- monthly subscription or
- one time payment
- cancelable any time
"Tell the chef, the beer is on me."
Cet article fait suite à des échanges sur Twitter avec Stephanie Booth sur Twitter.
Moo.com est un site permettant de faire imprimer des cartes de visite, cartes postales etc… qui s’est fait connaître par le format inédit de ses cartes, aujourd’hui communément appelées moo cards et la possibilité d’uploader une photo pour le dos de chacune des cartes commandées. L’autre particularité de Moo.com, c’est Little Moo, le programme de gestion de commandes du site, qui représente le parti pris d’une automatisation assumée de l’expérience client. Étude de ce qui pourrait bien devenir un cas d’école.
Pour être rentable, un service comme Moo.com doit être entièrement automatisé, de la prise de commande à l’impression en passant par le dispatching. Paradoxalement, la possibilité de personnaliser chaque carte de visite, ou des lots de X cartes de visite implique une souplesse quasi manuelle dans le traitement des commandes.
Little Moo vient donc se positionner dans le processus de communication entre les clients et la société en s’adressant à lui au moins trois fois lors de sa commande, à travers trois emails envoyés automatiquement aux trois étapes clés du processus d’achat :
Le message transmis par les mails de Little Moo est très important : il signifie bien que notre service soit entièrement automatisé, nous nous adressons tout de même à vous de manière chaleureuse et humaine.
À ce titre, le premier mail envoyé par Little Moo est le plus important, et j’en retiendrai particulièrement le premier et le dernier paragraphe.
I’m Little MOO - the bit of software that will be managing your order with moo.com. It will shortly be sent to Big MOO, our print machine who will print it for you in the next few days. I’ll let you know when it’s done and on its way to you.
Cette première partie du mail introduit Little Moo et Big Moo, ainsi que leurs champs d’action. Cette démarche permet d’humaniser le programme de traitement des commandes et la chaîne d’impression en créant une relation de personne à personne avec le client.
Remember, I’m just a bit of software. So, if you have any questions regarding your order please first read our Frequently Asked Questions at:
and if you’re still not sure, contact customer services (who are real people) at:
Bien que se présentant comme le principal interlocuteur du client, Little Moo tient aussi à le rassurer : bien qu’il ne soit qu’un programme informatique, il est également aidé par de véritables êtres humains qui pourront prendre le relais le cas échéant. Le client est rassuré car la chaîne de traitement n’est donc pas totalement déshumanisée.
Little Moo relance toutefois la relation de personne à personne avec le client en signant son e-mail comme un véritable être humain :
Little MOO, Print Robot
L’envoi du mail de confirmation d’envoi de la commande est devenu une pratique courante sur la très grande majorité des sites d’e-commerce. Moo.com l’utilise de manière habile à la fois pour rappeler le contenu de sa commande, la date de livraison prévue, et pour maintenir le lien avec son client en utilisant un mode de communication direct, une fois encore de personne à personne.
it’s Little MOO again. I thought you’d like to know, the following items from your order are now in the mail:
Le rappel de la nature informatique de Little Moo et l’utilisation de la signature pour rétablir le contact sont à nouveau utilisés dans ce mail.
Le plus important dans ce second mail est de donner l’impression au client qu’il contrôle le processus de commande malgré l’automatisation, mais dans le cadre d’une relation informelle.
Le dernier mail de Little Moo intervient deux jours après la date de livraison programmée de la commande. Il y traite de deux aspects fondamentaux de la commande :
Hello Frédéric de Villamil.
We’ve met before, I’m Little MOO, the piece of software that manages your order with moo.com. I hope you’ve now received - and are happy with - your most recent purchase with us. If it hasn’t arrived yet please don’t worry, you can check-up on your order here:
As you know, we like to think our customers are happy with the things they’ve made at MOO, and the best way to find out is to ask. If you have time, we’d love it if you could answer just 3 short questions about your most recent experience with us, it’ll help us make things better for everyone:
Thank you for your help, Little MOOCette fois, Little Moo reprend la relation de manière formelle en rappelant ses précédentes missives. Le ton reste très conversationnel comme le montre le post scriptum, qui vient remplacer les traditionnels paragraphes légal de désinscription impersonnels qu’envoient les autres services d’e-commerce.
