The customer is always right
Even though customer service is much better than it used to be, ‘tenants - who needs them?’ remains the misanthropic mantra of a minority of housing staff. Presumably, they would have been happier working as traffic wardens or immigration officials.
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I was reminded of their negativity when I visited a far-flung office the other week. Upon my arrival, I noted a young male employee was eating a sandwich in the small but cosy reception area. Was he on his lunch break? I couldn’t be sure but I do know that it was several munching moments before he deigned to look up. Staring at a point somewhere over my left shoulder, he interrogated me with a single word: ‘Yes?’
Is there a more irritating reception for a customer, than this? Not, ‘Yes, can I help you?’. Or even, ‘Yes, who would you like to speak to?’. Just, ‘Yes?’ He didn’t sound as if he wanted to know the answer.
His attitude miraculously transformed though, when I showed him my identity card. ‘Oh, I didn’t realise you were from the council,’ he said, explaining perhaps more than he had intended.
Bad attitude
‘Them and us’ attitudes persist, despite our best efforts. The tenant is seen as a supplicant rather than a customer. It is hard to say where this notion comes from; perhaps some staff look down on people in social housing, while others take pleasure in exercising petty power. Often they are simply unaware of their rudeness.
Another factor, is resentment over the growing influence of tenants in housing management among certain officials. ‘Tenants have too much say in this council,’ is an all-too common complaint. Do they have a point? After all, no one would pretend that tenant participation is all plain sailing. There definitely is a downside to tenant power.
The Machiavellian machinations of our tenants’ committee would shame the Court of the Borgias. It hasn’t come to hand to hand combat, yet. But any of our officers asked to attend a tenants’ meeting on a dark winter’s night, will confirm that the tension hanging in the air between committee members can be palpable.
Often it comes down to personalities. One of the leading lights on the tenants’ committee combines the sensitivity of Vinnie Jones, with the diplomatic skills of Norman Tebbit. And that doesn’t begin to describe this man’s capacity for getting under the skin of councillors and officials.
Built like a sumo wrestler, Frank is as good as his name and famed for pinning councillors to the wall, if they are not quick enough out of his way, after meetings. He isn’t actually a physical threat - the worst that they can expect is a wagging finger - but he is articulate, sarcastic and above all, relentless. He won’t stop until the last chairs have been cleared away and the lights are being put out - and even then, he will probably follow the harassed member to the car park.
It may not even be a housing issue. Any council misdemeanour, from expenses scandals to service cuts, is fair game for Frank. Councillors and officials try to make light of this. Stories which begin with, ‘Do you remember the time when…’ abound - but nobody is laughing when they see Frank heading their way.
Getting creative
Here lies the paradox, though. Pain in the fundament though he may be, Frank is also famed for his new ideas and creative thinking. What is more, he knows what is going on in his community and he is influential there. Smarter housing officers realise that a quiet word with Frank will carry more weight than a sheaf of official, officious, letters.
Frank is not alone, because among the squabbling, sometimes-surly committee members are tenants who show real and passionate commitment to their locality. Of course, some only stay a short while and leave bored or disillusioned, but a surprising number are long-term. They digest our impenetrable policy documents, attend our training courses and scrutinise dull and detailed information about budgets and procedures. They are asked to comment on our development work, and they do so sensibly. They come out in all weathers to inspect estates.
Sometimes we try their patience. It can take the tenants’ committee years of persistent lobbying to achieve an improvement such as a much-needed play park. Instead of giving up in the face of bureaucratic inertia, the committee will usually plough on, until it wears down our resistance.
Balancing interests
Of course, the interests of the council and the tenants’ committee are not always aligned. We can’t afford to give them everything they want - or to hold rents to the level they would like. The tenants push, the council resists, and then they push some more. Maybe it isn’t like that in the best practice manuals, but this is the reality.
Crucially, the conflict doesn’t spin out of control. It involves creative tension rather than confrontation - and diplomacy wins the day. Both sides can see the advantages of tenant participation. Only the miserable minority still regard it as a threat - most councillors and officials view it as an opportunity for dialogue.
I like to think that ‘them and us’ barriers are breaking down. The benefit of a forum to communicate with tenants is beginning to be understood, even by the misanthropes. Staff like the young man whose lunch was more important that his customer are increasingly rare. Thankfully, newly recruited - especially young - housing officers seem to be immunised against tenant-phobia.
Inside Housing’s anonymous columnist is a senior housing officer


