Retail protectionism breeds retail incompetence (cont.).

After last week’s news that certain importers would no longer sell their goods online to Australian shoppers — depriving Australian shoppers of competitive pricing while forcing them to endure atrocious customer service — another Aussie columnist has responded with a tale of retail incompetence that begins:

Retailers of Australia: I give up. I don’t care what Gerry Harvey says. You don’t want my money so I’m taking it to the internet. Trying to find a shop assistant in a major department store is exhausting. Trying to make a purchase is even worse. I’m tired of trying to buy something only to be told it’s out of stock, advertised by mistake or being sent to Australia by Uzbekistanian yak.

I’ve detailed other examples of retail incompetence and the pathetic responses from Aussie businesses grown fat, lazy and contemptuous of a captive customer base that’s beginning to understand how bad they’ve had it, as evidenced by this comment:

Par for the course. Until the internet and cheap travel came along, I suppose Australians thought that the shoddy, half-arsed, discourteous way they were treated by retailers was just how shopping worked. Now they know that it ain’t. Par for the course also, though, that instead of trying to lift their game, the retailers have taken to calling into question the patriotism and intelligence of their customers when they exercise their option of shopping off-shore.

Another:

Hear hear!!! Who buys anything from a shop anymore??? That is like SOOOO 90s. You would think that if Australian retailers were SO desperate for our money they would invest in something like… oh I don’t know… customer service training. The number of times I walk into a store and have to imitate a meerkat (you know, that thing you do when you sort of peer up and around to catch the salesperson’s eye) to get any sort of attention drives me absolutely insane. Get your act together.

Has Australia reached a tipping point?

UPDATE
It may not reveal a tipping point but today’s Age has the following headline: Watchdog urged to probe local distributors blocking online sales

Watchdogs do just that — watch — so it’s up to consumers to alter their behaviour and force the hands of overcharging retailers. Options like FetchUSA and Price USA provide outlets for buyer anger over being held hostage by foolish, short-sighted businesses who adopt anti-competitive pricing strategies. I’ve used Price USA and was happy with the service. I’ll use them again.

And I’ll never, ever set foot in an Australian retail shop.

UPDATE II
Go figure. Common sense from a government body. Today’s Age reports that Australia’s competition watchdog will investigate clothing importers who have gone on record as saying they’ve reached agreements with overseas websites to either stop selling the products they sell or raise their prices to the same exorbitant level as retailers. Said Australian Competition and Consumer Commission chairman Rod Sims:

Making sure Australian consumers benefit from the revolution that we’ve got in the online world is a top priority … We will therefore use the [Competition and Consumer] act to its fullest.

Hope, or feel-good gibberish from a powerless gov’t body? Time will tell.

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‘Whammo Blammo!’ iPhone app launch goes wrong.

I played a lot of pool as a kid. My grandfather had a small table in his fitted basement in Neptune, NJ. I’d play WABC radio or cassette tapes of early Springsteen and shoot game after game. The small table didn’t prepare me for snooker but I can grip a cue like a pro.

Anyway … if I was playing with my brother or cousins it was common to hear ‘Whammo Blammo!’ whenever there wasn’t a shot. ‘Wham!’ went the cue ball, ‘Blam!’ went the balls it struck. No rhyme, no reason, no clue as to what would happen once the cue ball struck.

An identical strategy to the one employed by so many woebegotton companies launching websites and apps.

Public Transport Victoria (PTV) came under fire yesterday after they surprised users with an upgrade of their old Metlink train timetable app. Feedback was swift and severe — users found it confusing, unexpected and unfriendly.

The reaction from a PTV spokesperson was predictable:

We expect it will take time for people to get used to it … We are committed to making the app work for users and we will use feedback to help build on its current features.

Even a minimal commitment pre-launch user interface testing would have avoided this pummeling of the public transport’s brand, which is pilloried in Melbourne like a lousy racehorse that mysteriously maintains short odds. A quick look at the app reveals its developers were undoubtedly working with a low budget and tight deadline and gutless managers chose a ‘Whammo Blammo’ launch before working out bugs and user issues.

On a pool table ‘Whammo Blammo!’ sometimes resulted in the pocketing of a preferred ball, an opponent’s ball, or the cue ball. Everything was left to chance. Not a wise billiards strategy … and a definitely foolhardy business strategy.

