g r o t t o 1 1

Peeve Farm
Breeding peeves for show, not just to keep as pets
Brian Tiemann
Silicon Valley-based purveyor of a confusing mixture of Apple punditry and political bile.

btman at grotto11 dot com

Read These Too:

InstaPundit
Steven Den Beste
James Lileks
Little Green Footballs
As the Apple Turns
Entropicana
Cold Fury
Capitalist Lion
Red Letter Day
Eric S. Raymond
Tal G in Jerusalem
Aziz Poonawalla
Corsair the Rational Pirate
.clue
Ravishing Light
Rosenblog
Cartago Delenda Est




Book Plugs:



Buy 'em and I get
money. I think.
BSD Mall


Amazon Honor System Click Here to Pay Learn More



 6/19/2006 -  6/22/2006
 6/12/2006 -  6/18/2006
  6/5/2006 -  6/11/2006
 5/29/2006 -   6/4/2006
 5/22/2006 -  5/28/2006
 5/15/2006 -  5/21/2006
  5/8/2006 -  5/14/2006
  5/1/2006 -   5/7/2006
 4/24/2006 -  4/30/2006
 4/17/2006 -  4/23/2006
 4/10/2006 -  4/16/2006
  4/3/2006 -   4/9/2006
 3/27/2006 -   4/2/2006
 3/20/2006 -  3/26/2006
 3/13/2006 -  3/19/2006
  3/6/2006 -  3/12/2006
 2/27/2006 -   3/5/2006
 2/20/2006 -  2/26/2006
 2/13/2006 -  2/19/2006
  2/6/2006 -  2/12/2006
 1/30/2006 -   2/5/2006
 1/23/2006 -  1/29/2006
 1/16/2006 -  1/22/2006
  1/9/2006 -  1/15/2006
  1/2/2006 -   1/8/2006
12/26/2005 -   1/1/2005
12/19/2005 - 12/25/2005
12/12/2005 - 12/18/2005
 12/5/2005 - 12/11/2005
11/28/2005 -  12/4/2005
11/21/2005 - 11/27/2005
11/14/2005 - 11/20/2005
 11/7/2005 - 11/13/2005
10/31/2005 -  11/6/2005
10/24/2005 - 10/30/2005
10/17/2005 - 10/23/2005
10/10/2005 - 10/16/2005
 10/3/2005 -  10/9/2005
 9/26/2005 -  10/2/2005
 9/19/2005 -  9/25/2005
 9/12/2005 -  9/18/2005
  9/5/2005 -  9/11/2005
 8/29/2005 -   9/4/2005
 8/22/2005 -  8/28/2005
 8/15/2005 -  8/21/2005
  8/8/2005 -  8/14/2005
  8/1/2005 -   8/7/2005
 7/25/2005 -  7/31/2005
 7/18/2005 -  7/24/2005
 7/11/2005 -  7/17/2005
  7/4/2005 -  7/10/2005
 6/27/2005 -   7/3/2005
 6/20/2005 -  6/26/2005
 6/13/2005 -  6/19/2005
  6/6/2005 -  6/12/2005
 5/30/2005 -   6/5/2005
 5/23/2005 -  5/29/2005
 5/16/2005 -  5/22/2005
  5/9/2005 -  5/15/2005
  5/2/2005 -   5/8/2005
 4/25/2005 -   5/1/2005
 4/18/2005 -  4/24/2005
 4/11/2005 -  4/17/2005
  4/4/2005 -  4/10/2005
 3/28/2005 -   4/3/2005
 3/21/2005 -  3/27/2005
 3/14/2005 -  3/20/2005
  3/7/2005 -  3/13/2005
 2/28/2005 -   3/6/2005
 2/21/2005 -  2/27/2005
 2/14/2005 -  2/20/2005
  2/7/2005 -  2/13/2005
 1/31/2005 -   2/6/2005
 1/24/2005 -  1/30/2005
 1/17/2005 -  1/23/2005
 1/10/2005 -  1/16/2005
  1/3/2005 -   1/9/2005
12/27/2004 -   1/2/2004
12/20/2004 - 12/26/2004
12/13/2004 - 12/19/2004
 12/6/2004 - 12/12/2004
11/29/2004 -  12/5/2004
11/22/2004 - 11/28/2004
11/15/2004 - 11/21/2004
 11/8/2004 - 11/14/2004
 11/1/2004 -  11/7/2004
10/25/2004 - 10/31/2004
10/18/2004 - 10/24/2004
10/11/2004 - 10/17/2004
 10/4/2004 - 10/10/2004
 9/27/2004 -  10/3/2004
 9/20/2004 -  9/26/2004
 9/13/2004 -  9/19/2004
  9/6/2004 -  9/12/2004
 8/30/2004 -   9/5/2004
 8/23/2004 -  8/29/2004
 8/16/2004 -  8/22/2004
  8/9/2004 -  8/15/2004
  8/2/2004 -   8/8/2004
 7/26/2004 -   8/1/2004
 7/19/2004 -  7/25/2004
 7/12/2004 -  7/18/2004
  7/5/2004 -  7/11/2004
 6/28/2004 -   7/4/2004
 6/21/2004 -  6/27/2004
 6/14/2004 -  6/20/2004
  6/7/2004 -  6/13/2004
