Showing posts with label Gleneagles. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Gleneagles. Show all posts

Tuesday, 1 September 2015

TICKLING FEET OF CLAY

Peter Lederer used to be Chairman of Gleneagles and was the most impressive thinker about customer service I’ve known. He described the circle of doom in which however hard you try to make amends to a discontented customer you manage to make it worse. You know the sort of thing …the waiter carrying the complimentary glass of champagne to Mrs Grumble trips up and soaks her.


I think it’s what used to be call the feminine argument…”and another thing” - because it seems true that when one thing goes wrong the victim becomes a Victor Meldrew list-maker of errors - “typical, just typical”.

My feet of clay award goes to the John Lewis Partnership. The organisation is one I admire and Charlie Mayfield is the most impressive CEO I know. I once made an observation to him about something Waitrose had done which struck me as wrong. He replied carefully, courteously and signed it. Brilliant stuff.



Recently Waitrose, my Waitrose has been unable to put a foot right. I got rotten, stinking asparagus twice and was a sent a rotten response by Customer Service Bracknell (“Thanks for letting us know that one of our products was not of the standard you expected”- no the standard of reeking rottenness was well below par!) I bought some tea and most of the bags were split (Twining’s fault but I blamed Waitrose); Mr Sheen no longer stocked (black mark); they never bother to replenish the cups of green charity vouchers at check-out (meanies - don’t care about charity); a chicken on sale on August 29th with a sell-by-date of August 23rd. I told them to remove it from sale and they looked at me as though I were a troublemaker (which is just what I’d become). And the guy at checkout was sullen and unhelpful.

John Lewis Oxford Street fared just as badly. I queued 20 minutes for coffee because the 4th floor café was understaffed); the queues were worse and impenetrably slowed down by the jolly conversation of the staff in Greeting Cards and, finally, an American shopper in household appliances who was puce in the face screeched her outraged complaints with ripe language for being ignored.


These unrelated incidents do not constitute a case for the prosecution. The organisation is great and does most of what it does brilliantly.  But I wonder if I’m getting a preview of incipient problems.


Lucy Kellaway wrote about the customer revolution recently:

At Amazon, the customer wins — and the employee does not. The company may not have chosen the most morally acceptable trade-off. But it has laid bare this fact of economic life: when some win, others lose.

At John Lewis the employees are partners and have a lot of power. I wonder if the smell of complacency and a slowdown in the mission to improve is what I’m detecting. I wonder if others are sharing my missing of delight in the place.

But unless this welling rage goes I’m going to have to shop elsewhere.

Wednesday, 1 October 2014

WHY I LOVE EUROPE

The remarkable thing about the Ryder Cup at Gleneagles was the teamwork Europe showed in this most ‘teamly’ of golf formats, the foursomes, which we won 7-1. I shall no doubt reflect more and deeper on how it is four Englishmen and representatives from eight other European countries came together as one cohesive synchronised unit. How it was that even suspiciously UKIP looking spectators were howling “Europe! EEUURRope!!!” How for one glorious weekend we all felt as one.


And yet we are increasingly Eurosceptic with 51% saying they’d vote to exit and only 40% voting to stay in in a recent MORI poll.

I suppose if we exit we’ll no longer be part of the Ryder Cup which will be very good news for the USA. Just as it was for us when an always-beaten Britain in golf joined forces with Europe and the miracle started because of that alliance. Do we detect a possible lesson here?

But that would be less sad than the loss of what feels like an increasingly natural link. I actually feel more European than at any time in my life. Do I hate Brussels bureaucracy? Of course. Do I admire the Euro economy? Not particularly, no. But do I think we have a huge and necessary leadership role in the Europe of the future - of course I do. Without the UK I really do suspect Europe may not make it.

And I’m influenced by UK business leaders - a hard headed bunch - 80%+ of whom say we should stay with Europe. The CBI spell out the numbers saying that at around £70 billion a year EU membership is worth nearly 5% of Britain’s GDP.

The desire to leave is less well founded by far than the Scottish “yes” votes’ argument was.
Back to golf and that astonishing cultural harmony we saw. It was more than golf. The US team were statistically on average slightly stronger but the star spangled banner didn’t have the clout or the passion of that star-circled device for the EU.

I felt as though I was watching the possibility of “Europeness” as German embraced Spaniard and Dane embraced Scot. Unlike the World Cup or the European Song Contest Britain seemed happy to be in close company with its neighbours.

The mood in Britain is pretty well anti-everything at present. We have become a nation of “Doom Dabblers”. Given this I am not hopeful of a referendum on Europe.

I am (I recognise this) irrepressibly and even irritatingly optimistic.
But there are two guiding principles here though not just a bucket of warm Bonheur.

The world needs more collaboration. Being small may be beautiful but things are too complex to do them solo.

Learning to be in and loving being in a team needs strength of will and empathy. Opting out is always the easier choice.

Little Britain could be great in a united Europe which it helped lead. Or we could be proud, independent, little and ignored.

Our choice.

Monday, 7 February 2011

THEY DIDN'T ACTUALLY KNOW WHAT GOOD WAS...

John Neill Group CEO of Unipart described this as the main failing of British Management in the post-war years. Peter Lederer, Chairman of Gleneagles, said this was why he left Britain in the 1970s. No good.

But now we’ve got adept at knowing what good is and as adept at hiding our lights under bushels.

Britain is world class at restaurants, retailing, the arts, building brands, hospitality and creative industries (and just for fun I’m including investment banking in this category.)

World class. The Royal Opera House. Glyndebourne.
World class. The Tate. Royal Academy. National Gallery
World class. WPP. M&C Saatchi. Sedley Place. Barclays
World class. BBC. Pinewood. Hat Trick. Talkback Thames
World class. Gleneagles. Hotel du Vin. Browns
World class. Selfridges. John Lewis. Fortnum&Mason. Foyles
World class. Fat Duck. Ivy. Galvins. Wolseley
World class. Simon Rattle. Kate Adey. Jamie Oliver
World class. Canary Wharf. O2 Dome. St. Pancras. London Eye
World class. Football. Rugby. Cricket. Golf. Cycling. Sailing

Yet we persist in doing three crazy things.
i)     selling our brands to anyone, anywhere with a bit of cash
ii)    outsourcing what we should do ourselves to high inflation economies
iii)    failing to improve what we do and make every single day…because good is never good enough

We have the choice of becoming third world class – Primark, Poundland, Charity Shops - or working our balls off to be best.

I was watching Jeremy King at the Wolseley the other day, chatting up his staff and walking the floor that’s what leads to world class. That’s why sensible CEOs should live in their reception feeling and seeing the face of their business. Why Sir John Hegarty, founder of ad. agency BBH said you could never take your eye of the shop for a second.

Stop for a moment just trying to be big or get rich. Start trying to be better. Start to change the game (that’s why I call Kate Adey world class – she changed the way we saw women broadcasters forever.)

World class takes perspiration, focus, trial and error and a withering disregard for anything that takes your eye off great customer service.

It takes pride, ambition and a willingness to be measured against the best, smartest and most competitive.

Welcome to New Britain….and not a minute too soon.