I remember once stepping off a transatlantic flight, still reeling from the rictus grins and endless refills of lukewarm coffee offered to me by the BA cabin crew, only to be greeted by a sea of disapproving faces at Heathrow.
My sin? Possibly existing, or maybe just trying to queue for passport control in the wrong lane. The moral of the story? There’s no shortage of ways the British can make you feel you shouldn’t have bothered, especially when you’re accustomed to the almost comical “Have a great day!” one gets in the States.
But here’s the rub: customer service matters. It really, really does. It matters not just because it gives your clients an immediate sense of whether you actually care about their custom, but because in a world where companies are jostling like punch-drunk boxers in a ring, being that little bit friendlier might be the difference between an uppercut that floors the competitor or being left, dazed and drooling, as your prospective customer wanders off to the chap next door.
Of course, we British like to say we’re polite. We queue, we mutter “thank you” when receiving short change from a bus driver, and we gush “so sorry” when a stranger treads on our foot. But politeness and customer service aren’t identical twins. One’s a formal courtesy – that benign acceptance of a neighbour’s savage new hedge sculpture, or a dull relative’s account of their bunions – whereas the other is a more deliberate, structured approach to treating customers well. Actual, genuine, helpful niceness. This is where we struggle.
Let’s be honest about it: American businesses, from the smallest diner in Boise, Idaho, to the glitzy mega-stores of Manhattan, generally do it better. They have a method – a downright formula. You enter a shop and someone greets you. They smile broadly (all teeth, no cynicism), ask you how you’re doing, and inquire if they can assist you. Sometimes it’s syrupy, sometimes a bit forced, but by and large, you walk out feeling a tad better, or at least not guilty that you darkened their door. Contrast that with the classic British “You all right there?” half-delivered from behind a stack of paperwork, while the assistant pointedly ignores the existential pain creeping across your face because you just want to find a size 10 in that jacket.
That’s not to say the entire British retail sector is manned by glowering gargoyles. There are stellar examples of marvellous customer service in the UK – the independent bookshop with staff who’ll recommend exactly the novel you didn’t know you wanted; the wine merchant who’ll steer you away from the half-priced Aussie plonk and gift you with a gem for the weekend dinner party. But these shining examples too often feel like delightful anomalies, rather than the norm. And that’s a problem. Why? Because in a globalised marketplace, people notice. They talk. They tweet. They Instagram. They do everything short of hiring an aircraft trailing a banner that says “Sally’s Shoe Shop in Sloane Square is dire,” and that can seriously hurt your bottom line.
So, why is it so important to improve customer service in British business? For one, consistency builds trust. If you know that every time you pop into a particular café you’ll be treated like an actual human being – with a smile, a dash of warmth, and a readiness to fix things if they go awry – you’re far more likely to come back. Then there’s loyalty. People want to spend their money where they feel valued. Who knew it would be so radical to make customers feel appreciated for shelling out their hard-earned wages?
Another reason is brand image. Slick marketing campaigns and glossy brochures might lure people in once, but it’s the in-store or on-the-phone interactions that cement their lasting impression. In an era when everything’s just a quick Google search away, you can be sure that if someone’s had a rotten experience, they’ll brandish their smartphone and pen a scathing review before you can say, “I’m sorry, how can I make it right?” Reputation, as the old cliché goes, is everything.
Now, let’s talk about the practical side. Is it really that hard to be nice to people who want to give you money? Is it that exhausting, that soul-destroying, to say, “Good morning, how can I help?” or “Have a lovely day”? Maybe the fear lies in the perceived American-ness of it all – that ultra-chirpy, grinning-from-ear-to-ear approach that can, admittedly, grate on British nerves. Yet there’s no need to go full Disneyland – no one’s suggesting you fling confetti at customers as they walk in. But a baseline of genuine pleasantness? That shouldn’t be such an ordeal.
Training is crucial. Invest in it. Proper induction for new staff, where they learn not just product knowledge but how to engage with customers in a friendly, attentive way, paying attention to detail and following up promptly. Teach them to listen – really listen – because there’s nothing more infuriating than explaining your predicament in meticulous detail, only to be met with a blank stare that says, “I stopped listening ten minutes ago.”
And here’s a radical notion: empower staff. Give them permission to fix problems on the spot without needing to consult seven different managers or, worse, a call centre in a different time zone. Customers love a quick resolution; it proves you value their time and want to make things right. And guess what? When employees feel valued and trusted themselves, they tend to pass that good energy along to the customers.
In short, British businesses could learn a thing or two from the Yanks about consistency and cheer. We have it in us to be the best hosts in the world – we’re the land of charming tea shops and faultless B&Bs, after all. So perhaps it’s time we channel that famed hospitality into mainstream business culture. Let’s banish the scowl behind the counter, the resigned sigh on the phone, and raise a swift cup of (perfectly brewed) tea to the notion that being pleasant pays dividends. It’s not that hard. So let’s do it. And let’s enjoy the benefits that come with delivering quality service: repeat business, sparkling reviews, and the distinctly satisfying knowledge that we might just be giving our American cousins a run for their money. Cheers to that.
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Cheer up, Britain! Why customer service really matters—and it’s not that hard to get right