Remarkably bad customer service from an industry giant
Subscriber Benefit
As a subscriber you can listen to articles at work, in the car, or while you work out. Subscribe Now
Health insurance is often on the minds of Hoosier workers and employers, and there are times when the subject is front and center. During a medical crisis, as one example.
In my case, it’s because my existing policy was coming to an end, so I needed to review my alternatives and come to a decision. While I won’t name my current health insurance company, it does have tremendous name recognition throughout Indiana, and I wouldn’t be surprised if half the people reading this carry one of their cards.
That carrier has been sending me a series of letters reminding me that my existing coverage is about to end. Urging me to act quickly, they shared my options, and one of them is apparently something called a Conversion Plan. I’m not familiar with what that might be, but the letter said I could find information on their website or by calling a phone number.
Using their website significantly reduces the odds of having to talk with another human, so it was an easy option. As someone who has helped hundreds of clients develop websites, I’m comfortable saying theirs wasn’t great. The navigation was confusing, and if there was some sort of search function, it was well-hidden. Pages looked like they had been thrown together by entirely different groups of people at different times. Not at all what you’d expect from such a large, highly successful insurance carrier.
I figured I’d be able to find these Conversion Plans that had piqued my interest rather easily. There was nothing on the first batch of pages that seemed to be the obvious potential locations, so I skimmed through a second … and then third … tier of possibilities. Absolutely nothing and no little search icon in sight.
But wait! A cute little chatbot pops up on my screen, eager to help me find what I’m seeking. So I enter Conversion Plan … followed by an unusually long pause. Then the chatbot responds and is pleased to take me to a page full of plans for fitness, dieting, and the like. None for Conversion, whatever it may be.
Assuming the poor chatbot simply misunderstood my request, I adjusted the wording but did no better. I realized I was going to have to phone the call center. I have a client that operates truly extraordinary call centers that get rave reviews. I sensed this wasn’t going to be one of those.
It literally took me several minutes to navigate a path through the phone tree and required entering the same information by keypad multiple times. (Did they think my preferred language might have changed since the last time they asked me about it … as in a couple minutes earlier?) Finally, it gave me two numerical choices and told me I could pick one or ask for a Representative. I asked.
I spent several minutes more with a pleasant but heavily accented woman clearly working in a large room with several colleagues and no consideration for acoustics. After having her repeat her first few sentences, I asked her to move her microphone closer to her mouth, which reduced the background cacophony.
After I shared my request, she told me I could probably save time by checking her employer’s website. I don’t think she expected my response to be maniacal laughter, but my filter was wearing out quickly. I explained that I had received the letter mentioning Conversion Plans, and by God, I really wanted to learn about them! Her mode shifted to interrogation, asking pointed questions not about my insurance needs, but about the letter her employer allegedly sent me. “What day did you receive it?’ A week, maybe two weeks ago. I gave her the date at the top. She said that she needed to check something and would I mind holding? Another several minutes went by before she returned, evidently with a copy of said letter.
“So your complaint is that the letter said there would be information online and there wasn’t?” No, I’m not complaining, I’d just like to know what this Conversion Plan thing is. Since they didn’t have anything on the website, I thought I’d call.
Another long pause as she reread the letter. Then, “Well, according to the letter, you just need to call the printed phone number to get the information.” Yes, ma’am. That’s how I got to you. I called that number, and your system chose to introduce us. “Oh, I’m so sorry! They did not send you to the right department. Before I transfer you, could I help you with anything else?” No, but thanks for sending me to the right people.
Left the phone on speaker for another 15 minutes, listening to tinny music broken up by occasional beeps and what appeared to be snippets of other representatives’ conversations, before I gave up and pressed the red button. So I guess I’ll never learn what the Conversion Plan is. And when I chose my new coverage, do you think I even considered purchasing any of their products?
The real reason consumers despise the health insurance industry isn’t coverage limits or wishes that they’d pick up a bigger share of bills. It’s because they’ve accustomed us to dealing with crap like this anytime we have a simple request … even one we’re making at their suggestion. I don’t know much about your company’s customer service, but I’m confident you’ve got at least one high-profile company beat.
Scott Flood creates effective copy for companies and other organizations. To learn more, contact him at sflood@sfwriting.com or 317-839-1739, and visit his blog at sfwriting.com/blog.