The Library.

In the middle of a recent heatwave, I went out for lunch with my wife and two friends. As is the normal sequence in a restaurant, the waiter first took our drinks order before returning to take our food choices. I ordered my usual Diet Coke, and one of our friends asked for a lemonade. My wife and our other friend were happy with tap water. On such a hot day, they wanted to rehydrate properly.

A chef doesn’t walk into the kitchen and start guessing. They have a recipe—tried, tested, and reliably satisfying. The same should be true for customer experience. But here’s the thing: most businesses focus only on the main course (their product). They forget the ambiance, the service pacing, and the little amuse-bouche that makes you say, “Wow.” After years of studying what actually makes people happy—from holidaymakers to restaurant-goers to B2B buyers—we’ve landed on a s

A few years ago, we conducted a customer satisfaction study for a large supplier of food raw materials. As part of their annual cycle, the company would meet with clients to negotiate contracts and pricing for the year ahead. These were routine, structured conversations—until one piece of feedback stood out.

The days of the department store are drawing to a close. While great reminders of such retail establishments still exist—and big names like Harrods are known throughout the world—it’s interesting to remember that every city and town once had its own department stores back in the 1930s. I was brought up in Bradford, at one time a prosperous city built on the woolen trade. The city boasted two large department stores: Brown Muffs and Busbys’. Busbys’ holds a special place in my

Ask 100 people what makes a great customer experience and you’ll hear the usual answers. Responsiveness will be near the top. Fast replies, quick delivery, no friction. We live in a time-starved world—waiting is no longer acceptable. Then there’s the product. It has to be genuinely good—innovative, well-designed, high quality. The kind of thing customers talk about.

In the 1970s and 1980s, anyone driving Britain’s motorways could not fail to notice the growing fleet of immaculate green and red lorries bearing the name Eddie Stobart. Each truck gleamed. Every driver looked the part, dressed in shirt and tie. The company’s expansion was visible in real time: with every journey, there seemed to be more of these distinctive vehicles on the road, each one proudly carrying a woman’s name across its cab.

The other day I chanced upon a YouTube podcast in which Craig Wilkinson, a champion of tradespeople, was interviewing Charlie Mullins. Charlie Mullins is best known for his origins as a plumber based in London and who built a plumbing enterprise called Pimlico Plumbers. It is no easy task to recruit good-quality tradespeople and knit them into a successful business.

Everything was going fine with my new computer—until it wasn’t. The installer was very chatty, and on reflection, we spent a good hour talking about cars and his business rather than focusing on the new device.