It Pays To Trust in Business
Trust, reliability and assurance are key factors in the growth and success of any brand, regardless of size. That we also look for these traits in our closest friends bears testament to their validity. But too often these softer elements are perceived as poor relations to price, positioning and product, and can be dismissed as collateral damage in the ongoing race to achieve trading targets.
Such an attitude is shortsighted and wrong. I believe that faith, dependability and confidence are essential to any brand. They can attract the repeat business and word of mouth recommendation required to move a brand ahead of the competition. As the building blocks of a brand’s personality, they can ensure that customers get more from their dealings with a business. Likeable brand traits attract and retain high value customers: that is a fact.
Brands are not dissimilar to people in that way. How we relate to each other leaves an impression and steers people on any further interaction with us. In our personal life we would not want to give a bad personal impression by appearing rude, bungling or unapproachable, so why would we imagine that so-so service was sufficient in business? Clearly it isn’t.
Walking in Belgrade recently, I came across an striking example of well-measured and appropriate customer service that left a lasting impression on me. It was only a fairly innocuous business and my time with them was short, but it reminded me of those core values, and it even restored my faith in mankind. Not a bad output for any business.
Zeleni Venac is one of Belgrade’s most popular ‘green markets’ selling fresh produce, small household goods and cheap clothing. Perfectly positioned at a bustling hub for commuters and shoppers, it attracts all sorts. Joining bustling shoppers last Friday morning, one small watch stall caught my eye. I was reminded that, for weeks, I had been carrying around my dead watch, so I enquired about a replacement battery. The stout, leather-faced man and his reedy sidekick pointed out boxes of batteries piled alongside the secondhand watches and clocks. He proudly emphasised familiar brand names and batch numbers to prove the legitimacy of his products. Clearly, the fact that they stocked Sony and Samsung batteries was meant to give this rickety stall a degree of credibility. I would not consider myself gullible, but his approach worked.
Handing over my Diesel watch, the man got to work with his tools, still holding a conversation with his friend and paying me little attention over his half-rimmed glasses. Job done. But then came the difficult moment. Installation of the battery cost 200 Dinar but, after rummaging in my pockets, I found that I had only 150 Dinar in low denominations plus a small wad of 1000 Dinar notes. Inevitably, the stallholder didn’t have any change, even though he had been working for a few hours already. Rather than remove the battery and throw my watch back at me in annoyance (which is what I half expected), the kind-hearted man took my 150 Dinar, reset the time on my watch and handed it back to me. To my surprise (which would have been clear on my face), he just asked me to return with the outstanding 50 Dinar later in the day. Mistrusting my shabby Serbian skills I double-checked that I had understood him correctly. Yes, I was right: he was trusting me to return later with the cash. Remember, I was a foreigner, quite likely a tourist passing through, but he placed faith in me to do the right thing and come back. As I walked away, admiring the ticking hands on my revived watch, I was a little taken aback by such confidence that I would return.
This simple but effective act of faith played on my mind all day. So when I walked back to my hotel that evening, I detoured via the market, clutching a 50 Dinar note in my hand. The look of delight on the stallholder’s face as I walked up the steps towards his pitch was priceless. He knew that his trust in me had been well placed. I handed over the cash and he firmly shook my hand, laughing and saying something that I did not understand but his meaning was clear. We parted, both waving goodbye like old friends. It was a simple service transaction but the experience was many times greater than any other I had while shopping during that trip. It gave personality to his business.
I have told many people about my experience with the watch-seller and, next time I am in Belgrade, I will be taking all my watches to be refreshed at that little stall in Zeleni Venac. I suggest that you do the same. Say hello to my new friend when you see him.
Marcus Agar has been commissioned by Branding Magazine to write a series of opinions and observations. Click here to read the original version.
No comments yet.
Be first to leave your comment!