Sign up to get full access to all our latest content, research, and network for everything customer contact.

Extraordinary Becomes Ordinary: 8 Ways Amazon Made a Bad Experience Worse

Add bookmark
Brian Cantor
Brian Cantor
03/25/2014

Call me John Kerry because I am about to flip-flop.

In a sign that the universe simply does not want me to be complimentary when reviewing an organization’s customer experience, a recent string of interactions with Amazon completely destroyed the goodwill the retailer developed last month.

In just one month’s time, a company that seemed refreshingly customer-centric has devolved into one guilty of all the destructive, unproductive processes that give customer service professionals—and customer service providers—bad names.

This is a tale of an extraordinary brand that sadly succumbed to the temptation of being ordinary.

What Happened?

Thanks to an interaction with Amazon—one that initially prompted me to share a glowing review of the Amazon experience--I did not receive mail for a month.

The interaction? Last month, I inadvertently ordered a belt of the wrong waist size. Unfortunately, I did not realize my mistake until after the product shipped. Aware that I was probably out of luck—but hopeful Amazon would have a solution—I inquired.

Amazon’s representative agreed to call the USPS and place a hold on the package. Once the package arrived at a New York branch of the post office, it would be returned to Amazon. Upon receipt of the return, Amazon would process a refund.

That is when the weirdness began. Despite receiving Amazon’s word that the product would be held at the post office, it ended up arriving at my door anyway. My proactive effort did not work—I would be forced to manually ship the item back to Amazon.

Still satisfied with Amazon’s attempt, I placed new orders in the days that followed. They never arrived. According to the USPS delivery tracker, notices were left with instructions on retrieving the packages – but those notices were also nowhere to be found in my apartment building’s mail area. What was going on?

As days passed, I realized I was not receiving any mail whatsoever. No bills. No credit card statements. No coupons. No advertisements. No wedding invitations.

I initially attempted to inquire with the US Postal Service, but their tortuous IVR and maddening hold times made such an inquiry impossible. Going to one physical branch (and directly calling another) did nothing but waste more time (and expose me to some of the most inefficient customer service on record). What was going on?

Figuring the issue might be attributable to my building management, I asked my landlord about the situation. Other than recommending I more securely close my mailbox, she had nothing to offer. She had not seen any mail with my name, and she had no reason to believe the mail carrier was suddenly unable to associate my name with my particular mailbox.

Then came the e-mail that changed everything. On March 21, the USPS sent an automated note that the "hold" on my mail service would expire on March 22. Since when was my mail being held by the USPS?

But as I perused the email, the pieces started to fall into place. The confirmation number was the exact one I received when Amazon "handled" my issue. The "additional instructions" in the hold request that a package be returned to sender. This was clearly the same process that Amazon initiated.

Unfortunately, instead of prompting the postal service to hold one Amazon purchase at its shipping location, the request resulted in all of my mail being held (at a location neither identified in the email nor clarified in any future interactions). All of my bills. All of my personal documents.

To date, I have still not been able to locate my mail.

Why Blame Amazon?

Do I believe the Amazon representative explicitly told the USPS to "hold all of this jerk’s mail?" Of course not. And insofar as the instructions on the hold request reference returning a package to sender, I am fairly confident Amazon did accurately articulate the issue (but perhaps not the correct solution).

By the same token, I know that as a result of Amazon’s involvement in the issue, I did not receive mail for a month. Whether the misunderstanding can be attributed to an inarticulate Amazon representative or an incompetent postal service representative is irrelevant. Had Amazon not attempted to get the package held by the USPS, I would have received mail from February 22-March 22.

And insofar as Amazon’s representative recommended this particular course of action, Amazon affixed its credibility to the effort. If something went wrong, I would not be wrong to hold Amazon accountable for the failure.

More fundamentally, I am Amazon’s customer—not the USPS’ customer—in this particular transaction. I did not ask Amazon to ship via the USPS, and I will not have the luxury of telling other retailers to avoid using the USPS in the future.

I did, however, choose to purchase through Amazon. That is a choice I do not need to make again. It is therefore Amazon’s duty to deliver a satisfactory experience and assume accountability when things go awry.

Based on past interactions with Amazon, I was certain it would embrace that assumption. I was certain that Amazon would go above and beyond to right the course. I was certain Amazon’s representatives would not sleep until fully alleviating the devastating harm of going a month without mail (and any explanation why).

I was wrong.

From Extraordinary to Ordinary

The pain of not receiving mail—and now being forced to wonder whether any sort of ‘mail fraud’ were committed in placing the hold on my account—was devastating enough. It is simply not a problem with which one should have to deal in civilized, metropolitan society.

My experience in attempting to acquire a resolution, however, made matters exponentially worse. The quest to get an obvious wrong so justifiably righted put me in touch with the ugliest version of Amazon I ever witnessed. It was not an accountable organization. It was not a customer-centric one. It was not Amazon.

Here are several points of startling disillusionment:

1) Amazon Got on the Defensive: Instead of recognizing a problem and offering a solution, Amazon immediately focused on disputing its responsibility. The various representatives and supervisors with whom I interacted devoted far too much time trying to prove it was not to blame—or argue why it could not possibly have been to blame—and not nearly enough trying to figure out what could be done to remedy the situation.

