And Another Thing / 001

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Wander around the EHT department of John Lewis, and wherever you look you'll see products that  have been improved.  Items better than they were a year ago.  Better than they were six months ago.  Seemingly, with the ubiquitous mobile phone, better then they were while you were having breakfast this morning.  Progress truly is a marvellous thing and it marches in one direction only - forward.  Then walk up the street into a Waitrose branch and across the aisles you will see a raft of things, from toothpaste to toilet rolls, sausages to salad cream that are not only new, but improved too!

 

But I've noticed that there's one exception to this rule.  One thing that used to work but seems to have made a u-turn on the path of technological evolution.

 

The handbrake.

 

My car is ten years old, and nestling between the seats is the familiar, comforting sight of a handbrake.  I stop the car and I can relax, safe in the knowledge that by lifting it up (using the button naturally, not pulling it up on the ratchet - I'm not a savage) my car will remain immobile - immune to the siren call of a sloping road.

 

Yet so many other cars on the road seem to be lacking this most basic of automotive accessories.  They must be, because every time I pull up behind another vehicle in a row of stationary traffic, the driver has to sit there with their foot on the brake, blinding me with lights apparently modelled on Blackpool illuminations.  It's annoying during the day - at night it's infuriating.  And it must be because they don't have a handbrake.  

 

Because the only other explanation is that they're lazy, inconsiderate fools.

 

Surely not.  Right?

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And Another Thing / 002

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In the *mumble mumble* years that I've been in gainful employment, the world of work has changed beyond recognition.  Sometimes for the better, sometimes not.  One development that grates with this self-confessed grouch is the rise of the 'influencer'.  (I refuse to give it the approbation of a capital letter.)

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Now once upon a time, if you wanted to know which widget to buy, you might talk to your friends, or more likely you'd buy a magazine such as 'What Widget?' or 'Widget World'.  These magazines were written by people who were employed to write informed, (largely) unbiased prose based upon a review of the widget in question and their years of experience in the field.  And in return, they would be paid a salary.

 

But with the advent of social media, suddenly everyone could be a journalist.  Teens (and it is largely those in the first flush of youth) will sit in front of a camera phone in their bedroom, pour forth their no-more-informed-than-the-next-teen opinions, and lo!  Thousands worship at the altar of their nonsense.

 

But some began to believe their own publicity and decided that they shouldn't have to pay for the things they review.  No!  Surely the fact that these 'experts' deign to talk about your product or service should be enough to mean they should receive them free and for gratis.  And slowly the backlash began, with high-handed influencers being given short shrift when demanding free holidays and the like in return for their endorsement.

 

And some saw this and wished to distance themselves from the freebie-grabbing hordes, and have started calling themselves by a new name.

 

Muses.

Really.  Muses.

 

You could not make this stuff up.

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And Another Thing / 003

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Have you ever watched the TV series, W1A?  It's a parody (I sincerely hope) of how the BBC works, and follows the hapless Ian Fletcher as he's brought in to be the Head of Values for Auntie Beeb.  In fly-on-the-wall documentary style we watch, cringing, as he deals with Strategists, Brand Consultants, Directors of this, that and the other, Ideation Architects (?) and something called a Viral Concept Designer.  These people inhabit a world so far removed from reality that they genuinely believe that what they're doing is not just of some, but - in their bubble of unshakeable self-belief - huge value.

 

It's funny because it's horrifically close to the truth.  Many of us will, unfortunately, have come across someone like this at some point in our career but on the upside they've usually been from another company that we've paid for their 'expertise'.

 

And it was with no small measure of pride that I thought that at least the Partnership would never fall for that brand of self-important nonsense.  That we retained just enough of the almost-Victorian values that we were founded on.  Our constitution talks of us being 'courteous to each other', and that working conditions should be 'comfortable and businesslike but not luxurious'.  That sounds like a company that values common sense and a down to earth attitude.

 

Then recently I found myself idly browsing the new structures of the 'Future Partnership' - it's on the Intranet - and under 'People' I discovered the following.  We will have a 'Head of People Engagement & Knowledge' who will be responsible for, among other things, 'ensuring the Partnership strategic narrative is accessible at a relevant and meaningful level'.

 

Which, when translated, means 'Communicates clearly'. 