PS You’ve received this email as a standard part of the MOO order process. If you’d rather I didn’t ask for your feedback on future orders, you can take yourself off the list at the following url:
Thanks, and sorry to bother you
Le concept Little Moo et Big Moo, c’est à dire la personnalisation et la personnification d’un processus d’achat entièrement automatisé fonctionne principalement pour deux raisons.
La première est le côté “mignon” du nom des personnages, qui tranche avec le ton généralement très formel et impersonnel des emails de confirmation sur les sites de e-commerce et leur permet d’utiliser le ton de la conversation.
La seconde, et la plus importante à mes yeux est que le concept ne s’applique qu’à une communication unidirectionnelle. Le client n’a pas besoin de répondre à Little Moo. C’est capital, car les gens ont encore du mal à communiquer avec des programmes informatiques, comme le montrent les échecs plus ou moins marqués des processus automatisés, notamment au téléphone. C’est dû d’une part aux limites techniques de ces programmes, et surtout au fait que les gens se sentent diminués quand ils doivent communiquer avec un interlocuteur non humain. Or, en dehors de certaines marques de luxe qui prennent le parti de diminuer ses clients, lui permettre de se sentir valorisé est la base d’une bonne relation client.
Si Little Moo et Big Moo sont pour moi des cas d’école, ils ne peuvent pas s’appliquer partout, et tenter de plaquer ce modèle à votre procédure de vente risque fort de produire l’inverse de l’effet escompté.
En vrac, quelques raisons pour lesquelles ça ne fonctionnera pas :
Si votre marché a pour habitude d’un mode de communication très formel, le conversationnel ne passera pas du tout et pourra au contraire passer pour de l’amateurisme, voire pour de la déconsidération. Le modèle “client copain” ne fonctionne pas partout.
De même si le montant des articles commandés – et non le montant des commandes – dépasse un certain seuil, le traitement de cette dernière sur le ton de la conversation peut passer pour de la dévalorisation.
Enfin, cela ne fonctionnera pas si votre offre ne permet pas une grande personnalisation des produits ou des options de commande. En effet, le modèle des Moo Cards est avant tout centré autour de la personnalisation de l’offre et la proximité avec le client – une offre client centric – inadaptable à des modèles de grande consommation façon supermarchés.
Article original écrit par Frederic de Villamil et publié sur Ergonomie Web, Expérience Utilisateur et Ruby On Rails | lien direct vers cet article | Si vous lisez cet article ailleurs que sur Ergonomie Web, Expérience Utilisateur et Ruby On Rails, c'est qu'il a été reproduit illégalement et sans autorisation.
Guess what, it’s Monday! And you’re still at that job you hate. Nice.
1. 9am. Get to the office. Go straight to the coffee machine. Hang out there for 10 minutes before heading to your desk. Dread the workweek.
2. 9:10am. Check Facebook and email, despite having just done so on your iPhone 15 minutes prior. Delay the inevitable start of an empty, energy-draining day which will leave you uninterested in social interaction, learning, and sex.
3. 10am. Look around at your co-workers. Realize that they are all either a) mindless drones, b) shriveled, pathetic versions of their former, bright selves, or c) social-climbing douchebag sociopaths. Question the purpose of your existence as you stare at your reflection in your computer monitor circa 1995.
4. 10:05am. Realize how much longer you’ve been at this job than what you intended, awakening in you a horrible, hateful anger which had until now remained dormant like a sleeping dragon for longer than you thought was possible.
5. 10:10am. Begin shaking in rage. Pop a blood vessel in your eyeball. Briefly choke the telephone as if it were some unknown person’s neck before regaining your composure.
6. 10:30am. Analyze options. Consider that, perhaps, you could ask for a transfer to another department or another city. With horror, become conscious that everytime you’ve spoken to them on the phone, they seemed even more brain-dead than the mouth-breathing sycophants in Human Resources.
7. 10:45am. Think back to the time you were offered the cool job with the startup downtown. Have dark thoughts about the we-need-you guilt-tripping that was done to prevent you from quitting. Attempt and fail to slit your wrists with a stapler. Finally acknowledge that you will have to either quit, or throw yourself off the roof, this week. It’s a toss-up.
