John Guaspari
EXCLUSIVE ONLINE COLUMNIST

What follows is, as the headline on this column suggests, a bit of a rant. So before getting into the guts of the matter, a few words of background would seem to be in order.

I am what could fairly be called a "reasonably literate" user of personal computers. By this I mean that I spend a good deal of my workday at the keyboard, employing this or that application with a fair degree of facility. When problems arise, I am not immediately thrown into a swivet. If they're basic enough, I may be able to troubleshoot them myself. But I also know enough to know what I don't know, and I am not intimidated by the prospect of talking to someone in a technical support function who is just an 800-number call away. (Actually getting to such a person, a feat that generally involves listening to lengthy, pseudo-symphonic versions of Tony Orlando & Dawn music intercut with prerecorded messages assuring me that my call is, in fact, "very important to us," is another matter.)

Further, I am not in any sense a technophobe; both my undergraduate and graduate degrees are in aeronautical engineering. (In the interest of full disclosure, I should acknowledge that it has been a full quarter century since I ceased to be an aeronautical engineer, a fact for which the American flying public should be--trust me on this--most grateful.) 

I mention all of this as a preemptive measure against what would otherwise be a pretty predictable reaction--"This guy wouldn't know a megabyte if it megabit him"--to the rant that follows. (Although, again in the interest of full disclosure, I must concede that my favorite type of computer software is the screen saver, since the entire contents of the user's manual for a screen saver are essentially this: "Do nothing.")

As it is, I feel that I am justified in complaining about my highly frustrating and--here's my real point--all too common experience, the relevant facts of which are these:

I purchased a piece of software for my personal computer. The software is intended to do useful work that falls under the general heading of "utilities." The installation process was anything but smooth and easy; it took approximately two and one-half hours. There was no manual--that is, no physical manual. The manual was bundled onto the CD-ROM. But if you can't install the software in the first place .

Once my new utilities software was "successfully" installed, I began experiencing other problems with my computer. Applications whose operation had previously been smooth as silk began to behave in quirky ways. Others remained silky--until they caused my system to seize up entirely.

One ironic offshoot of the installation of my new application was that it denied me access to the Internet, without which I could not attach the piece you're now reading to an e-mail message to the folks at Quality Digest, which in turn means I would have had to resort to fax or--shudder--postal mail in order for you to be reading these words.

For two full days, problems of one sort or another kept cropping up with my system. The people at the utilities software publisher helped me with what they could, by which I mean they suggested that I call the publishers of the applications that were now behaving in either quirky or seizure-inducing ways. These folks, in turn, suggested that I call the manufacturer of my system, since they thought that what I had was a hardware problem.

Total time spent addressing these various issues directly: 12.5 hours. Total elapsed time, i.e., the time during which I could not rely on my system: 5 working (which is to say "nonworking") days.

Eventually, of course, I solved the problem. I uninstalled the new software. Now everything works fine again. Which brings me to what will hereinafter be known as "Guaspari's First Law of Software Purchases": Any new piece of computer software will cause far more problems than it was ever intended to solve, and dealing with those problems will occupy many more hours of your time than you might ever have hoped to save with the software.

Which brings me in turn to Guaspari's Second Law of Software Purchases: When considering the purchase of a new piece of software: Don't.

I know, I know. The first impulse is to think "User Failure" (or, as a colleague of mine at an electronic equipment company I once worked at so charmingly put it in describing the most common problem category faced by our customer service department, "the nut behind the wheel"). This is, of course, why I went to such great lengths to spell out my technical "credentials," such as they are, at the beginning of this column.

But there is a serious, quality-related question underlying a lot of the flippancy in the preceding paragraphs, and it is this: Why is it that the software industry is the only industry that still insists on pushing "final inspection" out onto the customer? Haven't we long since passed the point where that ceased to be a viable strategy?

I know the rejoinder: "Technology is moving at such a rapid pace that, as we come up with applications to take advantage of its potential, a certain number of mistakes will inevitably happen." But isn't that precisely 180 degrees out of phase with all of the received wisdom about quality?

If you're waiting for an answer from me, you'll be disappointed. I don't have one. This is a thorny, nontrivial problem, so instead of an answer, I can offer only a plaintive cry: Why must it be thus?

After all, there's a lot money to be made by anyone who can crack this code. I am only half-kidding when I say that this is a new software sales pitch that I would find very persuasive:

"This software is guaranteed not to disrupt anything you already have in place on your computer. After its installation, your system will behave exactly as it did before. Of course, this application doesn't actually do anything in particular. But given Guaspari's First Law of Software Purchases, that means that you will, net, come out ahead."

So the questions remain:

* Why do software publishers do this to us?

* Why do we let them?

I'd like to hear your answers. But please be gentle. Remember, I freely admit to being just "reasonably literate" when it comes to computers, and I freely categorize the preceding paragraphs as more rant than reason.

About the author

John Guaspari is president of Guaspari & Salz Inc., a Concord, Massachusetts-based management consulting firm. The books he has written include I Know It When I See It and The Customer Connection.