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Dick Blood rolls in his grave.

Ugh.

My 3.5 years at Seton Hall — I attended a small college in rural Pennsylvania for a semester in 1984 — were uneventful. Too much hair, misplaced priorities, post-adolescent foolishness. Despite my lackadaisical attitude, I was remarkably fortunate to be a journalism student at Seton Hall as Dick Blood was beginning his teaching career after leaving his post as City Editor of the NY Daily News. He mixed a passion for Watergate-era journalism with a bloodhound’s nose for bullshit. He told us tales of booze-soaked nights in the News’ midtown newsroom in a New England accent completely untainted by New Yawk-ese. He only taught at Seton Hall for two semesters before moving on to New York University and finally the vaunted Columbia School of Journalism, and I was blessed to have had classes with him in both of those semesters. A quick search reveals Blood passed away in February of this year at the age of 83. I can imagine his rage at how our modern era of clickthroughs and page views has resulted in his beloved Daily News turning into a gossip-filled, soft porn mess. I came across this unforgivable block of Daily News homepage last week. Bad enough that it’s about a TV show — but ‘crys’? Who ever spells ‘crys’ like that? Other than someone with ZERO qualifications to work in any arm of publishing? Aaaahhh, Dick Blood … what I wouldn’t give to hear you tear those responsible a new one.

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‘Fetishising’ viral.

Huffington Post has been a leading viral news source since Twitter’s birth in 2007 so it’s initially odd to read Arianna Huffington’s questioning of social media‘s place in the global dialogue of news and ideas. But then it just gets fascinating with insights like this:

“We are in great haste,” wrote Thoreau in 1854, “to construct a magnetic telegraph from Maine to Texas; but Maine and Texas, it may be, have nothing important to communicate.” And today, we are in great haste to celebrate something going viral, but seem completely unconcerned whether the thing that went viral added one iota of anything good — including even just simple amusement — to our lives. The truth is that sometimes it does, but very often it doesn’t. It’s not even a very complex question; the problem is that we seldom bother to ask the question before we dutifully hop on the algorithmic viral wave. We’re treating virality as a good in and of itself, moving forward for the sake of moving. “Hey,” someone might ask, “where are you going?” “I don’t know — but as long as I’m moving it doesn’t matter!” Not a very effective way to end up in a better place.

And this:

Or as Sheryl Sandberg put it, “What it means to be social is if you want to talk to me, you have to listen to me as well.” A lot of brands want to be social, but they don’t want to listen, because much of what they’re hearing is quite simply not to their liking, and, just as in relationships in the offline world, engaging with your customers or your readers in a transparent and authentic way is not all sweetness and light. So simply issuing a statement saying you’re committed to listening isn’t the same thing as listening. And as in any human relationship, there is a dark side to intimacy.

Read the whole thing. It’s completely non-political. Promise.

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Bloody lawyers.

I know … the back of a cereal box has never been a source of enlightenment, but this headline on the back of Sultana Bran (‘juicy’ raisins are called sultanas in Oz) reminds me of battles with skittish client-side lawyers.

“No, we can’t say it prepares children to learn … we may only suggest that it prepares them to GET READY to learn. Please make the change for corporate ASAP. Where’s my Blackberry?”

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Text & Twitter take over.

There’s no fighting it … social media has revamped the language businesses use to present products and services online. I’ve still got clients who find it necessary to stick to overly formal and/or technical language on their websites, which in 2012 is a superbly effective way to broadcast just how out of touch you are.

I was reminded of this just now as I updated WordPress, the platform on which this sporadically updated blog is built. Here’s the welcome screen language that popped up after the update was complete:

Welcome to WordPress 3.3.1
Thank you for updating to the latest version! Using WordPress 3.3.1 will improve your looks, personality, and web publishing experience. Okay, just the last one, but still. :)

I hate the :) , of course. But I’m 46 — the new 96 in an age of 140-character, emoticon-enhanced communication.

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Parliamentary plagiarism.

Tardy plagiarist MP Craig Thomson.

It’s little wonder Australian politicians are regarded with contempt when a story like this makes front-page news: An MP named Craig Thomson took a $24,000, 42-day European and US tour earlier this year. Rules governing overseas travel require reports to be submitted within 30 days but Thompson overshot this deadline by four months. The report he finally submitted, torturously titled The Global Financial Crisis – The European and US Experience – Lessons learnt and future expectations — included large passages lifted verbatim from Wikipedia. According to today’s Age:

More than two-thirds of the report’s 33 pages, including most of its analysis and commentary, has been cut and pasted from internet sources.

