Where Have All The Human Beings Gone?
A few weeks back, I bought an upgrade card for my computer. Being inexpert at such things, I soon found myself out of my depth and placed a call to the company’s technical support line. After going through the menu of options offered by the machine that answered the phone, I was connected to a recorded voice that said I would be on hold for five or 10 minutes before someone could help me.
I was actually on hold for about an hour, but my ordeal finally ended.
When the machine hung up on me.
Undaunted, I called the company back - did I mention that this was long-distance? - and spent another hour listening to the same three elevator tunes repeated endlessly. Fed up, I hung up, only to repeat the sequence over the next few days without getting even a smidgen of technical support from the technical support line.
Which brings us to the question “du jour”: Where have all the human beings gone?
You know, the people who used to answer your questions, explain your options … service with a smile and all that? What happened to them?
It’s not just the computer company that makes me wonder. It’s the utility company, the bank, the subscription department, the department store, the government, the telephone operator and, yes, the automated phone system at my very own office.
It wasn’t always like this. Remember when you took your questions or concerns to a human person who gave you a human response? Now, you listen to a menu and input information.
We live in Impersonal America, an acquaintance said the other day as he swiped his money card to buy gas at the pump. Not so long ago, he mused, filling the tank meant dealing with another human being. Maybe shooting the breeze for a moment or two. Now, we just pump and run.
Granted, the new way is quicker and easier.
Less painful sometimes, too. Once, years ago, I needed to get an extension on a utility bill. I’m sitting there on hold, trying to frame a hard-luck tale for the clerk, when suddenly a machine picks up the phone. It instructs me to key in some information and quickly approves my request. Never even asks for my tale of woe.
It seemed a good deal to me at the time. Only now do I find myself questioning whether the trade-off was worth it. Only now that humanity has been exchanged for cost-effectiveness and service swapped for speed.
Only now that we live in Impersonal America.
And that’s a term that seems especially apropos because I don’t think this happened just because we were looking for greater efficiency. No, I think we also wanted greater uniformity. We wanted - and have made - our encounters sterile and personality-free.
Know how bad it is? A cashier, an older woman who works in a cafeteria in Washington, got in hot water awhile back for her habit of calling customers “honey” and “sweetie.”
We wanted it to be like that. Wanted correctness over personality. Wanted one-size-fits-all customer service free from the messiness - bad moods, biases, idiosyncrasies, small talk - that characterizes human interaction.
But I find that I miss the mess.
Indeed, when I went through back channels and finally got a live, human person to answer my computer question, I was more pumped than an OPEC oil well. The guy even got snippy with me, and it was like hearing a favorite song for the first time in years.
It made me wonder: Are we really better off now than we were when human beings - snippy and otherwise - answered the phones and provided the service? OK, so maybe real live people aren’t cost-effective.
But I can tell you this: I wound up taking that upgrade card back to the store. Asked the clerk to recommend one from a company that could actually put a living, breathing human being on the line in a reasonable amount of time. The card he showed me costs about $100 more. And you know something?
It’s worth it.
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