
The standards of quality customer service in the American telecommunications industry have been steadily lowered since the divestiture. What was once a salaried, pensioned position with great benefits executed by professionals who had undergone months of training was slowly given over to disinterested temporary employees who didn't listen to customers but instead read to them dispassionately from a script.
And while executives at the telcos claimed their poor customer service didn't have an effect on the bottom line—the only justifiable claim they could make, since the quality of the customer service became a staple of casual kvetching and late night talk show monologues—it was clear to anyone with a vision that extended past the next quarter's earnings statement that unhappy customers would eventually make for a failing company.
So it is with not a little gloating that I read this report in Business Week about Sprint Nextel, a company hemorrhaging customers and stock value since their merger three years ago, not because they are without good technology and products, but because they treated their customers so poorly.
Employees like Paula Pryor saw the merger's impact firsthand. The 38-year-old, who worked in a call center in Temple, Tex., says the numbers-driven management approach implemented after the combination led to poor morale and deteriorating customer service. Even bathroom trips were monitored. "They would micromanage us like children," says Pryor, who was fired last year after taking time off when her father died.
Sprint's new CEO Daniel R. Hesse is said to have put customer service as his top priority under his new regime, but we'll see.
To crib from Dostoyevsky, the degree of vitality in a phone company can be judged by entering its customer service queue.
Sprint's Wake-Up Call [BusinessWeek.com]