Monday, July 25, 2011

HOW MANY BAGS WOULD YOU LIKE?


As I was about to complete payment at the self-checkout of my local supermarket, a screen appeared asking 'how many bags would you like?' - with a new piece of information, they would now cost 5c each! I tapped NONE, completed payment, grabbed my reusable grocery bags and was on my way.

As I loaded up my car, it dawned on me, just how recently my behaviour towards cloth grocery bags had changed.

Now I admit to not being a leading-edge environmental activist, nor am I at the other end of the scale, tossing discarded burger wrappers, lit cigarette butts and whatever else I'm done with, out the window of my moving vehicle. Like most people, I exist somewhere in-between; hopefully a lot closer to the environmentalist than the Vile Vehicular Vermin (Litterbug is too cute a moniker). So, I consider my behavioural transition to be pretty consistent with the masses.

At first, I was certainly conscious of the effort being put forth by supermarkets and environmental groups to change my behaviour. I picked up a free promotional bag or two, but on the rare occasions that I did use them, I invariably left them in my house, or when shopping, I often forgot them in the car and, well, it was raining, so I'd use them next time!

For a time, I began to rationalize my behaviour: plastic grocery bags were the perfect size to line the garbage bin in my kitchen. So the bags were being put to good use!

But a few things changed my behaviour, and it's worth recognizing what they were, because we don't always change as a result of logical or even rational reasons. Nor do we always do what's in our own best interest.

I'm almost ashamed to admit that the first trigger was a pun; and while I normally despise puns, this was clever enough to not only catch my attention, but modify my behaviour. I'm sure you've seen it, a black cloth bag, with the message "This Bag Is Green." Clever. I bought one. It was more about what this bag said about me, than saving carbon emissions, but the die was cast.

The next wave was a further lesson in branding. Once a month, or so, I cross the border into Washington State (it's only a few minutes from my home, in British Columbia) and shop at an absolutely wonderful supermarket chain called Trader Joe's. If you shop there, you know I need not say more, but if you haven't had the pleasure of visiting a TJ's, let me just say that Trader Joe's is not only a remarkable retail story with exceptional quality and variety, but to many of its customers, it's a lifestyle statement. Over a few visits, I picked up several reusable Trader Joe's branded grocery bags. When I use them in my local supermarket, I'm amazed at how many comments I receive, regarding my vanity bags.

I am reminded of living in Toronto back in 2001. There were two diametrically opposed supermarkets on the same block. One was a No Frills grocery store, where everything was about low prices. At the other end of the block was Pusateri's, a market so high-end, they offered valet parking....seriously!

Now, I will admit that Pusateri's had an extraordinary prepared food section and some truly outstanding products, but the fact is, a lot of the clientele who arrived in Lexus' and Mercedes, picked up their deli items at Pusateri's, then snuck down the street, to get their tissue paper and canned goods at the No-Name store. Know how you could tell? At the risk of appearing cynical, they were easy to spot, as they often brought their own plastic bags to help in the recycling effort. Curiously, they were almost always Pusateri's plastic bags seen leaving the No Frills supermarket.

Truth is, as progressive as we might like to believe we are, each of us has to reach our own tipping point to assimilate new behaviour. That point is often mitigated by subtle, yet powerful, social factors.

Marketing Guru/Psychologist Robert Cialdini touched on a similar scenario in a series of experiments involving hotel room towels. His research revealed that 'helping the environment,' was a moderately effective motivator in getting hotel guests to reuse towels. But when the message was more personalized to focus on the responsibility of the individual guest, as compared to other guests who had stayed in the same room, towel reuse increased substantially.

We don't always do what's right, for the right reasons. Take quitting smoking. I smoked for more years than I care to admit, but when I did quit, more than 20 years ago, my motivation was not the logical rationale of improved health. No, that was too non-specific and frankly, not enough to counter the powerful addiction. I needed a much more tangible and powerful motivator to trick myself past the effects of nicotine withdrawal. So, I calculated my annual expenditure on cigarettes and went shopping for something extravagant that I could buy with a year's smoking budget. Whenever I got the urge, I thought about the reward. Oh, and for the really bad cravings, I followed a friend's advise and imagined myself licking a dirty ashtray!

The longer we live, the more ingrained our behaviour becomes. It's perfectly natural. So, when we decide to change something about ourselves, whether it's improving eating habits, spending more time with family, or smiling more often at strangers, remember that what may seem like the most efficient path to success may not be the most effective.

