My job, in a nutshell, is developing custom software solutions, specifically supply chain and resource management software. Some of our clients simply buy a license, but many enter a contract for a monthly support agreement where we help address issues that arise with the software. It’s a good working arrangement: having consistent contact with a client via a support agreement actually makes it more likely that said client will contract with us in the future for bigger system enhancements, and the client receives a pre-determined amount of support hours each month without having to be concerned with the cost.

The majority of my working time is actually spent on such a support agreement, handling issues for our largest client (known as Client #1). Our software serves as a web-based interface between two of their internal systems: data from their master database goes to one area of our software, while data from hand-held quality inspection devices is sent to another area. The web-based interface combines these two masses of data into easily understood quality performance numbers. This information is vital to their business performance and, by extension, their stock prices. And no, I don’t own any of their stock…

Client #1 has been with this company longer than I have, almost seven years. They are a large, internationally known company with unlimited support hours each month. We definitely want to keep them happy and it’s my job to do so.

There’s only one problem. At this point, about 80-90% of the issues I handle for them have nothing to do with the software we’ve created. They’re caused by bad data. Bad data from the back end, bad data from the front end, someone fat fingered an entry, someone sent the wrong data for an inspection center. The list goes on.

Invariably I get an email or phone call about an immediately pressing issue, something not working right, files failing saying their back-end counterpart was not delivered. Even though I know with almost certainty what the issue is, I investigate before responding. I dig through the log files or peruse the original back end data file. And then I respond as politely as possible that the error was a typo. Or, in some cases, someone didn’t enter a data aspect that is required to process the files.

There’s only so much corrective reinforcement I can give. Because of the corporate hierarchy, the people I deal with aren’t the ones making the errors. They’re simply designated Points of Contact, funnels if you will. The people making the errors don’t even know that I or possibly even my company exist. Moreover, they’re located in hundreds of places around the globe: language and time zones are a built in issue. The best I can do is show the contacts I deal with how much this affects their business. A typo may seem like a tiny mistake, but that one piece of bad input causes the output to be incomplete, invalid, or in a worse case scenario, misleading. Business decisions, who’s hired, who’s fired, which contractors to retain: all of these are affected by that one small typo.

If I can convey the seriousness of such a small error, my next step is trying to prove a pattern of behavior. Connecting the dots, if you will, to show that this particular data entry clerk or that particular inspector are consistently making the mistakes. This type of analysis is actually not part of our agreement with the customer. Once I make the software work and get the data to process, I’ve met my obligation. Going that route doesn’t help me or Client #1 in the long run, though. Whenever possible I point out exactly where in the process data is being corrupted. Who is making the typos, who is cutting corners and not entering the complete data set. As a former trainer, I know that it’s always more effective to address a performance issue with a specific individual than it is with an entire team just as it’s more effective to address a team instead of sending a memo to an entire location. The more detail I can provide, the more dots I can connect, the more likely it is the correct person will receive the feedback.

And what do I get out of it? A happy client, and fewer emails if I’m lucky.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, January 27th, 2009 at 10:50 am and is filed under Work Life. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.