There is only one valid definition of a business purpose: to create a customer,” the business writer Peter Drucker once said. One of the great things about capitalism is its concern with pleasing the customer, but in recent years this concern has gotten out of hand. Nowadays almost every transaction triggers a customer survey. The words I have come to dread are: “We would appreciate your feedback.”
Here are two examples of feedback mania. I spent two minutes getting a state map from AAA, but this transaction triggered a survey that would require at least ten minutes to fill out. I was out of checks, so I ordered them online, but when the checks arrived there was also a postcard asking me ten questions about my ordering experience.
In both cases the transaction took less time than it would take to fill out the survey about the transaction.
The other day I went to the supermarket to buy a dozen items. The checkout person circled a number on my receipt—telling me that if I entered this number on the supermarket’s website and answered a few questions I could win $500 in groceries. I didn’t pursue it.
A week ago I got the following request for feedback from my pension fund. “As part of our long-standing commitment to providing participants with the best possible service, —— would like to get feedback from you to help us make improvements in the service we provide to you.” How would I know what suggestions to give?
The weirdest request for feedback was from a bank I had called to pay a credit card bill. I was talking to an automated system, so why would they want feedback? Did they want to know what I thought of their robot? I didn’t respond, but I could have said “Your robot is hard of hearing,” because the robot twice said: “I’m sorry, I didn’t understand you.”
Sometimes providing feedback triggers a second request for feedback. I answered a survey about a gas station where I took my car for its Virginia state inspection. Filling out this survey led to a request for feedback about my opinion of the car I owned. I didn’t respond.
I usually delete requests for feedback that are based on transactions that took only a few minutes, but when a business does extensive work for me I respond to the request for feedback. A contractor whom I hired through Home Depot did a good job renovating our kitchen. He asked me to give him the highest ratings because otherwise Home Depot would drop him. So of course I did.
Often feedback questions are difficult to answer. If I visit a doctor, I always get a question: Was the receptionist courteous and attentive to your needs? I have no idea what my needs are. As far as courtesy goes, I grew up in New York so if the receptionist doesn’t shout at me I think she is courteous. Sometimes a survey asks about the cleanliness of the office. Are you kidding? When I enter an office I don’t wipe my hands on a piece of furniture to see if it’s dusty.
A few months ago I went to my doctor for a checkup—now called a wellness exam. My doctor belongs to a large not-for-profit medical organization that puts a premium on efficiency, so my exam takes only a half-hour, which includes a blood test. Many people dislike this new brand of computer-driven medicine, but I like it. No long stays in the waiting room, and I get my blood test results online in 24 hours. But then they sent me a request for feedback. I like my doctor and I worried that if I didn’t respond someone might conclude I wasn’t fully satisfied with him. So I gave him the highest rating. It didn’t end there. A few weeks later I got another survey—I think it was from Medicare—asking me what I thought of my “health provider.”
I once responded to a feedback request from the dealership that services my car by saying that I was satisfied with everything except their request for feedback. “If I have a problem I’ll get back to you,” I wrote. Despite my plea for no more requests for feedback, they continue to send them.
I dislike giving feedback, but the knowledge that there will be feedback may motivate employees to be attentive and polite. In the 1970s I went to Communist Hungary several times—my wife was born there—and the store clerks were often sullen and unhelpful, sometimes even nasty. They knew they couldn’t be fired.
So let a thousand feedback requests bloom—just don’t expect me to answer most of them.