Perhaps more importantly is timing. I didn't actually quit smoking until the 5th or 6th attempt. We change when the motivation is right, whatever that may be. I am reminded of the Zen proverb "When the student is ready, the teacher will appear."

***While writing this article, I was quite aware of the ongoing argument as to the true environmental benefit of recycled grocery bags VS plastic, in terms of actual cost, carbon footprint, etc. I chose to avoid the topic, as it is contentious (to say the least), and I thought my outing Pusateri's customers in Toronto, was enough potential controversy for one day.

Monday, July 4, 2011

Pay It Forward


In some ways, writing a blog reminds me of my early days in radio, hosting a show. You take it as something of a leap of faith that anyone is actually paying attention. So, when I do receive feedback, I'm legitimately touched that what I've written or said, impacted another person enough that they are sufficiently motivated to respond.

Last month, I received two very different pieces of feedback that were too coincidentally connected, to ignore.

First, was a comment from a complete stranger about my "How I Became A Customer For Life" blog, where I told the story of growing up in Montreal and becoming a St. Louis Cardinals fan. The email ended with a question:

"So, have you managed to follow your own advice when it comes to customer service?"

Well, not always, but I certainly aspire to exceed expectations.

Let me tell you about an example of extraordinary customer service, that I was recently reminded of:

It was a nasty Vancouver evening in the fall of 2004. Not the kind of light rain that's marginally annoying (and I can assure you that no one who's actually from the West Coast refers to it as liquid sunshine) , but a pounding, driving downpour that keeps even the die-hards indoors.

A group of four of us were having dinner at a restaurant, before attending a Sarah MacLachlan concert at GM Place. Dinner was running a little late, so I asked our server if he could call us a cab, as our cheque arrived, anticipating that taxis would be in high demand.

That was an understatement. After paying the bill, we waited 20 minutes for a cab. Our server made two more calls to check the status of our ride and was given a rather non-specific commitment.

I was a little anxious to get to the venue, as I had made a commitment to see the opening act. The Server, whom I 'd never met before that evening, was aware of this, and after his final attempt to call and secure us a cab, he borrowed a car from the manager and insisted on driving us to the concert venue. We gratefully accepted his unprompted offer.

During the brief drive to the arena, we chatted about favourite concerts, and our server-turned driver, revealed that he was "the world's biggest Tragically Hip fan," and had seen the band perform, dozens of times. As he pulled up to our gate entrance, I handed him a sum of cash that I felt was commensurate with his extraordinary service. He smiled and refused. Wow!

Think about that for a second. It's certainly no secret that those make a living as servers in the restaurant business, subsist on gratuities. In fact, this is the most fundamental model of customer service: Quality of service = % of Tip!

But he had refused my effort to compensate him for his time and effort. He seemed genuinely happy to have been able to help us out, and to get us to the venue in time to see the opening performer. Now that's extraordinary customer service!

The next day, as I retold the story to more than a few people (that's what you do when you experience superb customer service), I realized that I could do something special for this guy. So I called in a favour.

Several weeks later, it arrived. A Tragically Hip poster, autographed by every member of the band, with one added name hand-written below the signatures with the word "Thanks!" That added name belonged to the "World's Biggest Tragically Hip Fan," our server, who had driven us to the concert . I had this one-of-a-kind piece framed, found out when our server was working next, and delivered it to the restaurant. He was surprised and seemed genuinely ecstatic. I admit to feeling pretty good myself!

I'd actually forgotten about this event of nearly 8 years ago. But, as I mentioned off the top, I received two different pieces of connected feedback this week. Here's the second.

I was Facebooked by an acquaintance from my days in the broadcast industry. She told me that during a recent dinner conversation with friends in Edmonton, the waiter overheard them talking about the radio business and asked if they knew 'Eric Samuels.' The waiter went on to tell his version of the story of that night in Vancouver, ending with the autographed Tragically Hip poster. Her Facebook note ended with the following (which I offer with her kind permission):

"I'm certainly we're not the first to hear that story. You really made him feel special."

Now I admit that I don't do this kind of thing very often. Circumstances demanded that I do something, and opportunity allowed me to reciprocate in the manner in which I did. And here we are, 8 years later, and it's still being talked about.

Extraordinary effort makes for great story-telling, and great stories are told and retold, over and over again. Plus, it's not bad having the reputation of being an excellent tipper. Whenever I dine out, I seem to get excellent service!