It is how you react when things go wrong. It is in your attitude. It is in your response, in your communications, in your admittance to a problem and in your ability to take ownership of, and responsibility for it.
In this Standard Bank have failed so miserably that they deserve censure. And this I give in measure for measure.
Nowhere has it been made apparent to me, or more forcibly, about how as a customer of theirs I exist only to serve them. I exist only to pay for the services that they reluctantly offer for my consumption, for which apparently, I should be eternally grateful.
I am treated like nothing more than their personal piggy bank. Part of the slop in the trough from which they feed. Part of the pie from which they feed.
Which, I understand. This is a South African Bank after all, and who realistically expects anything more? They;re too big to actually give a damn about me and so they play the numbers game – management through systems, categorisation based on profiles whilst spending wads of cash advertising that they care about me as an individual. Bullshit! A little honesty in advertising would go a long way in my particular case. You know? Something like: “We’re a bank. You’re a number. But at least you know where you stand and we will charge you less since we don’t have to invest in millions worth of propaganda telling you otherwise”.
And let me head this off at the hills – no, I am not changing banks because no matter which way you slice it, they are all the same. Been there, done that and now, it is purely because it is Standard Bank that have pissed me off the most that I am singling them out.
The question I have in this crisis is this. Where are the board? Where is the MD? Where is the CEO? These fat cats pulling 20 bar a year – where are they in the middle of a crisis on their watch?
There is no message or hint of an apology from up above. The ivory tower untouchable execs are to all intents and purposes, fiddling whilst their proverbial Rome burns. There is no message on their website. Nothing from their Facebook Page (other than an outdated self-congratulatory accolade about being number one in some or other bank sponsored meaningless survey). Their lackeys there are typing their fingers to the bone saying sorry – but what does that count for? Nothing. Because it comes from a faceless lackey, who genuinely doesn’t care. They’re just paid to type whatever they’re told to type. And we, who use that page, KNOW IT.
Worst there has not been a single means of contact from these overpaid executives who I am afraid are totally out of touch with their customers, to we, their customers. Their means to their yachts. Their holiday pads in the South of France. Not an SMS. Not an e-mail. Not so much as a hint of a fax. Dare I ask for a phone call?