The Cornell Folder

I have a Cornell leather folder. It’s one of those interview folders sold in a student store. It was probably never meant to see such heavy use – I use it to hold my notes for tutoring. It’s a bit torn and ragged and beat up, and I suppose that’s appropriately symbolic. My time there was quite painful.

I don’t know why I keep it. Or I do, and I am afraid of the reason. There’s something possibly pathetic about clinging to this vestige of respectability, to a past that never was as impressive as is pretended. But it’s something that I excuse by saying that it impresses parents.

A few days ago, I was at a Starbucks. I had a few minutes before a tutoring session nearby, and planned on logging on to Facebook for a few minutes. I remember thinking in the parking lot- should I bring the folder? For whatever reason, it was a question, and for whatever reason, I answered in the affirmative.

I sat down, and powered up my computer. A man nearby noticed my folder, and asked me about it.

“Cornell? Did you go there?”

I answered that yes, I had gone there as a graduate student. Thinking the conversation was over, I went back to my computer.

“What did you study?”

Reflexively, I told him “astrophysics”. And I’ve done this enough to know that when I say “astrophysics”, I intend it as a conversation-stopper. I say “astronomy” or “space science” when I wish, consciously or unconsciously, for the conversation to continue.

“What’s that?”

I explained to him that it involved studying the stars, using physics. He sounded impressed, and claimed that that was far beyond him, though he did mention that he was a civil engineer.

He asked me what I did now. It’s a sore topic; I know I’ve fallen far down the social and economic hierarchy. But I did the best I could to muster my dignity and reply that I tutor students full-time.

He returns to the topic of Cornell, and elite schools. He mentions his cousins, graduates of Stanford and Princeton, respectively. I act appropriately impressed, and perk up a bit when he mentions his high school age nephew. Maybe there’s a tutoring job here.

We talk a bit more, my interest now focused more by greed and humanity. But it wasn’t completely cynical salesmanship; I had told myself at some point earlier in the day that I needed to engage more with people, and here was an opportunity. I remember feeling like a sociopath as I was thinking these things.

We spoke more. I found out he was 48, and hadn’t worked for a couple years because of cancer. He was currently undergoing chemotherapy.

At some point, I ask him if he’s changed anything about how he lived life because of cancer. I didn’t mean the practical and routine, or lifestyle changes due to physical limitations. I didn’t mean that, and he didn’t hear that.

“My brother has always said that I had a temper. I was angry a lot. Now, I try to be more calm.”

I would’ve never guessed that this was an angry guy, though he had plenty to be angry about. He had cancer. He lost his job. He didn’t have any kids to help him. He was sitting in a coffeeshop, on a Wednesday afternoon, while others were living, working, picking up their children, and not dying of cancer.

I told him that he seemed like he had a good heart, and that he was a better person now. I don’t know if it came off as trite, or hackneyed. But it seemed to fit, and the compliment, as is customary I suppose, evoked a response that combined polite dismissal with understated hope that it was true.

I had to excuse myself. I expected that tutoring and the rest of the day would fall into place, as it should if this were an allegory. But it was a chaotic mess of difficult students and long hours on the road between appointments. Life may give you these moments, but it rarely strings them together for you. You have to fight to extract perspective.

I don’t think he would’ve spoken with me had I not had that folder. I would’ve been just another guy in business casual on his laptop.

There’s some irony here; brand-name institutions like Cornell build their reputation on exclusivity, not inclusiveness. But that itself provides us something to talk about. It gave this man an opening to talk with a stranger. For a brief moment, both of us felt less alone. 

Protest at Starbucks, Collegetown

I was not prepared for the forest of uplifted chairs and products. I was also unprepared for muttering tongues conversing about monoculture and mothers' wages.

This was not a Pentecostal church. This was Starbucks in Ithaca.

At about 4:15, Collegetown Starbucks was taken over by about 25 protesters. Though the affiliation of the protesters is unknown, it seemed as though they belonged to an environmentally-conscious religious group. They were led by a middle-aged man who spoke with the intensity and the intonation of a southern preacher, inferred from a prayer-like quality of call and response between the leader and the group of protesters, interjected with an "Alleluia!" and an "Amen!"

The protest started reasonably quietly, but grew progressively louder. Towards the end, the leader was shouting.

The group decried corporate greed, the exploitation of individuals in developing nations, and exhorted individuals to go across the street and have some "real, fair trade coffee".

