Nuts and Bolts
Today, DLB's taxonomy of unethical designs looks at an instance where corporate penny-pinching really backfires.

Has this ever happened to you? You buy a product that requires some assembly, get it home, grab your screwdrivers or allen wrenches, open up that little bag of nuts and bolts only to find that you’re missing one? Good god, that is frustrating. Talk about a waste of everyone’s time and money.
Since this has happened to me at least a few times, I can only expect that it’s happening all the time to these companies. Now, maybe some people don’t call the company (I myself sometimes just live with it, or take it back to the mega-store I bought it at, etc.), but I bet some others do just about every day.
I’ve got two solutions to this problem, both of which illustrate the possibility that a company can save itself time and money by making decisions that are more concerned with customer satisfaction than they are with maximizing profits. I know, it’s mind-boggling. But that’s why we’re here. (Full disclosure: We haven’t really argued that the maximizing-profits mentality is fundamentally unethical. But if it turns out that it’s not, I think the point that it’s less effective is still solid.)
First option: Just dump a few extra pieces of hardware in each little bag. My guess is that the total cost to the manufacturer for the hardware on a given thing is a few pennies. Let’s say dropping a few more screws and bolts in there, then, costs them about one cent. On the other hand, that extra person manning the customer service desk probably costs them 25 or 30 thousand a year, not to mention postage on sending out that one extra stupid screw several hundred times. Even if the math doesn’t pan out, just pass the costs directly on to me. It’s always insulted my intelligence when something costs $19.99 anyway.
Finally, if you employ this option, your customers will love you, as opposed to cursing you bitterly as they drive around town looking for a 15/16″ septagonal bolt.
Second option: Make all the hardware your thing uses standard sizes. Even more incredibly insulting is when I’m missing a bolt that you I can’t buy at my neighborhood hardware store! What is that about? The only two options I can think of are (1) plain old shoddy design, or (2) some kind of mad-scientist style logic where proprietary hardware is somehow a competitive edge. Either way, it’s a clear case of FAIL.
Quick, generalize!
Assuming that you’re not actually in charge of the decisions about what hardware to include in my next IKEA bookshelf, I hope I haven’t lost your interest already, because I’m going to try to generalize this all on Wednesday.
| Tagged with: | Business, Customer service, Design Ethics, Product Design, Taxonomy of Unethical Designs |
Post a comment
Want to know more?
You're reading BlogLESS, a daily blog about the ethics of advertising, branding, design, social media and business. We are also fans of zen, although this itself is perhaps not so zen.




Comments on this post
1.
Here’s my theory: there are no missing parts, until some boob gets the kit home and loses something. Then the boob goes back to the store, and either swipes the part from another box, or demands customer service swipe a part for him. Of course, either way the box with the missing part ends up back on the shelf. The cycle then repeats to you and I, who pay the price for someone else’s problem.
I developed this theory after shopping at [insert big-box hardware chain here] one day, and discovering a cabinet kit I had returned two weeks prior. I know it was my box, because I had written “Do Not Restock - Missing Parts” in large red letters across the front and side!
2.
AJ - Thanks for getting out there and doing the science for the rest of us :/
I’m definitely going to follow your lead the next time this happens to me, and actually I think everyone should — a little bit of consumer solidarity in the face of retail store apathy might go a surprisingly long way.
Still, I’d be pretty surprised if those bags never came up a piece or two short. I’ve been sitting here for about ten minutes trying to remember ripping open the little plastic bag when I’ve come up a piece short, but my memory for details is clearly wilting under my lack of caffeine. Perhaps after the coffee brews :)
Trackbacks