 5/31/2004 -   6/6/2004
 5/24/2004 -  5/30/2004
 5/17/2004 -  5/23/2004
 5/10/2004 -  5/16/2004
  5/3/2004 -   5/9/2004
 4/26/2004 -   5/2/2004
 4/19/2004 -  4/25/2004
 4/12/2004 -  4/18/2004
  4/5/2004 -  4/11/2004
 3/29/2004 -   4/4/2004
 3/22/2004 -  3/28/2004
 3/15/2004 -  3/21/2004
  3/8/2004 -  3/14/2004
  3/1/2004 -   3/7/2004
 2/23/2004 -  2/29/2004
 2/16/2004 -  2/22/2004
  2/9/2004 -  2/15/2004
  2/2/2004 -   2/8/2004
 1/26/2004 -   2/1/2004
 1/19/2004 -  1/25/2004
 1/12/2004 -  1/18/2004
  1/5/2004 -  1/11/2004
12/29/2003 -   1/4/2004
12/22/2003 - 12/28/2003
12/15/2003 - 12/21/2003
 12/8/2003 - 12/14/2003
 12/1/2003 -  12/7/2003
11/24/2003 - 11/30/2003
11/17/2003 - 11/23/2003
11/10/2003 - 11/16/2003
 11/3/2003 -  11/9/2003
10/27/2003 -  11/2/2003
10/20/2003 - 10/26/2003
10/13/2003 - 10/19/2003
 10/6/2003 - 10/12/2003
 9/29/2003 -  10/5/2003
 9/22/2003 -  9/28/2003
 9/15/2003 -  9/21/2003
  9/8/2003 -  9/14/2003
  9/1/2003 -   9/7/2003
 8/25/2003 -  8/31/2003
 8/18/2003 -  8/24/2003
 8/11/2003 -  8/17/2003
  8/4/2003 -  8/10/2003
 7/28/2003 -   8/3/2003
 7/21/2003 -  7/27/2003
 7/14/2003 -  7/20/2003
  7/7/2003 -  7/13/2003
 6/30/2003 -   7/6/2003
 6/23/2003 -  6/29/2003
 6/16/2003 -  6/22/2003
  6/9/2003 -  6/15/2003
  6/2/2003 -   6/8/2003
 5/26/2003 -   6/1/2003
 5/19/2003 -  5/25/2003
 5/12/2003 -  5/18/2003
  5/5/2003 -  5/11/2003
 4/28/2003 -   5/4/2003
 4/21/2003 -  4/27/2003
 4/14/2003 -  4/20/2003
  4/7/2003 -  4/13/2003
 3/31/2003 -   4/6/2003
 3/24/2003 -  3/30/2003
 3/17/2003 -  3/23/2003
 3/10/2003 -  3/16/2003
  3/3/2003 -   3/9/2003
 2/24/2003 -   3/2/2003
 2/17/2003 -  2/23/2003
 2/10/2003 -  2/16/2003
  2/3/2003 -   2/9/2003
 1/27/2003 -   2/2/2003
 1/20/2003 -  1/26/2003
 1/13/2003 -  1/19/2003
  1/6/2003 -  1/12/2003
12/30/2002 -   1/5/2003
12/23/2002 - 12/29/2002
12/16/2002 - 12/22/2002
 12/9/2002 - 12/15/2002
 12/2/2002 -  12/8/2002
11/25/2002 -  12/1/2002
11/18/2002 - 11/24/2002
11/11/2002 - 11/17/2002
 11/4/2002 - 11/10/2002
10/28/2002 -  11/3/2002
10/21/2002 - 10/27/2002
10/14/2002 - 10/20/2002
 10/7/2002 - 10/13/2002
 9/30/2002 -  10/6/2002
 9/23/2002 -  9/29/2002
 9/16/2002 -  9/22/2002
  9/9/2002 -  9/15/2002
  9/2/2002 -   9/8/2002
 8/26/2002 -   9/1/2002
 8/19/2002 -  8/25/2002
 8/12/2002 -  8/18/2002
  8/5/2002 -  8/11/2002
 7/29/2002 -   8/4/2002
 7/22/2002 -  7/28/2002
 7/15/2002 -  7/21/2002
  7/8/2002 -  7/14/2002
  7/1/2002 -   7/7/2002
 6/24/2002 -  6/30/2002
 6/17/2002 -  6/23/2002
 6/10/2002 -  6/16/2002
  6/3/2002 -   6/9/2002
 5/27/2002 -   6/2/2002
 5/20/2002 -  5/26/2002
 5/13/2002 -  5/19/2002
  5/6/2002 -  5/12/2002
 4/29/2002 -   5/5/2002
 4/22/2002 -  4/28/2002
 4/15/2002 -  4/21/2002
  4/8/2002 -  4/14/2002
  4/1/2002 -   4/7/2002
 3/25/2002 -  3/31/2002
 3/18/2002 -  3/24/2002
 3/11/2002 -  3/17/2002
  3/4/2002 -  3/10/2002
 2/25/2002 -   3/3/2002
 2/18/2002 -  2/24/2002
 2/11/2002 -  2/17/2002
  2/4/2002 -  2/10/2002
 1/28/2002 -   2/3/2002
 1/21/2002 -  1/27/2002
 1/14/2002 -  1/20/2002
  1/7/2002 -  1/13/2002
12/31/2001 -   1/6/2002
12/24/2001 - 12/30/2001
12/17/2001 - 12/23/2001
Thursday, June 22, 2006
13:16 - Would you like to take a survey?