Many people did, in fact, leave, though few seemed motivated by the group's goals of shifting business to fair trade organizations.

The protest also seems to have irritated some of the Starbucks baristas. I overheard a conversation in which one friend was talking to another friend about getting a job at Starbucks. The first friend started discussing the "corporate" nature of Starbucks (as a negative). The barrista interrupted, and mentioned in a somewhat irritated tone that Starbucks helps her get through college, have medical coverage and save in a 401(k).

I know they pissed a lot of people off, but I do have to applaud the clever nature of their protest. The elevation of chairs was needlessly threatening and pretty dumb, but the sea of lifted coffee bags, Naked juice containers, and mugs was very post-modern chic, and yet reminiscent of Saul Alinsky. Me like.

One can only speculate about the goals of the group - and this one will. I full well acknowledge ahead of time that I am in no way "better" than anyone discussed in these thoughts - people who know me know that I can be a self-righteous prig, a greedy bastard, a cold pragmatist, and an emotional whiny baby. So I've been (or hope to be) in every position in this story, and claim moral inferiority.


Q: What were the motivations of the protesters?

Protests, and those who participate in them, are influenced by a number of reasons. And while I can't claim to be particularly informed about any group's motivations, I think I can infer a few.

1. Concern for fair wages to those who are involved with growing the coffee
2. Concern for environmental issues associated with coffee-growing
3. Inform public about their positions (opposition to corporations, "free trade", American consumer culture. (The last was revealed through comments like, "They're selling you dirt from the ground.")

In addition to these, it is possible that the leadership of the group pushed for the following goals:
1. Reinforcing the group's solidarity, via contrast vis a vis a corporation
2. A desire to take an action that would be
(a) relatively simple
(b) have a clear and immediate impact
(c) could be defined in a way that guaranteed success
(d) make a public commitment to avoid private guilt

(a) Relatively simple:

A protest requires fewer resources than a letter-writing campaign, and far fewer than a shareholder proxy fight to change corporate policy. It requires a handful of people, no money, and a minimum of time.

A large, sophisticated protest, of course, requires a lot of organization and resources. Speakers/leaders have to take a lot of time to craft a persuasive message and materials for potential new converts to a cause. Assuming protesters don't want to be arrested, it takes time and thought to solicit and ensure cooperation with local law enforcement. These are less important for a small group.

(b) Have a clear and immediate impact:

The protest is beautiful because it guarantees immediate gratification on the part of the activist. It is immediate action - it disrupts the business and provides immediate emotional catharsis and satisfaction for the members of the protest.

(c) Could be defined in a way that guarantees success

All forms of influence, whether activism, business strategy, or simple requests of a friend, carry the risk of failure or negative consequences. A campaign to petition Congress and bring about change faces issues as to how to measure success, and whether flagging public interest would constitute a failure and a waste of political capital.

But a protest always succeeds in the eyes of its participants. It is pretty much guaranteed to disrupt business in the cafe, at least for a time. It airs the grievances of the group, and informs the (often unreceptive) local public. If people are converted, that's great. If people are unreceptive or hostile, well, then that reveals the need for the group to exist, to educate and fight those who embrace corporatism all too easily.

(d) Public commitment to escape private guilt

Whether it gets Starbucks to adopt "fair trade" is irrelevant. The most important thing it does is to allow individuals to stand up and be counted, and to absolve themselves of responsibility for the actions they oppose.

When I protested the Iraq War on my college campus, I felt like I was doing my part to make my voice heard. At the very least, it served to wash my hands of the war and its consequences - after all, if I voted with my voice against the war, I can't be held responsible for the subsequent mess, right?

By opposing Starbucks publicly, the protesters absolve themselves from the responsibilities of our responsibility for the negative consequences of trade. Whether responsibility stops with that depends upon the individual; cases can be made for complete decoupling from a system one opposes, combatting it whenever feasible and success appears possible, or for working within the system and use reform, not revolution, to slowly change the normative boundaries of society.

*I was going to ask more questions, but got tired, and realized that a real social psychologist could do a better job.*

Conclusion

I recognize protest as an important and integral part of a free, democratic society. And yet I also recognize its selfishness - selfish in the sense that local group identity, and not global justice, is often the underlying motivator and the only lasting product of the protest. It doesn't disqualify it as a valid form of action in America. But it suggests that if our tactics say something about the scope of our ambitions, we should take care to make sure they are aligned.