8. 11am. Awaken to the reality that you may still have much to live for. Recall that time you wanted to work on that documentary or be in that punk band. Realize the guitar is still in the basement, and that no one has yet tried out the website idea you had that your girlfriend was excited about.
9. 11:10am. Start a list of the worst things that could happen if you quit right now. Finally acknowledge the possibility that it wouldn’t actually be that bad, despite how anxious you are about it. Picture yourself on your deathbed.
10. 11:20am. Ask yourself if you can live without your daily soy non-fat latté, your gourmet BLT with aioli mayo, or your 100% pure fruit 2pm snack bar. Ask yourself if starving for a few months is better or worse than being here and simply starving on the inside.
11. 11:30am. Realize that, fuck it, you’re better than that. Walk into your boss’ office and quit with dignity.
12. Noon. Emerge from boss’ office, possibly glowing. Go to lunch. Begin your new life.
According to sources, it’s not illegal to add my name to your email newsletter list if you’ve done some kind of business with me in the past. Evidently, this means that it’s perfectly fine to add me to your list if you’ve sent me an email. Ever. Because I’ve gotta tell you: I’m subscribed to a LOT of email newsletters that I didn’t sign up for, and I’m not very pleased with it. To me, it’s spam, whether or not that’s the legal definition.
I’m not sure what to do with this. Unsubscribing is the easy next step, but then what? I sure don’t feel vindicated just by unsubscribing and saying, “I never signed up to begin with” as my reason for leaving. So, to begin, I’m going to write this to all of you, and maybe, you can forward the following to whoever adds you without your request to their email list:
You evidently mistook access for acceptance. I seem to be subscribed to your email newsletter, and I’m not interested. Now, I realize there’s a click-to-unsubscribe option, but I wanted a moment of your time, seeing as you ate up some of mine by making me go through the process of unsubscribing myself from your mailing list.
I can tell you’re eager to grow your business. It’s clear that you want incredibly smart and engaging people like me to participate in your world. Here’s a hint: blindly adding me to your email list won’t really win you many fans in that regard.
In fact, you know who you get when you use that method? Lazy people who haven’t bothered hitting unsubscribe yet. And if they’re too lazy to opt out (or even report you as spam), how motivated will they be to buy your product or service? Seems like a waste of your database space to me.
So, I’m going to unsubscribe now, and I’m going to wish you the best with your business. You clearly need it, if you think blindly adding me to your lists will ensure your future success.
Thanks and with appreciation,
Share that all you want. Copy it, paste it, reblog it. Whatever. Just let’s get people to stop doing this. Okay?
And if YOU are doing it? Stop. Today. Please? Because I’m getting itchy to out you.
Photo credit Pink Sherbet Photography
Like most people, I look at my e-mail box several times a day and answer my emails by order of priority. I am generally efficient as I classify my emails according to methods shown in best-seller books such as the “Hamster Revolution”. However, every once in a while I receive one of these impersonal emails addressed to me from individuals that ask my benevolence without offering any gratitude about who I am. My answer to these emails is generally inexistent as I politely press the “delete” button to clear my mailbox. However, I constantly ask myself, what makes these people think that I would take my time to help them when they are not even able to take a second to mention my name in the email they just sent me. In other words, why do these people press the damn “send” button that would email their spamming message to a whole bunch of innocent recipients? It seems like anonymity or some sense of anonymity has made some individuals think that they could spam the whole webosphere. However, some might say, but Jean-Francois, where are you going with that boring story that doesn’t seem related to marketing at all? The answer is in the next paragraph.
Sometimes I would wish that button would exist
A little story to make you think about that “send” button
A few weeks ago, a student entered, with an hour late, the first class of the “Brand Management” MBA-class taught by Professor Scott Galloway at New York University (NYU). Professor Galloway, who is the former president of Red Envelope and also an ex-member of the board of directors of the New York Times is well-known for his arrogance but also his fairness and crispy examples. Professor Galloway (politely) asked the student to comeback on next class, since he was late and that according to the course outline, being more then 15 minutes late was not accepted in his class. The student left the class, but email Professor Galloway a few hours later to explain him that he was not agreeing with his behaviour. However, Professor Galloway answered the student’s email with an “in-your-face” ironic email as a response and decided to send it to every other student registered to the course. The conversation is presented below and for more juicy details you can refer to the following article: NYU Business Professor has mastered the art of email flaming.