(top) link
It seems that the latest trend in the automotive sales industry is overbearing obsequiousness. If that makes any sense.

These links are to Lileks and his experience with his Honda dealership, but it's all so close to what I've been through recently at the Audi dealership as to verge on the creepy. Here's my tale:

When I bought the A3, the salesman showed me all the electronic geegaws and demonstrated their operation, including the neato two-paned sunroof, which has a manually operated perforated sunshade that rolls up into the crosspiece between the front and back sunroof panes. We found, during this process, that the plastic latch that keeps the shade closed was broken.

The salesman got a stricken look on his face. "Tell you what," he said. "Take the car home today, and we'll get the part ordered for you and repaired right away. Just... just please don't tell anyone. And—" (here he drew close, conspiratorially) "—when you get the survey form, please, please don't mention this problem. There'll be a bunch of questions, Extremely Satistfied, Very Satisfied and so on—just say Extremely Satisfied on all of them. If you do that I'll get you a discount on your iPod adapter, I'll fill up your car with gas, whatever you want—you see some accessories you like, we'll get you set up. Just please don't tell anybody."

I didn't know what he was talking about, but he sure seemed sincere. So I took the car home and put up with the broken sunshade latch for a month while they back-ordered the part, which apparently was so perennially problematic that Audi was having to redesign it and send out replacements to dealerships all over the place.