 

What have we become?

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And Another Thing / 004

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The London Underground (or 'the tube' as it's often called) is, as the name suggests, a railway that runs underground.  And being a railway, the people that travel on the service were referred to as passengers.  So far, so unsurprising.  But it appears that in recent years London Transport (sorry, Transport for London) have decided to rebrand their passengers as 'customers'.  "Will customers please move down the carriage?" (didn't they used to be referred to as 'cars'?) and so forth.

 

All of which strikes me as wholly unnecessary, and an invidious act which seeks to erase social history and rebrand it in shiny twenty-first century packaging.

 

Which - as most things seem to do these days - really annoys me.

 

So my hackles were raised recently when I saw some internal communications that referred to Waitrose customers  as 'guests'.  Now according to most reputable dictionaries, a customer is 'a person who buys goods or services from a shop or business' whereas a guest is 'a person who is invited to visit someone's home or attend a particular social occasion'.

 

Now don't get me wrong.  I like my local Waitrose branch.  I feel welcome.  I am on first name terms with a number of the Partners that work there.  But when I go, I go to buy groceries, not to walk through the door, kick off my shoes, put my feet up on one of the fixtures and read the paper while a Partner runs off to get me a drink and some nibbles.

 

If I wanted to be a guest I'd go to a hotel, or turn up at one of my friend's houses and get them to run off and get me a drink and some nibbles.

 

I just want to be a customer.  

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And Another Thing / 005

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While the Partnership continues to evolve, it's good to know that some strands of our DNA stretch back unbroken (strained on occasion, but to my knowledge, unbroken) to our very origins.  And one of those strands is the letters page of the Gazette.  Thanks to the ability to write in anonymously, or under a pseudonym (other than the dark days of the 'Forfar era'), Partners have vented, expounded, commented and suggested on countless topics, not always sensible.  The very first writer to use a pseudonym - Private Beerless in April 1918 - stated that should he (or she) be in charge, then the company would, among other things 'Provide Beer ad lib'.

 

Quite what that would have done for productivity I'm not sure.

 

Thanks to the Heritage Centre's sterling work in digitising the back catalogue of the Gazette I occasionally while away a lunchtime looking at letters from days gone by, and I marvel at the style (and length!) of some of them, and of the chains of correspondence that could stretch over weeks.

Heating issues, stock problems, the quality of the scripts in the annual Partnership Revue, all would be (and were) debated at length.

 

So it saddens me when I look at the letters pages of today.  The wit - and it must be said, wisdom - of letter writers past seems to have disappeared, replaced by an almost endless stream of complaints couched in ever more discourteous terms.  This is almost certainly fuelled by the increasing numbers of replies which thank the author for writing in, but then spend 300 words dodging the point being made.

 

The written word is a marvellous thing, as is the opportunity to write in on any topic and be guaranteed (t&c's apply) to be published.

 

Don't waste them.

 

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And Another Thing / 006

 

If you've been watching the news lately, or have read the Gazette.  Or the papers.  Or maybe even just looked out of the window, then you'll be aware that retail is in a bad way.  On a scale of 1 to 10,  it's at about -263.  Fortunately a) we are better placed than many of our competitors and b) our leaders have a plan!

 

And it's this plan that interests me.  The idea, as I understand it, is to save this particular retailer by not really being a retailer any more.  Turns out that there isn't much money in the whole 'Buy products and then them sell them for a bit more money.' thing.  So we're going to be a service provider.  (As well.  We're not going to stop selling things entirely.)

 

Basically customers want a guiding hand through life and - because when it comes to trust, we're the high street equivalent of Sir David Attenborough (i.e. somewhere above your granny in the trustworthy stakes) - we believe that customers will place their faith in us to help them with any number of services.  From finding them a plumber to fitting their kitchen.  Home insurance to pet insurance, improving their diet to improving their finances.  All these things we could potentially help with.  At a better markup than selling sofas.

 

But there's a problem,  Service takes time.  I was in John Lewis recently, and there were two tricky customers at the till, meaning the queue was getting longer, and longer and...

 

Naturally the Partners on the tills went out of their way to assist, which was great for those customers - not so much for us in the queue.   

 

You can't cut your way to a profit.  Great service takes great Partners.  And lots of them.