“Sent: Tuesday, February 9, 2010 7:15:11 PM GMT -08:00 US/Canada Pacific
Subject: Brand Strategy Feedback
I would like to discuss a matter with you that bothered me. Yesterday evening I entered your 6pm Brand Strategy class approximately 1 hour late. As I entered the room, you quickly dismissed me, saying that I would need to leave and come back to the next class. After speaking with several students who are taking your class, they explained that you have a policy stating that students who arrive more than 15 minutes late will not be admitted to class.
As of yesterday evening, I was interested in three different Monday night classes that all occurred simultaneously. In order to decide which class to select, my plan for the evening was to sample all three and see which one I like most. Since I had never taken your class, I was unaware of your class policy. I was disappointed that you dismissed me from class considering (1) there is no way I could have been aware of your policy and (2) considering that it was the first day of evening classes and I arrived 1 hour late (not a few minutes), it was more probable that my tardiness was due to my desire to sample different classes rather than sheer complacency.
I have already registered for another class but I just wanted to be open and provide my opinion on the matter.
MBA 2010 Candidate
NYU Stern School of Business
And The Reply:
“—— Forwarded Message ——-
Sent: Tuesday, February 9, 2010 9:34:02 PM GMT -08:00 US/Canada Pacific
Subject: Re: Brand Strategy Feedback
Thanks for the feedback. I, too, would like to offer some feedback.
Just so I’ve got this straight…you started in one class, left 15-20 minutes into it (stood up, walked out mid-lecture), went to another class (walked in 20 minutes late), left that class (again, presumably, in the middle of the lecture), and then came to my class. At that point (walking in an hour late) I asked you to come to the next class which “bothered” you.
You state that, having not taken my class, it would be impossible to know our policy of not allowing people to walk in an hour late. Most risk analysis offers that in the face of substantial uncertainty, you opt for the more conservative path or hedge your bet (e.g., do not show up an hour late until you know the professor has an explicit policy for tolerating disrespectful behavior, check with the TA before class, etc.). I hope the lottery winner that is your recently crowned Monday evening Professor is teaching Judgement and Decision Making or Critical Thinking.
In addition, your logic effectively means you cannot be held accountable for any code of conduct before taking a class. For the record, we also have no stated policy against bursting into show tunes in the middle of class, urinating on desks or taking that revolutionary hair removal system for a spin. However, xxxx, there is a baseline level of decorum (i.e., manners) that we expect of grown men and women who the admissions department have deemed tomorrow’s business leaders.
xxxx, let me be more serious for a moment. I do not know you, will not know you and have no real affinity or animosity for you. You are an anonymous student who is now regretting the send button on his laptop. It’s with this context I hope you register pause…REAL pause xxxx and take to heart what I am about to tell you:
xxxx, get your shit together.
Getting a good job, working long hours, keeping your skills relevant, navigating the politics of an organization, finding a live/work balance…these are all really hard, xxxx. In contrast, respecting institutions, having manners, demonstrating a level of humility…these are all (relatively) easy. Get the easy stuff right xxxx. In and of themselves they will not make you successful. However, not possessing them will hold you back and you will not achieve your potential which, by virtue of you being admitted to Stern, you must have in spades. It’s not too late xxxx…
Again, thanks for the feedback.
So what do I think about this story?
1. I personally think that the student should not have sent this email.
2. I also think, that the response of Professor Galloway is brilliant, especially the last paragraph.
3. I, however, do not think that forwarding this email to everyone was the best thing to do.
So what is the moral of this story?
Some thoughts are better when not shared. If you are arrogant, before sending an email, make sure to know your sender well. Once your email is sent, anything can happen, and sometimes, this “anything” is not necessarily good for your career. The main lesson that one should learn from this “Brand management” Professor is that every time you send an email you are putting your personal brand into play. What do you think?
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