That latter focus—remedying the situation—is what most mattered to me as a customer. It therefore needs to be what matters to Amazon.

2) Amazon Forgot I was its Customer: Firmly on the defensive, at least one Amazon agent not only tried to distance his brand from the situation but suggested that I should personally resolve the issue with the post office.

The problem? I am Amazon’s customer – and I hold Amazon solely accountable for resolving a problematic experience. Amazon might not have been in position to independently locate my mail, but it was in position to take the lead in doing so—and in fairly compensating me for the month of suffering.

3) Amazon is Consciously Willing to Fail a Customer: After thinking about what it would be like to go a month without mail, the telephone agent reasoned, "we wouldn't have anything that could come close to the value you have in your head." Excuse me?

With that quote, the agent was demonstrating a welcome dose of empathy. He understood my pain, and he understood it warranted a solution of significant value.

Yet he refused to provide it. His supervisors refused to provide it. Forget ending a call knowing a customer might not have been truly satisfied; Amazon’s practice, apparently, is to predicate a call on the fact that it cannot truly satisfy its customers.

4) Amazon’s Support Function Lacks Versatility: In order to streamline the support process, Amazon builds resolution options into its knowledgebase. According to a representative, agents simply input the nature of the problem, and the system replies with solutions it is approved to offer customers.

But what happens when a problem as outrageous as having one’s mail cancelled for a month emerges?

Per the representative’s training, it meant that he could not offer any sort of solution without involving a supervisor. Since supervisors seemed weirdly numb to this issue, no approval was offered. The agent’s only option was to deliver a "small credit" that supposedly came out of his own pocket.

Amazon’s system is inherently flawed. An issue’s absence from the existing knowledgebase is not a sign of its frivolity. If anything, it is a sign of a particularly egregious problem that warrants a particularly significant solution.

5) Amazon’s Supervisors Set a Bad Example: Perhaps trying to send a message that "asking for a supervisor" is not a fast-track to better support (and what a jaded message to send!), Amazon’s "supervisors" were actually less helpful than the front-line agents.

Though the front-line agents with whom I interacted were still guilty of the aforementioned offenses, they at least seemed remotely interested in offering solutions.

Their supervisors categorically did not. The first supervisor with whom I interacted quickly declined to provide further assistance and moved to end the interaction. The second never even got on the phone—he simply told the front-line agent he was not approved to offer anything significant.

That behavior sends a counterproductive agent. An effective call center boss coaches his agents to recognize that customers are their true "bosses." What the customer says goes.

Here, supervisors were encouraging agents not to value customer sentiment, feedback or experiential suffering. Unless told otherwise, an agent’s aim should be to provide no or minimal resolution.

6) Amazon Misleads, Breaks Promises

Frustrated with my last call to Amazon and begrudgingly accepting of the fact that I was not going to get the kind of compensation warranted by my suffering, I offered Amazon an out.

"Give me the small credit, figure out how I can retrieve my lost mail, and I’ll let this go."

The representative agreed to do so on the ground that I would join the call once he connected to a USPS support agent.

I waited an hour. When the agent finally called back, he revealed that the conversation with the USPS representative already happened. I, contrary to his promise, was not looped into the call.

Worse, he did not focus his efforts on retrieving my mail. He instead used the call as an opportunity to further absolve, in his twisted mind, Amazon of blame (see point #1). When reporting back to me, he noted that the USPS agreed it was improbable that Amazon somehow ordered the mail hold.

Absent from his report--and presumably his call with the USPS (if it even really happened)—was any update on how to get my mail.

When promising to undertake an activity on behalf of a customer, businesses must assure their actions—and the intent of those actions—mirror their promises.

7) Amazon Disconnects Calls Without the Customer’s Permission

Knowing that one "catches more flies with honey," I remained on my best behavior over the course of my two-hour call with Amazon. I spoke in a soft, pleasant voice and was sure to empathize with the front-line agent whenever possible. But niceness has limits, and that changed when the agent broke his promise regarding the USPS call.

After doing so and then spewing more nonsense regarding Amazon’s role in the matter, I lost it. I raised my voice and lost the ability to label the conversation PG. I never said anything personally offensive—and quickly returned to a pleasant tone--but the agent declared himself "disrespected" and ended the call.

Was raising my voice a wise strategic move? No, but only insofar as some businesses subscribe to the nonsensical notion that demeanor should dictate the quality of service. Whether I am pleasant or confrontational, I am a customer who was wronged as a result of an Amazon transaction. I am entitled to a complete support effort.

The agent does not get to deem a call complete because the customer expresses his anger; his only focus must be working to alleviate my anger by the time the call ends.

8) Amazon Does Not Offer Social Support

For a web company, Amazon is decidedly behind the times when it comes to multi-channel. Despite making a stink about the issue on Twitter, I have received no actual assistance from Amazon. It has provided contact numbers and complaint forms, but it has not done anything to actually resolve my issue.


RECOMMENDED