Over the past ten days, I’ve spent a half-dozen hours on the phone with my ISP’s customer service line, trying to figure out why my intarwebs aren’t working. I politely described my issue to several different reps, answered the same Level 1 troubleshooting questions multiple times over (yes, in fact, I -have- checked to make sure the cables are plugged in properly), and patiently awaited line test results that would tell me what I already knew: I had no internet connection. (ORLY? YA RLY.) Each time, after the battery of diagnostic tools had been run, I was told “oh, you need to speak with Department X. We don’t handle these types of issues. Please wait while I transfer your call.” Moments later, instead of reaching a different customer respresentative in the appropriate department, I was dumped back out to square one: the initial help menu.

from one of my favorite webcomics, indexed

This wasn’t a mistake, however; it happened several times in a row. Apparently this is how the support system at this company was designed. Everyone at this ISP shares one main phone number, and even the second-line reps don’t have any internal switching system. I listened in horror as one particularly kind gentleman, in an attempt to track down the root of my problem, was forced to navigate the exact same voice menu I used to get to him. WTF?!? When organizations don’t provide proper support and resources to employees, how can those employees possibly provide proper support to anyone else?

We as consumers aren’t helping the issue, either. We expect businesses to provide us with more, better, faster, and cheaper. We measure success in terms of financial growth from quarter to quarter, not customer satisfaction or retention. We’re always on the go, and we don’t have much patience when things go wrong. We are rude to waitresses, bus drivers, and checkout clerks, and they are rude right back.

In short: we as a society devalue human interaction. It is a necessary evil to get what we want, when and how we want it. The problem is, human interaction is at the core of true service. True service isn’t about money or fame. It’s not even about fixing, or helping:

When you fix, you assume something is broken. When you help, you see the person as weak. But when you serve, you see the person as intrinsically whole.

(from this incredibly powerful essay by stan goldberg.)

Serving is about investing your time, your energy, and your whole self into something. It’s about listening, it’s about caring, it’s about giving and keeping your word. It takes strength, passion, humility, vulnerability, and a healthy dose of respect for yourself and for others. It’s not easy to do, but service, as the essay above explains far more eloquently than I ever could, is its own reward. Whether it comes from a philanthropist, an educator, a geeky mom, or a b-movie enthusiast, individual service provides the foundation upon which community can be built.

So, on this Labor Day, with the beginning of the semester, a presidential election, and oh yeah, a couple of thunderstorms rapidly approaching, I’m curious: what does service mean to you? How can we improve the service we give, and the service we receive, as technologists but also as people? I look forward to hearing your thoughts …