When radical transparency becomes too much information
Thursday, October 23rd, 2008
My dad once saw a rat emerge from the kitchen in the Bombay Hilton and scuttle across the dining room. His dinner didn’t taste quite so good thereafter. This, by the way, was a very long time ago and I’m (95%) certain that there aren’t any rats there any more.
What I saw in the kitchen at Eat during a recent visit to London wasn’t as bad as a rat, but the “bold” soup I was buying didn’t taste as good as it normally does thereafter.
I love Eat. I have breakfast, lunch and coffee there every time I go to London. I love their Birchser Muesli, I love their soups and I love their pies. Most of all I love the idea of Eat.
The idea of Eat is the one that’s espoused on their website. Indeed it’s in the Google blurb before you even click through.
“EAT is a small family run company dedicated to quality food.”
When you do click through the copy is written in the first person plural by Faith and Niall MacArthur, the founders of Eat. They preach a convincing gospel of smallness, humble beginnings and noble ambitions. Their request for feedback comes across as sincere. What they don’t promise, but what you kind of expect from the way it’s written, is some kind of acknowledgement when you actually post a comment.
Which brings me back to what I saw in their kitchen.
I saw a whiteboard like the one in the picture above.
Written on the whiteboard was that day’s (week’s?) Team Brief. Number one priority was to upsell bottled water to EVERY customer. Now, deep down, I know that Eat is a modern retail operation. I don’t mind at all when their staff ask “Anything else?” at the end of an order. But it wrecks the illusion of a cottage industry when the business side of things is literally in your face every time the kitchen door swings open.
I wrote as much to Niall and Faith, professing my undying love for their nosh but politely suggesting that they change the position of their whiteboard.
That was ten days ago. Long enough I figure for them to have responded if they were going to.
The other thing I read on the whiteboard was something reminding staff to “sell the mystery” or something like that. Clearly, as Eat gets bigger, they want to retain that sense of mystery. Being radically transparent with their staff briefings flies in the face of that goal. As does, in my view, proudly announcing that they have ninety outlets on their website.
Small is beautiful for many brands these days, but it’s bloody hard work when you’re trying to grow at the same time. Nonetheless, brands like Eat need to follow through on the perspiration of smallness as well as the inspiration.
UPDATE - November 10th
Just had an e-mail from Niall at Eat. It’s exactly the e-mail I’d hoped to get before writing the original post - concerned, genuine, personal, appreciative and, above all, SMALL. He also apologises for the delayed response and gives a valid reason. Faith restored. Just in time because I’m flying to London tomorrow and will be calling in for breakfast.
UPDATE 2 - November 11th
The whiteboard has gone! I’m so impressed that I’ve posted about it.
