Don't Make Me Have To Get Mad

By Peter DeHaan

November 5, 2008

A few years ago, a female associate and I were traveling to a convention.  We were greeted at the hotel with long lines at the registration desk.  Eventually advancing to the front, we were matter-of-factly informed that only my room was available; my co-worker's reservation had been cancelled.  The hotel, by the way, was sold out.  Could we share a room?

I informed the clerk that sharing was unacceptable, stressing my confirmation number.  "Your confirmation was cancelled," came the response.  "But I didn't cancel it," I countered.  It was then that I realized a confirmation number meant nothing if a hotel intended to not give you a room.

At three in the afternoon not everyone had checked in, so there were rooms available.  Granted, it was possible that all rooms were booked, but at that moment they were not yet occupied.  I knew that with a bit of persistence, we could get our second room.

First, I politely insisted that we be provided our second room.  Next, I tried an emotional plea, but the clerk remained unmoved.  I was getting nowhere. 

I knew what I needed to do.  It would be a stretch, so I gathered my resolve and voiced my request at a much louder volume.  The area was full with other guests also in line, so I garnered quite a bit of attention.  It wasn't long before the clerk excused herself and summoned the manager.

With a broad smile, he greeted me by name and extended his hand.  He seemed well schooled in problem-resolution techniques -- but so was I.  Giving him an icy stare, I didn't budge.  Once my agitation had been adequately communicated, I cautiously shook his hand, while maintaining my penetrating stare.  My ploy was working, so it was hard not to smile.  "I understand there's a misunderstanding about your reservation," he calmly stated.  I loudly informed him that I had no misunderstanding and wanted the room I had reserved and guaranteed.

He began applying his conflict resolution skills to calm me down, skillfully maneuvering me out of the lobby.  I acquiesced so that he could sense he was prevailing.  He guided me to a chair and said he would see what he could do.  He returned a few minutes later with the second room.  For the first time, I permitted my smile to appear and shook his hand, sincerely thanking him.  The whole ordeal took about 30 minutes.

I knew that we would eventually be granted our second room.  Why couldn't the desk clerk have been given the authority to assess the problem and solve it -- without making me have to get mad or to summon the manager?

All too often we do the same thing to our call center agents.  We make them take the heat from callers -- who've learned to be abusive to get their way -- without granting them the authority to resolve the problem.

In call centers a key problem is agent turnover.  A major contributor to this turnover is job stress.  Stress is caused by loud and abusive callers trying to work the system that we've imposed upon them.  If we would just empower our agents to do the jobs we hired them for, their stress would surely decrease, and they might just stick around a bit longer.