Should we be happy with an automated response from an airline? I say yes.
Most of the feedback from corporate America is already fully automated. First, we get a purchase confirmation, then a shipping date and tracking number, followed by delivery confirmation — all computer-generated, and we know it. Retailers have timely feedback down to a science. Continue reading…
As far as rejection letters go, the one I almost never use is unfailingly polite.
It’s apologetic. It blames a “system” in which the deck is stacked against you, the consumer, for my failure to accept a case. And it offers several other options, including small-claims court or a credit-card dispute, as possible alternatives.
But a few weeks ago on this site, I confessed that I hate using the rejection letter when someone turns to me for help as a consumer advocate. Continue reading…
It was just a matter of time before corporations created the perfect form letter, capable of fooling a veteran consumer advocate. Or you.
You know what I’m talking about: those emails that say “we’re sorry you feel that way,” but offering you nothing for a customer-service failure.
Spotting a form letter used to be super easy, which was helpful, because you could quickly appeal the boilerplate rejection to a supervisor. In the early days of email, when low-level agents didn’t understand the difference between text and HTML, you could actually see the cut-and-paste responses, because they were rendered in a different font. You knew you were being fed a line.
If you said, “not really,” then maybe you know Theresa Putkey, a consultant from Vancouver. She had a run-in with a TSA agent recently after trying to opt out of a full-body scan, and sent a complaint letter to the agency assigned to protect America’s transportation systems.