For four days, we phoned the helpline and were never able to speak to a real, living, breathing, warm-blooded human being! We simply got the same response each time from a rhythmic robot: “We are aware of your situation and will attend to it.”
I do not think they were aware of our situation at all. They did not see poor Leonard bolting up and down the property with extension cords. They did not see us loading towels, sheets, and pillow cases into the car to take to the laundromat. They did not see us filling up our petrol canisters to fill the generator, and if they were really “aware” of my fuming rage, they certainly would not have an automated, soulless voice telling me that they will attend to my problem without guaranteeing when and how.
If they were TRULY aware of my problem, they would have sent a bouquet of roses, a heartfelt apology, a team of electricians and a therapist to unpack my trauma….. And they would have done so within seconds.
My nephew, Marcus, had a similar problem. He is renowned for having a bit of a travel curse when it comes to planes, trains and automobiles. If he needs to be on a flight, it will get delayed. If the plane does not get delayed, the flight will get cancelled at the last minute. If he has to catch a train, he will oversleep. If one suitcase goes missing, it will be his. If he travels by car, a fellow passenger will vomit near him. If he is on a boat, the skipper will get lost.
This weekend was no different. He took a very short trip in Cape Town, but somehow left his brand-new Timberland boots in the Uber. He realised this immediately and contacted Uber’s helpline and the driver, but to no avail. The driver has still not responded at all, and Uber’s automatic message just keeps on saying,” Unfortunately, despite multiple attempts to contact your driver about your lost item, we never received a response. At this point, since we cannot confirm if the driver has your item, we’ll need to close this ticket. There is nothing more we can do. We apologize for the inconvenience and that we don’t have better news.”
Do you also instantly get frustrated when you can’t get hold of a human? Would it make things better if Eskom or Uber had actual people who spoke to you? I know that I get just as angry when a call centre agent reads from a script when I’m on the phone with them. It is tangibly unauthentic.
Is it because we, as humanoids, were made for human connection?
I thought about this a bit and have drawn the conclusion that automation is not the enemy here. The problem is the absence of someone who cares.
It is not that we prefer Karen’s voice or Siphiwe’s voice, we just want to hear ANY voice of someone who could possibly imagine our situation… a real person who could feel sympathy for us while we are chasing our tails, making sure a patient on oxygen does not suffer. We want to hear in someone’s voice that they are at least trying to understand how a young student feels who saved for months to buy his Timberland boots, only to see them disappear off into the distance.
Even though both Uber and Eskom gave us the information we asked for, I suppose, they still missed what we really needed: someone who cared. We needed someone to say, “ I am so sorry this happened to you. Let me see if I can make a plan,” and we needed to believe that they would really try.
Customer care always suffers without competition in business, and I suppose Eskom and Uber just about own their markets. Big organizations often strip us of our humanity and make us feel as if we are just a problem to be solved. In our line of work in healthcare, we absolutely cannot treat patients as if they are simply another ticket to be solved or a box to be ticked. People who are in crisis or in pain, or are waist deep in grief do not just need information, they need kindness, gentleness, compassion, patience and so much love. So often, we cannot do anything to take their pain or the reality of their diagnosis away. We cannot “solve” their problem, but we can really care, and that changes everything.
When people call me or the office to enquire about our rates and what we offer, they are not just comparing prices and facilities, they are asking: “Can I trust you with my person?”
Eskom’s robot says “We are aware of your situation.” At the lodges we really need to be aware of all the details in said “situation”. We need to know which family member on the WhatsApp group starts panicking first, we need to know that Mr Geldenhuys loves to watch tennis but doesn’t remember how to switch on the TV, we need to take into account that Gogo Sindy forgets that she has a broken leg and always tries to walk without assistance. We need to know that Simon is always depressed after his girlfriend visits.
AI and technology are wonderful tools and have certainly made my life easier. I am most certainly NOT anti-technology, I am just very much pro-human. I cannot see how eye contact, a gentle hand resting on a shoulder or a joke to lighten a tough situation can be replaced by an app. I love knowing that my doctor has known my children from when they were tiny babies. Having carers whom I trusted with every fibre in my body to look after my dad in his last months made his end-of-life journey so much gentler on us all. Having a phlebotomist talk to me about his child’s graduation while he sticks needles in my arm makes it strangely bearable.
When it comes to real care, we cannot tick the box or close the ticket until a real person has shown up for a patient and their loved ones. Even if Marcus never finds his boots, he would have remembered if there was someone who cared, who called back, who tried to help. AI can answer questions and generate answers, but when people are frightened, grieving or simply utterly exhausted, they still need another human to look them in the eye and say: “I see you”.
And so, even though I am aware that AI would have written a better blog than me today, from one human to another, I want to thank you for reading this one.