WE'RE SO SORRY: WHY ROBOTS WON'T WIN

The notion that an apology has two parts is rooted in its art and science.

In its art, it’s all about delivery, the way someone says the two words … sincerely and with empathy.  [Psychologists often recommend offering a hug, a donation to a favorite charity, even the top ten reasons … to make the delivery more human, more real.] 

Its science has more to do with content than its flair, from ensuring that “I’m sorry” refers to the same situation to a promise not to do it again.

Those on the receiving side, believe it or not, treasure the response.  A 2009 study from the University of Nottingham School of Economics, offering complainers words or cash, found that almost 50 percent preferred the apology.  Over pure hard cash.

Yet, despite our knowledge that the more humane we get, the better, many businesses, groaning under the onslaught of customer complaints, turn to software as an answer.   In the past, companies did resort to an automatic responder who garbled the language in making amends for some mishap.  Airlines have been a prime culprit, er, user.  Fliers were often taken aback, insulted, and even felt minimized when the computer spit out a rote or form letter.  And they often voted with their credit cards.

Today, hundreds of customer care agents work for U.S. airlines and other merchants and service purveyors, trained well in how to say “I’m sorry” in real life. 

Proof that human “mea culpas” are best.

THE FUNDAMENTAL THINGS OF LIFE

Of late, we’ve been pondering intangible stuff.

Like authenticity, truthfulness, honesty, and so on.

And figuring out how, exactly, it relates to what we do.

This millennium’s writers are similarly obsessed, whether it has to do with temptation or excess or authenticity.  Our wonderment, though, concerns less of the weighty observations (i.e., ‘what’s the world coming to?’ ‘where did we stray?’) in favor of the how to identify and embed sincerity:  techniques for spotting; methods for infusing speeches, videos, even annual reports with the straight stuff; and ways to differentiate between the different kinds of truths.  [And yes, Virginia, there are many; it just depends on the side you’re representing.]

After all, we specialize in framing and creating those conversations.  It’s important to us that our readers, our audiences, our viewers understand that we’re being as sincere as we can be.  It’s somewhat easy to see if a speaker is disingenuous; body language, tone, and style are usually the give-aways.  It’s not that easy to see through emails and emojis and Internet copy to determine the truth-telling factor.  Sincerity is more than the facts; it’s a cinch to validate those.  Rather, it’s the communication’s intent and its desire to not deceive, to not boast, to be clear and honest in its content that has us thinking. 

Many writers in past centuries would have pooh-poohed our quest; it was Oscar Wilde who said, “a little sincerity is a dangerous thing, and a great deal of it is absolutely fatal.”  Truth – or dare?

IS IT REAL OR ...

Way too many years ago – in our memories at least – the late great Ella Fitzgerald starred in advertising for a product from a long-gone company (now part of Imation).

The tag:  Is it live or is it Memorex? 

The pitch:  No one could differentiate the quality of the music – live versus tape – in listening sessions.  It was so real, the copy exclaimed, that Count Basie himself couldn’t tell the difference.

Our minds made this decades-old connection during the always-continuing discussion about “authenticity.”  Someone at a recent meeting asked:  “Well, how can you know who’s or what’s authentic?”  Answerers talked about true selves, no hype or hyperbole, candor, and a feeling of knowing.

We don’t think that’s good enough. 

After all, what many communicators and advertisers and others in our profession are now even more aware of is the cry for the genuine-ness of brands and conversations, thanks to the social media avalanche.  Consumers are ever quick to criticize in public those people and things that don’t mean what they say – or what is said for them.  Just calling a product or service or person authentic is missing some opportunities for definition and measurement.  And in the kind of ironic twist everyone loves to point out, MBA admissions directors are launching applicant team discussions to probe group dynamics and individual genuineness.

It ain’t easy.  In True North, Bill George, ex-CEO of Medtronic, realized there was no one profile of authentic leadership.  Authenticity depends, he says, on executives who know who they are, show passion for their purpose, demonstrate their values consistently, and lead with hearts and minds.  Not on imitating a Jack Welch or Sam Palmisano or Herb Kelleher.

How do you tell the fake from the real (and we’re not talking pleather or snakeskin, margarine or butter)?  Can a true-to-you self also be impulsive?  How do we, our clients, our employers and our colleagues best reflect the sincerity the world craves – and balance other real corporate demands?

We’re listening … at cbyd.co.