I imagine teachers and professors regularly check students’ work against such tactics, but it seems unlikely that government ministers need worry about such scrutiny. Imagine the terror coursing through the halls of Parliament this morning as ministers fret their own reports being subject to such basic review. When a clown like Thompson can feel confident in submitting a document that’s 66% plagiarised four months late there’s obviously zero concern for oversight. His belligerence is blatant:

When contacted yesterday, he said he had ‘no idea’ when he submitted his travel report. He declined to respond to questions about plagiarism, saying that ‘it’s not an academic exercise’ and ‘my report speaks for itself’.

Yes it does, Mr MP. Yes it does.

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Rolling with the Internet.

Imagine an outcrop of boulders in ancient Mesopotamia 5,000 years ago. (You were just doing that, right?) A group of elders watch from above as two young men struggle to pull a cart. Instead of sliding it over the ground on thin rails of wood, the pair have carved round wooden objects and placed them beneath either side of the cart. The elders point and laugh each time the men below must stop to repair cracks in the wood. “Why are you wasting your time?” they cry. One of the elders laughs longer and harder than the others. He is the local sled maker. “You’re mad to think anyone will adopt your crude tool! People have been happy to pull their loads with my sleds for generations. Don’t you know who I am? Who do you think you are to challenge my business?”

This man has a distant descendant, and his name is Gerry Harvey. He owns Australia’s largest consumer appliance/electronics chain and recently addressed shareholders on the company’s 2011 performance. Crikey described Harvey’s remarks:

Gerry’s also cranky with consumers not merely because they’re increasingly shopping elsewhere and shifting to services, but because they now spend too much time online. “We’ll regret the arrival of the internet in 10-15 years’ time,” Gerry said yesterday. Gerry is of course extrapolating his own feelings onto the rest of us.

For decades, Harvey grew rich gorging on the superprofits delivered by being a gatekeeper in the retail sector, exploiting consumers’ ignorance of the vast margins Australian retailers were adding on to imported goods. The internet has exposed those margins, sending a competitive shock through much of the retail sector. That’s one of the reasons his business model is now under pressure. Now retailers have to compete, and innovate, like normal businesses.

But like every other gatekeeper, all those years of profiting on consumers’ ignorance, lack of choice and willingness to pay over the odds have wrecked Gerry’s ability to innovate.

He’s still pretty damn good at whingeing though.

The whinging didn’t stop with consumers — Harvey also griped about competitive pricing:

In a frank admission he told shareholders that his local operations were ‘treading water’ and that his sales were getting hit by indifferent consumer spending and massive price deflation, which has led to the company repositioning its shelf space away from electronic goods where the price erosion is most severe.

He cited as an example of price erosion a 32-inch colour TV advertised recently for $299. “We were selling those things for $699 a year ago,” he said.

If you’re in the audio visual, computer segment in retailing, “you’re getting a hiding and there is no end in sight for that hiding,” he added.

Generations of Aussies have ‘taken a hiding’ from greedy merchants like Harvey offering little choice and astronimical prices. Take a lesson from the sled makers of Mesopotamia, Gerry: Adapt or die.

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Fijian follies.

What do we have here? More appropriately ... what don't I have here?

The past couple of months have been a test. Many may find it impossible to feel compassion for someone whose luck went belly up on his seventh trip to Fiji but that’s the hand I’m forced to play. The shock of being robbed of nearly three years of work has faded and I’ve belatedly begun a serial of sorts on my personal blog, Parramatta Yankee (begun in 2007 when Aradhna and I were living in Sydney’s western suburbs) detailing the spiraling misadventure. Here’s part one.

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I’d like mine well done, thanks.

Aussie sports media is choked with gambling pitches, from scrolling odds during live matches to TV commercials at all hours of the day encouraging desperate, insecure punters to miraculously ‘get in the game’ by wagering on competitions played by strangers who’d sooner let their chest hair grow back than allow commoners to step on their fields of play. Facebook is a natural landscape for gambling industry bottom feeders, but as this ad demonstrates, Centrebet would be wise to commit a portion of their winnings to a proofreader.

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