Minato-ku or the “Port Area” is a central part of Tokyo, which used to be harbourside for goods being delivered to the capital in ancient times. My three barbers’ stories are tales of customer service opportunities gone astray, in a country where customer service is the envy of the rest of the world. Each story brings forth a reflection on our own customer service and how we treat our buyers. My apologies to Gioachino Rossini for lifting the title idea for this piece from his famous opera.
Minato-ku or the “Port Area” is a central part of Tokyo, which used to be harbourside for goods being delivered to the capital in ancient times. My three barbers’ stories are tales of customer service opportunities gone astray, in a country where customer service is the envy of the rest of the world. Each story brings forth a reflection on our own customer service and how we treat our buyers. My apologies to Gioachino Rossini for lifting the title idea for this piece from his famous opera.
Barber Number One worked in a men’s barber shop in the Azabu Juban shopping street which I frequented (and took my son too), for fifteen years. During that time a number of different barbers there took care of my hair as they came and went. One day, while trimming the hair on the back of my neck, the electric razor must have had a fault, because he cut my skin where he had been shaving my neck. My wife, being a typical demanding Japanese consumer, was appalled by this poor customer service and went there to complain about how they were treating her husband. Me being a laid back Aussie, I didn’t raise a fuss myself, but that didn’t stop my missus from wading in.
The youngish barber decided to argue the point with my wife and wasn’t immediately forthcoming with a satisfactory apology. My wife showed the offending damage on the photos on her phone and wasn’t backing off. One of the more senior barbers intervened and made the apology on behalf of the shop. Did that satisfy her? Not in the least. Why? Because she didn’t feel it was a sincere apology. She told me I should never attend that establishment again.
The lifetime value of a regular customer is high, especially in a crowded market. There was a management issue there because the service culture wasn’t correct. The interesting thing I understood was that barbers are hard to recruit these days, because not so many people want to join the trade. They felt they could afford to lose me as a regular over fifteen years or more but they couldn’t afford to lose the barber. The point though is where do you draw the line around the culture of your service? What are you saying is acceptable behaviour to the other staff? When things go wrong, this is when the real culture of your organisation is revealed.
Barber Number Two belonged to a well known chain of successful barber shops and was introduced by my wife as an appropriate alternative to the previous bloodthirsty razor wielding maniac she disapproved of. I wasn’t all that keen on this Roppongi establishment, once Covid-19 hit, because it was a rather confined space. In the centre of Tokyo, a lot of companies are using what were once apartments as business premises, so the layout and size can be quite small. Having trained this young guy on how I like my hair done, I persevered, Covid or otherwise. I called to make an appointment only to be told he had been transferred to one of their shops on the outskirts of Tokyo.
Staff movements happen, but how we handle them is another matter. Did my barber call me and introduce his successor? No. How expensive would that have been? Again, no one was thinking about the lifetime value of the customer here. I had invested in educating him about what I liked and so I would not switch easily unless I had to. This is another management failure, where handovers are not being properly choreographed. Customer continuity has a distinct value to it.
Barber Number Three is my new barber and belongs to a shop which has been continuously operating on that same spot for the last 203 years, again in the Azabu Juban area. It must be the oldest barber shop in Japan and probably the world. The young guy cutting my hair showed me to the chair and started asking me about how I liked my hair done. Red flag there. He didn’t introduce himself to me, and I had to ask him for his name. Why would that be the case? I asked him about the history of the shop and it was clear he didn’t know much beyond it was 203 years old. He didn't know if they had famous people over that time as customers. I asked him how they traditionally cut hair in Japan, before western scissors arrived in the Meiji era – he had no idea.
So, this was really just the same as any other barber shop, because the management has not educated their staff about the heritage value of their offer. I was a new client, so here was the chance to make me a permanent client. In a sea of so many competing establishments, I thought what a waste of an opportunity to differentiate themselves, beyond just having a sign in the window, that says they are over 200 years old. There was no narrative around that fact, no great stories attached to it, no buzz, no particular vibe.
The common theme across these stories is how to differentiate your service in highly competitive industries. There were also poor levels of understanding about the lifetime value of a customer on the part of the staff. These were leadership issues and the solutions were basically cost free and simple, yet they couldn’t pull it off. So, let’s take another cold hard look at our staff’s service provision and particularly at the service culture we have created. Are we all doing what we are supposed to be doing? Do the staff understand these concepts or are they just doing their daily job? We often presume our people know these things, but perhaps we need to remind them more often.