But when they'd handed me the keys, they had given me a stern-faced warning, as though I'd just bought a Monkey's Paw: Behold, thou shalt soon receive a call from the dealership asking you to rate our performance. Take thee this survey form, which hath the questions inscribed upon it. Seest thou the levels of satisfaction: "Extremely Satisfied, Very Satisfied, Satisfied," and so on? O customer, we implore you: grant us an Extremely Satisfied on all the questions and we will forever be in your great debt.

Back in my cubicle at work, I filled out the form, uncertainly, not really sure what the hell I was doing, or who I was supposed to turn it in to. The questions were about the salesman's performance: How satisfied are you with the salesperson's knowledge about the car? Extremely Satisfied, Very Satisfied, Satisfied, Not Very Satisfied, Not Satisfied At All? How satisfied are you with the physical condition of the car at time of delivery? Extremely Satisfied, Very Satisfied, Satisfied, Not Very Satisfied, Not Satisfied At All? This harping on the "satisfaction" scale was irritating to say the least, and its weighting seemed really overbearing—am I really extremely satisfied with the dealership's ability to schedule my test drive, or does it qualify more as a very?—but the ominous portents laid upon me at the dealership seemed very sincere, so I circled the Extremely Satisfied answers on all of them.

Sure enough, the dealership soon called me. They asked me if I had time to take a survey about my purchasing experience. I agreed, and soon we were off and running with the questions on my sheet. Oddly, not only did the interviewer ask every question with exactly the same wording as it was printed on my sheet, she also recited the "satisfaction" scale, in its entirety, after every single question: "How satisfied are you with the level of expertise of your sales associate? Extremely Satisfied, Very Satisfied, Satisfied, Not Very Satisfied, Not Satisfied At All?" And she wouldn't let me interrupt or abbreviate the litany. Soon I realized that the sheet I'd filled out wasn't any kind of customer form to be turned in—it was a photocopy of the exact form the surveyor was reading from. It was a cheat sheet. To help me properly answer "Extremely Satisfied" in all cases, just on the off chance that I grew flustered during the questioning and couldn't think what my answer should be.

"Ah hah," I said impishly to myself. "I'll fix them." And when they asked the question about the car's physical condition upon delivery, thinking about the broken sunshade latch, I summoned my courage and said "Very Satisfied".

The change in tone was immediate and electric. The interviewer's voice suddenly grew soft and urgent. "Oh," she said. "Well, you see, here's the thing. Where it says Extremely Satisfied, Very Satisfied, and so on, that's really a point system. We start out with five points for each question, and if you say Very Satisfied, we lose a point, and then Audi downgrades our dealership and we lose all kinds of benefits. What was the problem? Maybe we can fix it. Just... just please don't make us mark down a Very Satisfied..."

At this point I'm starting to feel like a pawn, but nowhere near as much a pawn as the poor interviewer, whose salary no doubt relies on my willingness to hyperventilate and turn cartwheels over my satisfaction level with the dealership's flexibility and nearness to my workplace. So I complete the survey, filling out the rest of the questions with dutiful answers of "Extremely Satisfied".

A month or so later came the service appointment where the latch was fixed. At its conclusion, the service advisor took me aside: "Keep an eye out," he said. "You'll probably be getting a survey call from the dealership, and then another one from Audi of America. Now, it's really important—"

"Extremely Satisfied," I said, nodding. "I think I know where this is going." He looked embarrassed, and chuckled nervously. But his eyes told me he thanked me for my indulgence.

And sure enough, two days later came the call from the dealership: "How would you rate the ability of the dealership to schedule the service appointment? Extremely Satisfied, Very Satisfied, Satisfied, Not Very Satisfied, Not Satisfied At All? ...How would you describe the quality of the work performed on your vehicle? Extremely Satisfied, Very Satisfied, Satisfied, Not Very Satisfied, Not Satisfied At All?" I answered each question through gritted teeth: "Extremely!" as rapidly as possible, as early as possible, trying to telegraph that I was aware of the "satisfaction" scale and that I understood the stakes of saying anything less than "Extremely Satisfied" in response to any question. Above all I hoped that the poor interviewer would just drop the tedious time-consuming satisfaction scale after every question and let me say "Extremely" so we could get on with our lives; but it wasn't to be: she doggedly pressed on for the fifteen minutes or so that the call took. At the end, she told me that this was just the survey call for the dealership, and I could still expect another one from Audi of America. Swell, I thought. That sure makes me Extremely Satisfied.

