Details matter

When I worked for a newspaper I noticed that when the editor left for a week's vacation, it didn't seem to affect anyone else. We all went about our usual business in the usual way, ignoring the empty corner office. Yet when the lowly clerk took a vacation, it impacted everyone. She knew where everything was stored, whom to call when something needed attention and, perhaps most important, how to tend to the copy machine.

Computers were supposed to decrease the amount of paper consumed in a newsroom, as in other offices, but that never seemed to be the case. Reporters wrote their stories on their computers but still wanted a hard copy. Copy editors designed pages on their computers but still wanted a proof of each page. And multiple copies were as easy to make as a single copy.

The clerk knew how to put in toner. Most of the rest of us didn't, so her absence usually meant gradually fading ink quality. Most of us knew how to add paper to the copier. It was simple, but no one was eager to actually do it. When someone, and this was often me, did put in more paper, there would always be a large quantify of backed-up print jobs flowing from the copier for the next several minutes, and people from all over the newsroom would suddenly flock there to pick up the copies they had been waiting for. Whoever put in more paper would get his or her copies last.

These memories came back to me yesterday when I called my investment office and got a recorded message saying the office manager, among the last people in America who actually answers the phone when it rings, was gone until November. You could leave a message if you didn't mind waiting until then for a return call or you could try one of two other people in the office. This I did and got a long, detailed, quickly-stated message with no less than 10 options. I chose to keep hitting 0 until I finally heard the voice of an actual person who, though she did not know as much as the office manager, was nevertheless able to help me.

Decades ago my doctor had one employee, a nurse/receptionist. Virtually every call to the office was answered. Today the same practice has a different doctor who must have 8 or 10 people on his staff, none of whom answers the telephone when you call. You have probably heard a message like this: If this is an emergency, hang up and dial 911. Office hours are such and such. To schedule an appointment, press 1. To speak to the nurse (which usually means to leave a message for the nurse), press 2. There can be several other options and instructions. Chances are someone will eventually call you back, but because of so many calls each day from telemarketers, most of us don't want to answer our telephones either.

Whenever I hear the oft-repeated phrase on recorded messages: "Your call is very important to us," I have to laugh. If my call was important, someone would pick up their phone and answer it.

And so what began as a reflection on how the lowest-paid workers in any office can sometimes be the most valuable turned into a rant about the frustrations of unanswered calls. The common thread is that in business, as in one's personal life, little things matter.