Dialogue: When endurance fails there's still the write way to service

Horror stories of people's experiences when telephoning service providers are perennial favourites. They typically focus on telecommunications companies, energy suppliers, Government departments and banks.

Woeful tales of how long it took to get through to a real person, and how many minutes of elevator music or pre-recorded sales pitches were involved, are part of our culture. Organisations are cursed for their inefficiencies.

We ask how can they be so stupid as to have a customer service line that offers little in the way of service. And, to add insult to injury, any service that does come is usually only after the caller has endured 15 minutes of Glen Campbell's greatest hits.

But who is really the stupid party? We know the service is rubbish. We know we can't get through without delays. We know that once we've got through to someone, we'll be accidentally disconnected and have to start again. And we know that if we do manage to explain our story to a person, they are likely to pass us on to someone else and we'll have to repeat ourselves.

Deep down, too, we know the request probably won't be acted upon and soon we will be re-enacting the whole sorry procedure armed with nothing more than a whining, "This is the second time I've asked."

Tsk, tsk, tsk. The only truly efficient and stress-free way for customers to deal with large organisations is to put their requests in writing.

"Oh, but what about the extra time it will take?" some may ask. That's a misconception. Writing a snappy 70-word letter with a simple request, then sealing and stamping the envelope takes about three minutes - much shorter than being the next person in the queue for 23 minutes.

And, furthermore, there are economies of scale that are absent with phone calls. Take the man who had to contact three service providers to inform them of an address change. That's one simple request which needs to go to three places.

Instead of making three separate phone calls, he could have written one letter, sent it (by post or e-mail) to three places and the job would have been over in about five stress-free minutes.

Another beauty of putting requests in writing is that you have a lot more clout should the request not be executed. Instead of ringing again, asking for superiors and venting your spleen, you can calmly send a copy of the original letter to a more senior person, noting that it has not been acted upon and insisting it is attended to immediately.

It's much more civilised and dignified than screaming down a phone line. And much more effective, too. You actually have proof of the initial communication.

I will only book airline tickets in writing, since years ago I once (after booking by phone) received tickets the day before travel for incorrect flights. My impotent "it's not what I requested" carried no weight. Because I had no written instruction to fall back on, it was simply their word against mine.

It won't happen again, though. Now I put all my requests for tickets in writing to the airline.

The first time I telephoned to get the mailing address, an operator asked what I wanted it for. I said: "So I can make some bookings." She replied: "That's not how we work." Well, that's too bad because it's how I work thanks to their past inefficiencies.

Once, reluctantly and in the absence of a postal address, I rang a telephone company to make a simple request. The operator said: "I've put the instructions in but the computer has not quite accepted it. Can you hang on a moment?"

Foolishly I hung on, fuming as I realised that I was waiting for them to sort out an administrative hiccup that was not my problem.

The operator came back with a "if you hold on a few more minutes, it should be sorted." I said: "I have given you my request. Please just action it. There's no need for me to hang on."

"Oh, okay," she said, probably reeling at the novel concept that she could do something without a customer dangling hopefully at the other end of the phone.

Telephones provide the illusion that we're somehow getting instant gratification, and many people seem attracted to this false notion. Maybe it gives them a sense of power at the prospect that they will fleetingly have someone's undivided attention.

Of course, some things are urgent and necessitate using the telephone, but there is a lot to be said for putting most routine details in writing.

And if we're all frustrated with these inappropriately named helplines, why are we still using them? We have options.

* Shelley Bridgeman is an Auckland writer.