The post office gets a glow up

Or how when you are inclusive, it doesn’t piss-off your customers.

Since the dawn of time, and in my experience, going to the post office has been an excruciating activity that at times, unfortunately, must be suffered through.

Tell me you feel this way too?

When I lived in Sydney I had to go into the equivalent of a basement to retrieve packages that were apparently a “failed delivery” despite me being home and no one ringing the door bell or knocking. I always imagined that behind the locked door where the packages were kept, was a massive mound of parcels and packages that the postal worker climbed through to find my parcel. The postal worker often returning empty handed to ask what the size of the package was, or what did I think it looked like, which was mostly a futile activity given I wasn’t the person who sent the package.

Residing in New Zealand, visiting the post office has more likely been to send parcels. Items I’ve sold on Trade Me (NZ’s answer to eBay), or to send items to my family in Australia.

This has also been a painful experience at the little “post-shop” up the road from where we first lived in Auckland. Despite the woman who runs it living a couple of doors up from our rented “Villa”* and me often saying hello to her on the street, she was incredibly unfriendly, preferring to talk to locals she knew, rather than serve me. She only warmed up when I was posting the 10th parcel in her shop.

Last week I had craftily organised Arran to post a parcel at the little post-shop I needed to send over the recent long weekend. Alas his attempt was thwarted because the proprietor (who Arran and I have taken to calling the old bag, which is both unkind and accurate) decided that the community didn’t need to post anything closed up on the Friday and went on holidays.

So this week, faced with having to post the thwarted parcel post attempt plus some other items to Australia I googled the closest post office that I could ride my bicycle to. I had forgotten there was a mothership post office near my gym and decided to go there. I headed out on my bike to hit the proverbial two birds with one stone. A backpack of parcels for the post office and then go to the gym.

The post office has had a recent glow up. Perhaps in readiness for the year of the horse? First impressions were good. It was open, and seemingly well laid out. It was easy to find the post packs and work out what size was needed, but the whole experience left me wondering what the point of the glow up was.

Was it to create a better customer experience? Only partly I would say. Was it to be more efficient? Again only partly I would say. Was it to employ less people. That didn’t seem to be the intent either. Was it to confuse, annoy and generally piss-off people wanting to post parcels. 100% achieved. High five 🖐️

I entered. I chose a post pack for the size I needed to post. I completed the addressee and sender details. I stood in the middle of the room because there was no “line”. I was served quickly. The first question “ Have you completed the online declaration?” No I say (the last fairly recent visit to the post office required a paper declaration completed at the counter). “Here” says the woman. Use your mobile phone and this QR code and complete your declaration online.

Sighing I go sit on one of only two seats to complete, entering ALL the details that are already on the parcel plus more including the weight of the parcel. How the hell would I know how much the parcels weigh? Cottoning on to the post office glow up being about “self-service” (but not as well thought through as say a supermarket self-service) I look around for some scales. Sure enough, there they are for my weighing pleasure.

I complete the declaration for the first parcel. I have a bar code on my screen, that I need to show the postal worker at the counter, but I need to complete another declaration for a second parcel. Despite the “glow-up” I need to take a screen shot of the bar code before I can complete a second declaration. FFS.

Complete the second declaration. Stand in the middle of the room to wait to pay and send my parcels. Get asked by an old lady to move up because there isn’t enough room for her to stand in the “line”.  Want to smack woman because there is no line and she can stand wherever she wants, because “self-service”.

Get served. Show first bar code. Tell the woman I want the parcel tracked. She asks that if in the event of my parcel not being delivered would I like the parcel returned at my cost, or destroyed. Huh?

Now tell me dear reader, if the point of going to the post office to send a parcel, wouldn’t you actually want it delivered? Not returned (at your cost) or destroyed??? FFS

I point this out to the postal worker who then heads off into a long-winded explanation of why they have to ask this, which I don’t need. I’m thinking the little sign in the “glowed-up” space about treating the postal workers with respect might need to be bigger because for a parcel that weighs less than 1 kg and costs more than $40 to send to Australia I expect it to be delivered. Because that’s what you do. It’s your core business!!

THEN the patient but I imagine harangued postal worker who is likely sick of dealing with people like me and it’s only 10am gets out a tape measure to measure the dimensions of my package. Now I have used their very own packaging AND provided the weight of my packages using their “self-service” scales and she gets out a builder’s tape measure?? 

Then she prints out the declaration I completed online, asks me to “check” the 2pt font size text and sign.

Repeat with the second parcel but with complications around my description of the contents because

a) there was no instructions on how to enter multiple items and their weights in one package, and

b) this process is not catching import duty criminals, it’s just pissing off people trying to send their family gifts. No one could possibly read these declarations anyway because it gets printed in 2pt size font!

After shelling out over $100 and spending 20 minutes to send two tracked parcels to Australia that may, or may not get there, AND get returned to me at MY COST I turn around to leave to see there is at least 12 people waiting in the line that isn’t a line, and I’m left wondering what the point was of this design thinking process mapping BS that NZ post has gone through.

It’s clear to me this whole glow up situation is not about efficiency. Though perhaps when those people in corporate mapped out the process with their sticky notes, it was.

It was certainly not about thinking about the diverse needs of the general public trying to send parcels. For example, did they include elderly people who might not be used to completing forms online and potentially have challenges completing a declaration on their phone? Did they consider that most people don’t send parcels every week, and therefore don’t know the process? This could be easily solved by clear and numerous posters outlining what information is required to send a parcel within New Zealand AND overseas.

While I was in the post office there were a number of people who couldn’t send their parcel because they didn’t have the recipient’s phone number.  I was sending the parcels to my mum who does have a phone number but good luck getting her to answer it. It’s either not charged, in the bottom of her handbag which she can’t hear, or in her house somewhere which has little mobile reception.

Has anyone in corporate tried the service? Thought about how people would be served? A clear place for people to line up would be helpful. Or a take a number type system. What if you were vision impaired? Or deaf? Or had another type of disability? It wasn’t clear how you would navigate the services. I can tell you that being fully abled did not reduce me wanting to punch someone.

THIS is why you need diversity in process mapping and decision making, and it’s particularly important if the general public is your customer.

Lisa xx 

*Villa sounds lovely and romantic doesn’t it? It’s actually code for a timber home built any time from the 1920’s and 30’s which, if not renovated with insulation added, is colder inside in winter and hotter inside in summer, and grows mould on the inside of windows all year round, but especially in winter.  Villa’s in the area we live start from at least 1.8 million dollars and are unrenovated at that price point.