The devil in the detail

Over three weeks ago I wrote that the experience of moving into retirement was like moving to a foreign country, especially in the need to learn new bureaucratic routines relating to pensions, tax, Council Tax, and putting retirement lump sums to work. Given all the security concerns in banking over recent years, doing something as simple as changing account addresses also proved problematic. It was fine with accounts in two banks out of three, each with its own registration routine, but the third was a different matter. 

On two separate occasions a week apart, bank staff took my details, but their computer refused to enter them. This precipitated them into embarrassed apology and promises to get it done later, which didn't materialise. I then wrote to the bank manager and hand delivered a letter, but received no acknowledgement, and a bank statement was sent to the Vicarage instead, proving nothing had been achieved. So after a fortnight of this, I wrote to Customer Service at HQ and complained, cataloguing events thus far. Today, a week after posting the letter, I received a reply at home with a fulsome apology and explanation, plus the promise of a forty pound credit to my account as a 'sorry' present.

It seems that the glitch had been caused by an error written into my account details, either on some earlier occasion, or by the latest bank clerk. The bank computer recognised there was a problem but the remedy for this was not accessible to the operative, who was thus left bewildered at the failure of a routine keyboard task. As often with tasks that rate as 'too difficult', it got put to one side and not properly dealt with, until I complained. In the same post was my new Council Tax i/d card, bearing the name 'Reverand Kimber'. I wonder if the same spelling error had been made by the bank operative? It's the sort of thing you can look at for ages and not see, if 'Reverend' is a word you hardly ever use.

Computers can be hard taskmasters, all too easily generating a sense of despair and powerlessness in users when they don't work as they should. This is something I often feel when trying to do travel enquiries or book on-line. Sites rarely operate in a way that is completely natural and intuitive to the user, causing endless bouts of frustration, re-entering data that is correct, but hasn't been retained on a page because of an incorrect choice made about the next step, an so on. It may be much better than it was a decade ago, but a lot more work is needed to make a machine as helpful and friendly to deal with as an an expert human.