When you make it hard for your customers to respond

This morning, I had an issue with my LinkedIn account. I was trying to reply to a message, and I kept getting “Send failed.” That was all I got — there were no error codes, additional information, or symptoms. I poked around LinkedIn’s Help section, and came across this page for dealing with messaging problems. I didn’t go as far as to clear my cache, but I did log out and back in, and I tried it in a different browser, all to no avail. In the middle of contacting LinkedIn’s support, the problem mysteriously “fixed itself.” If you work in tech, I don’t have to tell you how frustrating it is for an issue to mysteriously “fix itself.”

However, the issue I had, in and of itself, is not why I’m writing this article. When I heard back from LinkedIn, I got a message saying “go to this page” (the one I’d already found) and use that to troubleshoot. In response, it displayed the interface you see above. As you can see, they only gave me two options: “yes, I’m good,” and “no, I still need help.” The problem was, my response was, neither. No, I didn’t need help at that point, but I also wasn’t completely good, either. I wanted to inform them what had happened in case they wanted to investigate it further. But they did not give me that option. Between those two options, I clicked “yes, I’m good,” which immediately closed the case; I had absolutely no recourse to add more to it. I looked around for ways to send feedback, but I did not find any good way to do it. Replying to the email resulted in a response saying “you responded to an unmonitored mailbox.” The more I looked for a feedback mechanism, the more frustrated I got. The issue quickly went from “I’m reporting a technical issue” to “you guys need to fix your UI/UX.”

I’ve written before about how critical it is to get feedback, and how design can be a big deal. As much as I like LinkedIn as a business networking tool, I felt that LinkedIn fell short on both of these facets.

Let me start with the UX/UI design. I strongly felt that only those two options, especially if answering “yes” automatically closed the case, was a very poor design. As many people will tell you, the answer often isn’t simply “yes” or “no.” (One of the long-standing jokes among DBAs is that the standard DBA answer is, “it depends.”) And even after I clicked one of those buttons (in this case, I clicked “yes”), the interface was confusing. I was brought to a page that said “click to enter more information” (or something like that). The problem was, click where? None of the “links” allowed me to enter anything else, and there was no clearly logical eye path for me to follow. I had no idea what I was supposed to do once I got to that page. I kept clicking different links, trying to leave feedback. By the time I found a link, I wasn’t even sure that I was replying to my original query. I had no idea to what — or even where — I was responding.

I’ve said time and again that if you’re a technical writer — or a UX/UI developer — you don’t want to make your reader or end user work. Reading is work. Making your end user work is a sign of poor design.

Second, this experience made me question just how seriously LinkedIn takes feedback. True, nobody wants to hear bad feedback. I know I sure don’t. But if you want to improve, you need to know what it is you need to improve. How am I supposed to improve something when I don’t know what it is that I’m doing wrong? Not including a channel for feedback — or making it difficult to do so, as I allude to above — is doing a disservice to your organization and to your clients.

Good communication between you and your client is important. Not only does it help your client, it helps you improve your organization, and it builds trust between you and your customers. Making it difficult for your customers to communicate alienates them — and ends up hurting your business in the long run.

Who has the final say on a service issue?

I recently registered for Homecoming Weekend at the old alma mater. For me, it’s a reunion year ending in zero, so this year is of particular interest to me. (No, I won’t say which one it is. All I’ll say is, I’m getting old!)

While going through my own information on the Homecoming web site, I noticed a minor error. It wasn’t particularly big, and the error isn’t important in and of itself, but the university wouldn’t let me change it online; I needed to email them to get it fixed.

In response, I received a Jira service request notification indicating that it was in the queue. I knew right away that they were using Jira; we also use it in our office, and the email format and appearance is unmistakable.

The next email I got from them, a couple of hours later, is the graphic you see above, and as someone who’s worked in technology his entire professional career, I found it to be particularly irksome. When I received the message, my immediate thought was, “excuse me, but I am the customer. Who are you to say that my issue is resolved and completed?!?”

Sure enough, when I checked my information again, it still hadn’t been updated. I even tried clearing my cache and refreshing the browser. No dice. I wrote back, saying that I didn’t see the change and asking how long I should wait before I saw it. For all I knew, the web server had to refresh before any data changes appeared, so I gave it the benefit of the doubt. I received an automated message saying the case had been reopened (I was responding to Jira, after all). I didn’t get another response until this morning, when once again, it was marked “Resolved” and “Complete.” When I checked my information again, the change was there. I did not receive any other communications or acknowledgements, other than the automated Jira responses.

In their defense, to me, a department called “Constituent Records” sounds more like a data end-user role, rather than a full-blown IT or DBA role (I could be mistaken), so maybe they weren’t versed in concepts such as tech support, support levels, incident management, or support procedures. Nevertheless, I still found this to be annoying on a couple of levels.

First, it is up to the customer, not the handler, to determine whether or not an issue is resolved. The word “customer” can have a number of connotations*; in an internal organization, the “customer” could be a departmental manager or even your co-worker sitting next to you. To me, the “customer” is the person who initiated the request in the first place. An issue is not resolved until the customer is satisfied with it. It is not up to the handler to determine whether or not an issue is resolved. The handler does not have that right.

(*Side thought: the customer and handler can be one and the same. If I come across an issue that I’m working to resolve, I am both the customer and the handler. Nevertheless, the issue isn’t resolved until I, the customer, is satisfied that I, the handler, took care of it to my — the customer’s — satisfaction.)

Second, as a technical communicator, I was annoyed by the complete lack of communication from the person handling the request. The only communications I received were either comments contained within the Jira ticket or automated responses from Jira itself. Not once did I receive any message asking for any feedback or asking to see if I could see the change. The only messages I received — before I responded saying I didn’t see the change — was an automated Jira response acknowledging that they had received my request, and a second message that it had been resolved and closed. Boom. End of story.

I’m writing this article as a lesson for anyone working in a support role. First, feedback is important. You need to know that you’re handling the issue correctly. “How am I doing?” is a legitimate question to ask. Second, it is not up to you, the handler, to determine whether or not the issue is resolved. That right belongs only to the client — the customer who initiated the request, and whose issue you’re handling.