Comments on Seattle's Best/Borders Rewards Program Policy

I'm currently a bit sick, and felt a bit lonely after a long day at home reading papers. So, I decided to stop by my local Borders Cafe and drink some hot tea. I go to the Borders Cafe in the Pyramid Mall, where I am enough of a regular that most of the baristas know me by name and disposition.

During this trip, I found out an interesting change in store policy. Apparently, Borders is enforcing a 55% Borders Rewards scan rate among its staff. This is a stronger way of enforcing the policy that the staff ask customers for their Borders Rewards card, then offer to sign them up for one. I do not know if this policy is codified, but it apparently comes up from somewhere in the ranks of Borders management/executives.

All of this is interesting in it of itself, and deserves a long, separate post. But I find it interesting that the company found it prudent to explicitly mandate that cashiers will be rated on whether or not they make a quota of 55% Borders Rewards scans. So, I'm going to flex my neophyte business policy muscles and analyze this policy. I'm doing this on admittedly little info, so if you have more information on the specifics, I'd be glad to hear it.

It's a tad long, so I'm going to outline my thoughts in an "executive summary" of sorts, which, knowing my luck, won't be read by any executive other than my immediate boss, who will wonder what the hell I'm doing wasting time on rather bland commentary of corporate policies.

----Summary------

Policy: Cashiers need to maintain at least a 55% Borders Rewards scan rate among customers.

Relevant characteristics of policy/other store policies:
- Percentages depend upon region - for example, Oregon has a policy of 35%.
- Failure to do so will result in being written up.
- Three write-ups, and you're out (fired).
- Customers should spend more than 5 minutes from the time they get in line to the time they are finished.

Why?
1. These tags track purchases. Better consumer demographics will help advertising/marketing divisions better design promotional campaigns targeted at the customer.
2. These data also help evaluate stores and profitability, and in particular, managers and regional directors that might be seeking advancement in the corporate hierarchy.

Potential Problems With Policy:

1. Write-up threat
Demoralizing
Punitive
2. Incentive to sign up individuals leads to longer lines
Contrary to policy of efficiency
3. Odd measure of productivity

Why it will be effective
Seattle's Best can get away from this, because many of its entry-level employees are not seeking a career - they are seeking a way to make pocket money during college.
Common enemy can, paradoxically, improve group cohesion
Innovation regarding application processing

-----End Summary------


First, let's ask the question:
Why would Borders want to implement this policy?

1. These tags track purchases. Better consumer demographics will help advertising/marketing divisions better design promotional campaigns targeted at the customer.

---details of above point, skip if lazy/rushed---

I've always been fascinated by these little membership cards. A long, long time ago, a company could only use aggregate sales, perhaps on a store basis, perhaps by depending upon regional accounting, on what consumer behavior looked like. With the advent of the UPC symbol (1974) and scanning technology, this process became incredibly efficient, but remained limited to per-store behavior melded with local demographics.

As recently as a few years ago, it would be possible to shop in major supermarkets that lacked a membership card. Today, however, nearly every retailer makes use of membership cards (and their handy miniaturized companions, keytags) to record purchases by consumer. For the first time in history, it might be possible to gather timely, specific information on the consumption of a large fraction of the customer base. Granted, I don't know whether Gmail shares my specific profile with Borders (Asian, 24 years old, United Methodist, etc.). Google in general probably has enough information on me (and most everyone in America) that they know me better than I know myself.

But even without that information, Borders can compile the number of customers per store, same-store visits, correlations between cafe use and book purchases, etc.

---END details of above point, skip if lazy/rushed---

2. These data also help evaluate stores and profitability, and in particular, managers and regional directors that might be seeking advancement in the corporate hierarchy.

This point is rather obvious - headquarters wants to promote the individuals with the best potential to extend their effectiveness to a larger number of stores at the regional or national level. The best way to do this is to measure whether they are, in fact, helping the company.

Potential Problems With Policy:

1. Write-up threat

By most measures, this is a pretty stupid way to get 1/3 fired. Whether or not a person signs up for the card depends on many factors - whether they expect to be back, whether they mind toting around a little tag with marginal benefits, whether they appreciate hauling out their existing membership out of their pocket, etc. Little, if any of this, has to do with the given cashier.

