Retail Systems Support or Retail Systems Slavery?

The price sign on the Dasani water said “Two for $2.00.” The 12 other brands of bottled water had no price tag on them at all, and since I wasn’t in the mood to play the “how much” game with the 7-11 employees, I chose the two bottles of clearly priced water and headed for the cash register. When my total came up as $2.42, I politely pointed out the pricing discrepancy. The cashier called over the manager, who voided the sale, scanned the two bottles again and said, “See? $2.42.” If my level of dehydration had been different, I would have left the two bottles on the counter and driven to the next convenience store. Instead I made a polite comment to the manager about his less than adequate merchandise pricing, and I left with my water, making a mental note to never shop at that store again, no matter how parched I may be.

The obvious pricing flaws were annoying, but the authority given to the cash register was unforgivable. Why do retail stores have human beings involved in transactions at all if they’re not actually going to be involved in the transaction? At what point did “systems management” start meaning that our systems are our senior managers, with the authority to override human decisions and interactions?

Just this week I had an extensive discussion with one of my retail clients about a new offer. It’s an offer that’s good for existing customers, good for attracting new customers, and good for revenue and profits. What was there to discuss? The retailer was fighting against the profitable, customer-friendly offer because his “system” wasn’t set up to accommodate it. I wanted to ask this retailer at what point “the system” had been promoted to CEO of his company.

In theory, systems are supposed to support retailers in their retail endeavors. In reality many businesses have become slaves to their own systems by abdicating an inordinate amount of power and control to their own technology. My bank is an example of that. I have been trying to close a checking account for two weeks. I close it, and then “the system” reopens it. Apparently human beings have no authority in this bank because the only thing the bank employees ever do is tell me what’s happening as they watch it occur. It’s all very Orwellian, and quite frankly, more than a little bit scary.

The amount of technology that is available to “support” retailers is mind-boggling. Technology can become your bookkeeper, your loss prevention officer, your inventory supervisor, your communications director, your pricing strategist, your marketing associate, your customer relationship manager, and your point of sale checkout clerk. The hidden danger is that as retailers fall prey to the lure of faster-cheaper-better, they allow technology to weasel its way into so many aspects of their business that, at some point, they literally lose control of their business. As with my client, you are no longer running your operation when the operations of your business are running you.

Eventually the customer, who is fatally human, will make you aware of your operational imbalances. While more customers are willing to accept technology as part of the retail shopping experience these days, fewer are willing to be controlled by it. When “the system” is not serving them, customers will look for a human being who can override the technological inadequacies. In the absence of adequate human participation, customers will fight to regain the control of their own buying authority. And rest assured, rather than get burned by “the system” again, your customers will buy their water somewhere else. The question is, how will “the system” help you then?