The great thing about social media? It gives everyone—from the largest celebrity, to the mid-sized company, to the average Joe—an opportunity to voice his opinion globally.
The bad thing? That opportunity differs from entity to entity.
For as much smoke is blown about the "little guy" finally getting a voice against The Man, the reality is that the bigger "little guy" has a far bigger voice.
When Morton’s met a loyal customer with a Porterhouse steak at the airport, it was a social maven with an extensive network—not someone with 25 Facebook fans—on the receiving end of the reward. Dave Carroll was not a celebrity when he sang about United’s customer service failure, but did the fact that he could generate attention with his music make his issue any more serious than those faced by non-musical people?
But disproportionate social opportunities can also work for customers. Insofar as typical customers are far more likely to relate to fellow customers than they are businesses (big or small), customers have an inherent believability advantage when conveying their perspectives on social networks. Most are familiar with the ills of poor customer experiences, and so when one of their brethren puts forth an issue, they’re likely to give it the benefit of the doubt.
Insofar as they have plenty of reasons to distrust brands, rarely will customers extend the same benefit to businesses.
Sure, there are exceptions (notably in the B2B space). But at the end of the day, if a customer can even remotely envision another customer’s complaint as legitimate, he is going to accept it. And in accepting it, he will take the corporation’s official responses—and responses from its brand advocates and ambassadors—with a grain of salt.
Consider the recent controversy surrounding M Spa & Salon, at which the owner allegedly berated a customer whose autistic son was crying during a haircut. Another customer shared the unfortunate anecdote, and a media firestorm quickly developed, with thousands agreeing to boycott the establishment.
It seemed improbable that the salon owner would be able to fully explain away the incident, but even if she could, once the story went viral, there was no way to fully recover from the blow. The situation was readily digestible for anyone who ever felt disrespected by a business, felt judgment against bringing kids into an establishment or had sympathy or empathy for those suffering autism.
Regardless of whether the initial account was blown out of proportion; for most customers, there was only one party capable of being in the right: the affected customer.
Any alternative perspectives, even those coming from fellow customers rather than employees or brand representatives, were bombarded with dislikes, downvotes and repudiation. No matter how reasonable or innocuous the questioning—from wondering whether the mother should have been responsible for controlling her child, to whether a crying child might have impacted the experience enjoyed by other customers, to whether the initial account of the incident was exaggerated—if someone’s response deviated from the "this is so tragic, the Salon was so wrong" line of thinking, it was met with negativity.
If objective, third-party customers received such negativity for disputing the original account, what chance did the brand have of exiting the argument unscathed? To the thousands of customers who provided their sympathy and signatures of intent to boycott, there was a clear villain here, and the only variable was the extent to which the salon owner’s response would amplify or reduce that perception of evil.
Sure enough, the owner’s effort to provide some explanation and context with her apology was met with additional feedback from a customer base that had already made up its mind.
The simple lesson here is that the greater transparency and discourse resulting from social media does not transform the reality that the customer is always right. It does not improve an organization’s ability to hold its ground and win arguments without alienating the affected customers.
What it does change, however, are the stakes associated with ignoring the reality of customer management. In today’s environment, a simple lapse in judgment or customer management mistake, let alone a systemic failure, becomes a possible trigger of market-wide condemnation. And it speaks to the overall character of the organization rather than the isolated intricacies of the transaction.
In today’s era of the social customer, once the customer publicly fires a shot, businesses must consider the war unwinnable. Their only realistic goal, at that point, is to iron out a treaty, preserve their land and build for the future.
With that in mind, their only realistic response, at that point, is to concede, apologize, and prove it will resolve both the short-term, isolated situation and the long-term process that created it. Engaging in a battle with customers, no matter how tempting and objectively-justified it might be, is a surefire way to lose the war, lose customer loyalty and irreparably damage the brand.
This might not seem fair, but customer service has never been about "fairness." The idea that the customer is always right, which long predates social media, cements the categorically-unfair nature of the beast. No matter how hard they try and how much they take into account customer needs when building their products and policies, organizations will deal with vitriolic customers, and their only suitable option is to bite their tongue, accept responsibility and work towards a solution.
True whether the interaction takes place on a private phone call or in a public social forum, it might not be fair, but it is the only way to survive in the "age of the customer."