About three days later came the call from Audi of America. Exactly the same survey. Same questions. And same dogged unwillingness to skip over the "satisfaction scale", even when it was abundantly clear that I could retain an understanding of it in my mind in the ten seconds between questions. She also rejected my suggestion that we just use a numerical 1-to-5 scale (like Honda apparently does, according to Lileks' experience), which would save so much time. "Audi requires that we say the entire thing," she told me.

But we finished the survey, and all was well. That was about two weeks ago.

And then, yesterday, Audi of America called me. Again. To give me the exact same survey. Again.

Same questions. Same monotonous response scale. Same tensely muttered Extremely! after every question. And at the end of the survey, she asked me: "Is there anything else you would like to share with Audi of America to help improve our customer service?"

"Too many surveys," I said.

These guys—and apparently Honda too, and presumably every other car company—are so obsessively determined to ensure their customers have a good service experience that they're ensuring that I have a bad service experience. Seriously: I'm considering taking the car in again, to have a rattle in the back seat area looked at, but I fear to do so lest they pelt me with surveys again.

I'm sure they'll stop if I ask them to; I'm sure I'm not required to complete these surveys every time. But they're making me seriously consider not taking my car in to them for service purely because I don't want to face their customer service's overbearing obsequiousness. I suppose it could be worse—I'm sure I'd prefer this situation to one where I fear the service experience because the employees are rude and incompetent—but this way, it seems they've deluged themselves with so much data that it's flooded out any potential usefulness, and now serves only to drive away otherwise well-disposed customers. Not only do I feel like it's now a hassle to get something quickly fixed—an ordeal that will last me three weeks of waiting in trepidation by the phone—but I'm also on the hook to express my unblemished loyalty and exhilaration with their service, even when their guys leave a greasy thumbprint on my car's interior cloth A-pillar: they would rather have me come in and ply me with gifts from the catalog of Audi-logo golf shirts and keychains while they scrub the car from top to bottom, than for me to file a Very Satisfied on my car's condition when I got it back from the service bay. And they would rather tip their hand and explain the rules of the game to the customer, solving problems off the books, than follow the point system the company has so carefully set up to ensure proper evaluations of their various dealerships.

I'm glad the service industry is taking such notice of me and striving so hard to serve me. But I'd much rather they just did the job right rather than compound the existing problems with new ones.

UPDATE: Kenny B. writes:

Yes, every single car company does this now. It started in the late 80s and early 90s. The Big 3 started looking for ways to improve customer satisfaction (outside of making cars that weren't as crappy as the Dodge Reliant K) and they all settled on the CSI (customer satisfaction index). It started as a way to rate a whole dealership and those that were consistent under performers lost their franchise.

I worked at a Cadillac/Olds/Isuzu dealership at the time that this was becoming important to the dealers. We bent over backwards to keep the customer happy, but we didn't know which customers would get the survey. Then there was a change after I left the industry. The auto manufacturers started sending out the survey to every single customer of both the sales and repair sides. Dealerships quickly tied sales and service representative pay to the survey results and the rest you know about.

As for the dealership calling you, it was a dry run. They do not actually keep the survey results, they just want to find out what your answer is before you get the real survey from the manufacturer. GM often mails their surveys to the customer, but apparently Audi wants to be sure that they get your answer, even if you have to spit through your clenched teeth.

Kenny

BTW, how was experience with this e-mail?
Extremely satisfied, very satisfied, satisfied, not very satisfied, or not satisfied at all?

:)
Satisfied. Put that in your pipe and smoke it. Har.

UPDATE: I don't know, either.


Back to Top


© Brian Tiemann