The fairly punitive nature of the penalty for not making a quota on something that, technically, does not improve the company's profits is pretty demoralizing. Never mind that "the enemy" (another SB) is already highly ranked as one of the 100 best companies to work for. If Borders wants its employees to feel like a "family" or at least a minimally Hobbesian contest of profit and power, then it needs to do a better job of not handing down policies that most employees would find mean and stupid.

2. Incentive to sign up individuals leads to longer lines

Contrary to a stated policy (and good business sense) of efficiency, signing up for a Borders Rewards card leads to an additional wait. This is absolutely deadly with long lines. (This cafe, I am told, is the second busiest in the state, making this a particularly relevant point.) As someone who spent about 15 minutes of precious Christmas break time trying (unsuccessfully) to get a Blockbuster membership in West LA, I can say that it's infuriating to be the person putting up with the application. My friends Jake and Ed can tell you that it's doubly annoying to be the person waiting for the person waiting for the form.

A customer cradling a book in line will be more likely to wait in line, in part because of the endowment effect. (See behavioral economics.) It's not clear to me that customer waiting in line for coffee or food experiences less of an endowment effect, since they don't have to physically give up an object they've had in their possession (in fact if not in deed). This may be offset by the fact that consumables might pose more immediate utility than durable objects (like books) - depending on how much the customer seeks immediate gratification, they may or may not be more likely to wait in line for a drink than a book.

In any event, filling out the form not only decreases efficiency, but also may lead to a net loss in sales if people are fed up and leave.


3. Odd measure of productivity

There is, of course, the question as to whether or not this should be a good measure of productivity. What Borders is doing is measuring the effectiveness of its employees in getting people to sign up such that Borders HQ can measure the effectiveness of their employees/stores.


What?


That's right. In the obsession for quantitative measure of progress, Borders may in fact be using a handy number as a proxy for effectiveness. Yes, there are tangible benefits for maximal participation in Borders Rewards. Yes, there is a component of effort on the part of the individual employee, and this is a way of measuring it. But seriously, some manager is going to be worrying about whether or not the change in the percentage of employee Borders Rewards numbers on the right side of the quota is positive and of sufficient magnitude. You're talking about a one-two-three-fourth order separation from the actual job of selling stuff.

In physics, the first derivative of position is velocity. The second derivative of position is acceleration. Few people know the technical name of the third derivative of position (rate of change in acceleration), because it is not relevant for most applications. The third derivative of position is known, properly, as jerk.

I'd say the analogy couldn't be more appropriate.

But all sniping aside, the point is that anything that doesn't directly contribute to profits - including employee satisfaction (reduces turnover), customer satisfaction (increases market), and efficiency (decreases per unit costs) - probably doesn't belong in a good business.

Why it will be effective

Seattle's Best can get away from this, because many of its entry-level employees are not seeking a career - they are seeking a way to make pocket money during college. Seattle's Best can get away from this, because many of its entry-level employees are not seeking a career - they are seeking a way to make pocket money during college. If people get fired or leave because of this policy, there will be plenty of other young, cheerful baristas-in-waiting who are waiting for their chance.

It's not pretty, but it works.

There are some positive benefits to this, of course. Borders Rewards numbers will go up. Hatred of dumb management policies will lead to added group cohesion - by defining the other as the amorphous and distant "headquarters", it's possible to exploit in-group/out-group dynamics and create a better, closer team. This is also true because success for any one individual depends in large part upon getting enough regulars to sign up - that is, for all cashiers to do their best.

And in the end, this policy might spur innovative ways of improving the system to make it more effective. It doesn't take brilliance to conceive of keeping a Rewards Card handy to scan customers that don't have one, and then direct them down to an empty spot on the counter to fill out the application. This uses the obligation that has been created by "doing the customer a favor" by scanning the standby card and creating a situation where, in order to be self-consistent with prior commitments, the customer should move down the counter and fill out the info while their drink is being made.

Conclusion

In the end, the reason why this policy exists has as much to do with a principle of management/governance/leadership that is as old as time...

To be a prince, one must always be able to point to something that has been done to serve the body politic, though often doing nothing is more effective and desired than any possible policy.
- ME

A mid-level manager probably came up with this policy, which was stolen by his upper-management boss and pushed as a way to prove value to the company. Yay for leadership.

Anyway, I'm still sick. But I'll drink to Borders - not the company, but the people. Even on a down day, these folks are some of my favorites in the world.