixed it without a fee. A baker’s dozen was a concept everyone knew and often experienced. Today, such generous, unexpected behavior is rare. So, what has made customer surprise so rare. and getting more rare?

Some of its absence can be blamed on rising, sometimes unreasonable, customer expectations. After a great experience with Amazon, Disney, or Jerry's Bait Shop, our criterion for an A in service gets raised for every other service provider we encounter. Why does my order from Macy’s take so long when Amazon gets it to me in a day, or less? Taxi rides are not the same after the convenience of Uber or Lyft. But one subtle perpetrator of surprise theft is an organization's bias for applying production thinking to customer experience.

Making Stuff Versus Making Memories

When you buy a product, you receive an object; when you buy a service, you get an outcome and an experience surrounding that outcome. Unlike products, a service cannot be inventoried but is created new each time—therefore, no economies of scale for mass production and no stockpiling for a quick response to unexpected demand. The manufacturer controls the quality of product-making and the processes that yield efficiency, not the buyer. Customers don't show up at the factory to help. The reverse is true for service—the buyer judges the quality of memory-making. And if the customer perceives it is late, it does not matter what the records report.

Since the product-buyer is not a participant in product making, the manufacturer's focus is largely on the efficiency of internal processes. However, with service, the buyer participates in creating the service experience with the service provider. Consequently, the focus must be on the quality of the relationship with its co-creator—the customer. And in the end, the receiver of a service owns nothing tangible—thus, the service value depends solely on a satisfactory outcome plus a positively memorable experience.

However, there is an even deeper dimension to the product-service difference. The core property of a product is form; the core property of a service is emotion. Just as uniformity is a virtue of a product, uniqueness is a virtue of service. Six sigma black belts taught the world to eliminate variance in processes so manufacturing could yield greater productivity and higher revenue. While honoring efficiency and frugalness, the service paradigm recognizes the criticality of the human dimension. It thus focuses on empowered employees able to adjust, adapt, and custom-fit service experiences to match customers' unique requirements.

The Risk of Commoditizing a Brand

Howard Schultz, founder and CEO of Starbucks, wrote employees about his concern over "the watering down of the Starbucks experience" in favor of "the commoditization of our brand." It is a classic example of product thinking being ineffectively used in a service world.

"When we went to automatic espresso machines," Schultz wrote, "It solved a major problem in terms of speed of service and efficiency. At the same time, we overlooked the fact that we would remove much of the romance and theatre that was in play with the use of the La Marzocca machines." "…The height of the machines…blocked the visual sight line the customer previously had to watch the drink being made and for the intimate experience with the barista."

So, what happens when you apply production thinking and variance-eliminating to the delivery of a service experience—especially since the very nature of surprise is variance? The most obvious examples are phone scripts. Remember, "Thank you for shopping at J-Mart, next?" or "Would you like fries with that?" Some organizations require a precise script rather than rely on a consistent pattern—always warmly greet, put a smile in your voice, and sincerely thank each customer. But, unless the contact center operator is a world-class thespian, the customer is likely to experience robotics instead of authenticity. A memory made as plain vanilla is essentially no memory at all.

The Fallacy of Affinity Programs

The application of affinity programs is another way the management of processes now trumps the leadership of frontline ambassadors. For example, there was a time when a front desk clerk or gate attendant made decisions on the upgrade of a room or plane seat. It created an emotional connection between employee and customer along with a brand-loving memory. "Thank you, Delta Airlines, for taking care of me when I needed it most." Now, the computer, with its programmed rule-based fairness, makes the upgrade decision. Frequent flyers watch the monitor in the airport to determine if they received an upgrade—there is no connection with a person.

Now here is the missed opportunity part. Should a frequent flyer get an upgrade, they do not reconnect with a gate agent for a new boarding pass. Instead, the person boards with first-class passengers, and the computer generates a seat assignment. Consequently, the formerly surprised guest or passenger is today nonplused by this dull procedurally-driven event. Unfortunately, the hotel or airline's quest for customer advocacy is wholly lost. There is no emotional connection—just an almost predictable outcome.

Discouraging Innovation Robs Employee Loyalty

While researching for a Forbes post on luxury service, I learned the power of expecting innovation. It was illustrated in a quote from Gucci CEO Marco Bizzarri. "If you have a culture of respect," he wrote, "creativity flows. You create this energy, and then people have more desire to take risks." It came early in my research, and I noticed in interviews that luxury brand frontline employees had high morale and made comments about the freedom to go the extra mile in thrilling a luxury-seeking customer. "I love it here because I get to problem-solve and be imaginative in what I can do for my clients," said a salesperson at a successful Rolls-Royce dealership.

The opposite is the frontline customer service employee told to "follow the procedures and do as you are told" when every fiber of their body sees a loyalty-building approach they are not allowed to attempt. "A little part of me dies every day," a server at a diner told me recently after reporting that she could not deviate from the menu, even though all the ingredients for my unique request were readily available and easily adjustable.

Today's customers expect experiences to be sparkly and glittery with a cherry on top. Meeting the challenge of rising expectations requires rethinking the role of those employees who are face-to-face, ear-to-ear, and click-to-click with customers. When service people are asked to pleasantly surprise more customers, they feel less like worker bees and more like fireflies. It means leaders trust frontline employees to create, not just execute. The more they are resourced and freed to be generous and ingenious, the more they bring their high esteem to the service provider-customer co-creation resulting in customers who feel enchanted and eager to tell others.

As the adage goes, the best way to build long term customer loyalty—the kind that turns customers into ardent advocates—is to treat every customer like today is their birthday.