Faceless technology is leaving bank customers frustrated when things go wrong - Andrew Vine
It was one of those toe-curlingly embarrassing moments. The supermarket checkout repeatedly refused my debit card while the people in the queue behind sighed and rolled their eyes at being kept waiting.
The man on the checkout was rolling his eyes too, and plainly wondering why somebody turns up with a basket full of shopping when they haven’t got the means to pay for it.
By handing a few items back, I fortunately had enough cash to afford the essential bits and pieces and left, wondering if my bank account had somehow been broken into and emptied by a fraudster.
No, that wasn’t it. The account was safely in the black, so back home I followed the online prompts to find out why my card wasn’t working.
They were utterly useless, sending me on a 20-minute merry-go-round, at the end of which I was no wiser, so I rang the customer helpline. Another 20 minutes on hold before I finally managed to speak to someone.
Can’t understand why this has happened, he said. Hold the line, and I’ll come back to you. Ten minutes. Then he came back and said he needed to pass me to a colleague.
Another five minutes. Then the apologetic-sounding colleague came on to tell me that my card had been cancelled in error, three months before it was due to expire, and without a replacement being sent out.
Okay, mistakes happen. I asked for the card to be reactivated until its replacement arrived. Sorry sir, we can’t do that. Once the system has cancelled the card, we can’t override it, but you can go into a branch and withdraw cash to tide you over until the new card turns up, which should be about a week.
And that meant a 10-mile round journey and £5 parking, because most of the bank’s branches have been shut, including the one that was a few minutes’ walk from my home.
Ah yes, the cashier said as she counted out the notes. This happens quite a lot. It’s the system, you see.
The system. It’s a term we’re all hearing more and more, as everyday tasks from banking to shopping to trying to get a GP appointment become increasingly removed from human agency.
The system has a life of its own, and in all its inscrutable omniscience is beyond the control of anybody the customer can speak to, even if it is possible to talk to somebody at all.
The system is spoken of by banks and online retailers in a tone of voice that effectively takes it for granted that no human being is responsible when things go wrong. The system cannot be challenged, overridden or held accountable. It simply exists and is there to be obeyed.
All the corporate waffle we hear from these organisations about how much they value customers is just meaningless rubbish, because nobody is taking responsibility. Everyone is subordinate to the system.
While holding to speak to the bank, most of the pre-recorded messages urged me to go online and seek assistance. When I didn’t, a new message appeared, saying, “thank you for your patience and respect”. Respect? What’s that supposed to mean?
A friend had the same experience of running into the brick wall of the faceless system when a Christmas gift failed to turn up from an online retailer.
After a series of emails of complaint were met by automated responses, each beginning with an infuriating “Hey!”, when she finally managed to actually speak to somebody it turned out to have nothing to do with them.
It was the system, which also dictates that a refund cannot be paid in less than a month, despite it taking payment instantly when the order was placed.
This is the world of artificial intelligence that we are all being dragged into whether we like it or not. Banks shut branches and put employees out of jobs, handing power over people’s accounts to computer programmes that make mistakes.
Retailers, insurance companies and utilities are all going the same way. Genuine customer service has been substituted by a frustrating online run-around and chatbots that generate anodyne responses of little use to anybody.
And when the system goes wrong, as it does fairly frequently, we see people denied access to their bank accounts or default on direct debits which means that month’s mortgage doesn’t get paid, followed by a nasty email generated by the chatbot which has suddenly turned unfriendly.
Not too long ago, I’m convinced that my banking problem would have been solved by popping into the local branch and speaking to one of the staff, who would have sorted it out in minutes. No hanging on the phone, and no online maze to negotiate.
But that competent service and genuine willingness to help has been destroyed by the system. Progress? I don’t think so.