Trevor Burnham

Sure, it works in practice…

Entries Tagged as 'business'

Comcast Has Made Me Question My Grip On Reality

May 6th, 2010 Comments Off

Comcast account error

I had an unpleas­ant expe­ri­ence with Comcast today. I won’t bore you with the details, but suffice it to say that Comcast offers its cus­tomers a world in which every precious thread in the fabric of reality is as inde­ter­mi­nate as Schrödinger’s Cat. My phone number is and isn’t the number my account is under. My credit card number is and isn’t valid. The Russell set exists.

But here’s the thing that really irks me: Before con­nect­ing me to a human being (after 15 minutes of menu nav­i­ga­tion), the system asked if I’d be willing to give my feedback on my support expe­ri­ence. God yes, I thought, let me tell you how to fix this! 30 minutes later, an auto­mated system called me and asked exactly three questions:

  1. Was your issue resolved today? (Yes or no.)
  2. How pleasant was your expe­ri­ence with the customer support rep­re­sen­ta­tive? (1–5 scale)
  3. How much effort did this support call take? (1–5 scale)

And then: Thank you! *click* But… but… Comcast, you have so much you could learn from me. I vol­un­teered to talk to you! I tweeted @ComcastCares, but receive no response. Do you really care so little? I realize that your monopoly seems cozy now, but once I have a 4G Verizon wi-​​fi box, will I really need to buy cable from a company that evi­dently relishes my suf­fer­ing? And one final question: In that e-​​mail you sent me, asking me to call you about an unspec­i­fied account issue, was it really nec­es­sary to precede your number with So that we may provide you with excep­tional customer service…? The state­ment is tech­ni­cally accurate (excep­tional in the sense of “unusual; not typical,” or—also from the New Oxford American Dic­tio­nary—“mentally or phys­i­cally disabled so as to require special school­ing”), but you need to learn to manage expectations.

I’m not a cynical or anti-​​corporate person. Actually, I had a very pleasant expe­ri­ence with American Express yes­ter­day. (Some fiend had gotten my card number and used it to buy a bunch of songs on iTunes; a friendly customer support person called me to report the fraud.) It’s a cliché to say that Comcast is an evil cor­po­ra­tion, and I don’t even like the phrase “evil cor­po­ra­tion.” But Comcast is the Dark Prince of Corporations.

Tags:    

Rehash

March 29th, 2010 10 Comments

I read Rework while en route to Mountain View to be inter­viewed by Y Com­bi­na­tor. And I want my time and money back. This is a book that could be con­densed down to a Page-​​a-​​Day calendar without any loss of data. I was aware that the book was an update of Getting Real, but I’d assumed the update would be one of sub­stance. Instead, all that’s changed is the style, most notably the addition of illus­tra­tions, thereby allowing the book’s large, 1.5-spaced text to stretch to 273 unsat­is­fy­ing pages.

To be fair, I’m not the target audience for this book. Sure, I’m founding a small startup that makes web-​​based software. But this book is strictly aimed at founders of small startups that make web-​​based software and are lifestyle busi­nesses. If you want to go the more tra­di­tional route (raise serious invest­ment capital, scale your business, and even­tu­ally sell or go public), Rework is as irrel­e­vant as it is banal.

The book consists almost entirely of apho­risms within 1–3 page sections, e.g.: “Plans let the past drive the future.” “Con­straints are advan­tages in disguise.” “When you make some­thing, you always make some­thing else.” Details are con­spic­u­ously avoided. A single-​​page section called “Start at the Epi­cen­ter” contains one analogy (“if you’re opening a hot dog stand… the first thing you should worry about is the hot dog”) and no concrete examples. As a web devel­oper, I’d love to know what this phrase means in the 37signals context: What’s the first line of code that gets written for a project? How is the work planned and divided before coding begins? Other rules seem no more plau­si­ble than their oppo­sites: “Start making smaller to-​​do lists too,” advices the book. “Long lists collect dust.” OK, but surely there are cases in which the sim­plic­ity of a single list makes it more appro­pri­ate than several?

I want books that transmit infor­ma­tion, not just vague inspi­ra­tion. Founders at Work is a terrific book that does both, and I was thrilled to meet its author yes­ter­day. (Jessica actually blurbed this book: “Rework is like its authors: fast-​​moving, icon­o­clas­tic, and inspir­ing. It’s not just for startups. Anyone who works can learn from this.”) But surely I’m not the only one who’s upset that Jason & David passed up a great oppor­tu­nity here: Rather than writing a man­i­festo, couldn’t they have dis­tilled their expe­ri­ences more con­cretely? They’ve run 37signals for a decade, and yet at no point in Rework do they say: “Here is a decision we faced, here’s what we did, and here’s why.” Wouldn’t that be more useful than a list of one-​​size-​​fits-​​all asser­tions, backed up by already-​​familiar case studies? (The iPod suc­ceeded because it had fewer features! South­west suc­ceeded because they fly only one kind of airplane!)

Rework is the embod­i­ment of the cult of 37signals. It encour­ages you to be exactly like 37signals, to find a niche in which you can make cus­tomers happy while scratch­ing your own itch. But not every business can or should be run like a software boutique, and even fewer can be prof­itable by selling “by-​​products” like this book, as one section advises. The fact is that there is only demand for a handful of blogs like Signal vs. Noise, and not every startup founder is cut out for the workshop circuit. Sure, 37signals develops good products, but I can’t help but wonder whether their business phi­los­o­phy might be dif­fer­ent if they didn’t have a lucra­tive side-​​gig as business philosophers.

Tags:  

Stealth Mode

March 25th, 2010 Comments Off

This Sunday, my team will be inter­viewed by Y Com­bi­na­tor. We’ll receive word of their decision a few hours later. If you’re reading this, you’ll probably be curious: Will The­o­ryville be YC-​​funded?

Well, whatever the outcome, I won’t be blogging or tweeting about it, and neither will my co-​​founders. Not for a few months, anyway.

Why? I’m a pretty candid guy. Keeping secrets isn’t natural to me. And in most cases, startups should be open about their achieve­ments; the benefits of buzz outweigh the poten­tial cost of fos­ter­ing com­pe­ti­tion. That’s cer­tainly the case for The­o­ryville. We want to get the word out as far and wide as we can that we’re going to change the way the world does science.

However, one YC-​​funded founder explained some­thing to me: If you say you’re YC-​​funded, that’s news. If you make news, that’s a launch. And if you launch when you only have a landing page? That’s a waste. You’ve burned up the “exclu­sive” launch story that each YC-​​funded startup tra­di­tion­ally gets.

Of course, The­o­ryville is going forward whether we’re YC-​​funded or not, and I’ll keep blogging and tweeting about our progress. But if you want to know who’s backing us, you’ll have to wait for our exclusive.

Tags: