"Your Call is Very Important to Us": The Corporate Mantra of Indifference
Because nothing says "efficiency" like being trapped in a phone menu purgatory.
Photo by Arlington Research on Unsplash
Have you ever felt trapped in a telephone menu tree, frustrated and lost? Why must we endure the digital labyrinth that seems to test our patience and sanity when we call big businesses today? When we make a call to inquire about a product or service or have an issue with something nowadays, we are greeted with a cheery AI voice. Then, the madness begins.
The menu tree is a concept that originated in corporate efficiency workshops to simplify operations, cut down on expenses, and, in theory, enhance customer service by directing calls to the correct department. It has now become the standard gateway between customers and human interaction. This labyrinthine phone system was designed to assist businesses in handling their calls by directing them to the appropriate department.
In theory, it's a win-win: businesses save on labor costs, and customers get their issues resolved faster. In practice, however, it's more like entering a gladiatorial arena, where your weapons are patience and a touch-tone keypad.
"Welcome! Our menu options have NOT changed. If you know what you're doing and why you're here, press 1. If you're hopelessly optimistic about reaching a human today, press 2. For all other inquiries, please stay on the line, and we'll continue to pretend like we might actually connect you to someone helpful."
And let's not forget the delightful moments of absurdity that come with these automated systems. There's the classic "I'm sorry, I didn't get that," followed by a repeat of the entire menu, just in case you want to memorize it for your next party trick. Or the ever-helpful "Your call is important to us," which is corporate speak for "We're going to put you on hold until you question all your life choices."
On one hand, there's a certain efficiency in being routed directly to the department you need. On the other, there's the all-too-familiar urge to scream "REPRESENTATIVE!!!" into the phone in hopes of bypassing the digital gatekeeper and speaking to an actual human being.
This brings us to the heart of the matter: the longing for human connection. Technology has made it easier than ever to connect with one another, but why does it feel like we're being pushed further apart by the very businesses we're trying to support? The irony is as thick as the instruction manual for navigating these menu trees.
When we find ourselves navigating through complex menu trees, pressing numbers with increasing frustration, it's important to remember that someone else out there is going through the same experience. You should know that you are not alone in this struggle. I often tell the human being I eventually speak to, after yelling the word 'representative' into the phone 8,476 times, to pass on my frustration to their supervisor. These menu trees are the worst. I hope that with enough pushback, there will be no menu options, only another human at the other end of the line.
Have you also experienced the frustration of navigating through endless menu options while trying to reach customer service? Do you have any stories about your experiences, whether they were tales of success or failure? Have you discovered clever strategies for bypassing the automated menu and connecting with a live customer service representative?
Clayton Craddock is a devoted father of two, an accomplished musician, and a thought-provoker dedicated to Socratic questioning, challenging the status quo, and encouraging a deeper contemplation on a range of issues. Subscribe to Think Things Through HERE, and for inquiries and to connect, email him here: Clayton@claytoncraddock.com
Given the various anxiety triggers I have lived with all my life, which have lent themselves to countless incidents of disruptive, uncalled-for, rude, scary and generally reprehensible behavior on my part, and cost me more things, situations, opportunities and people than I care to go into just now, I'll at least summarize my approach to the kind of encounter you're talking about here by saying that I have, step by tedious step over a great many years, managed to dial in a way of life where the things that cause me to be easily mistaken for just an incurably bad person are things I manage to avoid by the most circuitous and ridiculous requirements for myself you could even imagine.
For that matter, you probably can't.
And meanwhile, yes, I have worked very hard on simply improving my behavior in such situations when I have no way out of them.
But the downside of this is that, God help me, I come from the twentieth century. The earliest models I was shown for exemplary or even routinely acceptable behavior probably originated in sixties television, where even moderately-educated people of modest means were seen in both dramatic and real-life situations taking a certain pride in speaking plainly, explicitly, accurately, and using well-chosen vocabulary and well-organized grammar to make themselves as clear as possible to an interlocutor.
And nowadays, in the Century of Stupid where vague and oblique sarcasm loaded with cliquish esoteric social-media-trained cues to mark one's unspoken allegiances is what is taken as the least threatening manner of speaking, and one must never, ever, ever put others in the position of having to endure one speaking of things in their most direct and literal contexts, ever... the entire contents of the previous paragraph now lend themselves to my being taken as some kind of threat more than ever.
And being treated as a threat is the one thing, in the first place, that had always made me act like a dangerous asshole when I felt cornered.
So to the question of have I ever, etc.... yes. This in its way is quite a bit of the story of my life. Automated menus and the like ain't the half of it.