Customer Service Is Not a Department

Editorial Note
This essay is part of the Cultivated canon — a body of work exploring how value is created through systems, behaviour, and design. It reflects a recurring theme in this library: that customer experience is never accidental — it is the visible outcome of how work is structured, and the role people play within the business.

Customer Service Is Not a Department

No matter your role or industry, you are in customer service.

Customer service is no longer a function tucked away in a department. It is the most visible expression of how an organisation thinks, decides, and works. In that sense, it has quietly replaced marketing. People remember how they were treated far longer than what they were promised.

And yet, service is often poor.

Not because people don’t care — but because the system makes caring difficult.

Over time, I’ve noticed a pattern. When service fails, it is rarely due to a single bad interaction. It shows up in small, consistent signals: friction, delay, indifference, confusion. These are not frontline failures. They are design failures.

Customer experience mirrors employee experience. It reflects management quality. It exposes product and process decisions that were made far from the customer, often with good intentions.

Good service begins long before a customer ever needs help.

It starts with who you hire — not just for technical competence, but for judgment, taste and care. People who want to do good work need to be supported by managers and leaders who make that possible, not undermined by poor systems.

It also starts with the product itself. Every unnecessary support call is often a design signal. When something is unclear, brittle, or awkward to use, customers pay the price. Fixing root causes — rather than managing demand — reduces frustration on both sides. Well-designed products quietly eliminate work.

Seeing service through the customer’s eyes is essential. Following a request end to end reveals where time is lost, where information breaks down, and where effort adds no value. These journeys tell the truth in a way reports rarely do.

Front-line autonomy matters too. Scripts, slogans, and banners cannot replace judgment. People closest to the customer need the authority to solve problems, not just escalate them. Care cannot be centralised.

Creativity beats expense. Better service rarely requires more tools or technology. It usually requires clearer processes, fewer handovers, and space for people to think. Money is often spent compensating for friction rather than removing it.

Cooperation across teams is another quiet lever. When goals are shared, problems stop bouncing between functions. Recurring issues are solved once, rather than endlessly managed. Alignment reduces effort.

And finally, time matters. Rushed service communicates indifference. Allowing people the time to listen, understand, and resolve issues is not inefficiency — it is respect.

One of the most useful provocations I’ve encountered comes from Selling the Invisible by Harry Beckwith. Beckwith suggests a simple discipline:

"Assume your service is bad. It won't hurt you but it will force you to improve it"

Not out of cynicism — but humility.

It sharpens attention. It invites improvement. It prevents complacency.

Customer service is not a department. It is a system.

When leaders focus on hiring well, designing better products, removing friction, and empowering people, service improves naturally. Not as a programme. Not as a campaign.

But as a consequence of building better work.

That is where care becomes visible.
And where value quietly accumulates.