It wasn't front-page business news, but Pepsi's announcement last week that it's not going to advertise in the upcoming Super Bowl has major significance. Advertising on the day of professional football's climactic moment each season has become a big deal for advertisers and consumers alike. Increasingly, going to a Super Bowl party has become as much about watching the TV ads as the game itself; everyone's chatting during the game and then there's a big hush when they break for commercials. Pepsi has traditionally been one of the top advertisers, spending nearly $150 million over the past decade.

Are they pulling their spending due to a down economy? Hardly. The marketing folks at the soft-drink division have recognized that mass advertising isn't the most effective way to promote their product anymore. While other PepsiCo brands (eg, Gatorade) will continue to spend $100,000 per second for a half-minute opportunity to impress the viewing audience, Pepsi is going in a different direction that blends online community with community projects. Rather than pour $15 million into a day's advertising on February 7, the company is asking people to submit ideas/proposals to a Web site to fund projects to "refresh" their community. The public gets to vote on which projects get funded, with grants ranging from $1,000 to a quarter million. This is a cool idea and I hope it is wildly successful.

Beyond Pepsi's effort is what it signifies: Consumers no longer want mass anything, especially marketing. We are quickly moving toward customized and personalized offerings across many goods and services, including how we market to potential customers. Pepsi is recognizing that building loyalty for its product isn't going to happen through more cute or clever advertising, but rather through efforts that speak more closely to people's values.

The lesson here for all of us is equally applicable: What are you doing in your business or practice to more strongly appeal to your target audience? Are your promotional efforts a one-shot deal screaming "Look at me!" or are you seeking ways to gain interest and awareness for your product through other, more subtle methods?

The timing of the announcement is certainly not coincidental. As we near the Christmas holiday, many of us think about giving gifts to those in our lives and giving back to those in our communities. And Pepsi's practice of "social capitalism" gets my vote as a much better way to spend marketing dollars.

May you and yours enjoy the spirit of the season. Merry Christmas and happy holidays!

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What separates a good business from a bad one? In the realm of service and customer experience, it all boils down to people. A recent trip to my alma mater, the University of Michigan, offers two encounters that illustrate what happens when people are or are not empowered to take care of customers.

In Ann Arbor, a stop at Zingerman's Delicatessen is a must for anyone who has set foot on campus in the past 25 years. It's an institution that has drawn high praise for the quality of its service as well as its food. I was digging into a steaming bowl of oatmeal when co-owner and founder Ari Weinzweig came up and commented on the origin of the oats in my oatmeal. I had no idea who this man was that approached my table as well as many others. He moved from customer to customer, greeting each like an old friend (I suspect many were). Only later did I discover who he was. His behavior embodies their mission to enrich the lives of as many people as they can.

His original deli consciously decided not to grow and franchise as they certainly could have. He and his partners decided instead to grow a "family" of businesses by adding a bakery, a creamery, a catering business and even ZingTrain, a consulting business that teaches customer service principles to others. Theirs is a remarkable story that's evolved into a large-sized $25 million a year business yet remains small enough after the past quarter century that the cashier who rung up my breakfast cheerily inquired almost an hour later, "And how did those raisins do in your oatmeal?"

Contrast that with my stay at the venerable Weber's Inn, another tradition on the Ann Arbor campus, with billboard signs on the approaching freeways touting its legacy since 1937. Comfortably settled into my room and tucked into bed, I was hearing voices that wouldn't go away as I tried to sleep. It was a radio sounding like someone left it on just loud enough to be audible. It wasn't the clock radio in my room, which I kept checking just to make sure. In need of some shuteye for an 8 a.m. meeting, I let the front desk know and they said they'd look into it. I kept hearing the radio and never heard back from the staff.

The next night yielded the same conditions. How weird, I thought, now surmising like a detective that it wasn't an inconsiderate neighboring room but something more sinister. Really in need of sleep before a 4 a.m. wake-up call, I again called the front desk. They again promised to investigate. Again, no response. Dressed and ready to depart at 4:20 a.m., I called a third time, inviting the late-night supervisor to come hear for himself.

He came up and claimed trouble hearing the sound I was hearing. (Mistake No. 1: Failure to acknowledge my concern.) I was bleary-eyed following a second night without sleep, and his response made me wonder if I was simply "hearing things." He then hemmed and hawed and said I could speak to his boss at the front desk, which I did on the way out. (Mistake No. 2: Failure to take ownership and instead "punt" the problem.) Unfortunately, the night manager spent more time tapping his keyboard and looking down at his computer screen than he did making eye contact with this tired and now grumpy guest in his hotel. (Mistake No. 3: Failure to empathize and simply ask what could be done that might help.) After what felt like endless typing and viewing of his computer monitor, he printed the receipt and proudly noted the 20% discount applied to my bill.

Now I was livid. I told him that if this hotel was my business and I observed a near total failure of providing the most basic service of a good night's rest, I would refuse to let the customer pay. He didn't get it. Instead, he referred me to his boss, who would be in next week. (See Mistake No. 2 above.) I left, caring nothing about the discount and focusing a lot on how I felt. I was near the intersection of frustration and fatigue, a world apart from the glee, near-giddiness and happiness I had at the deli less than a day earlier.

It is indeed the people who make or break the experience for the customer. Oatmeal can be had nearly anywhere; hotel rooms are practically everywhere. Yet it was the encounters with staff that will have me returning again and again to Zingerman's and never to Weber's Inn. Both claim to be campus traditions — but while one seeks to continually improve over time, the other remains stuck in time, offering a response that might have been acceptable circa 1975. The hotel staff was polite, did investigate and did offer something. But as expectations evolve in today's service-dominated economy, it's the front-line workers who need to be able to make decisions to satisfy customer requests and recover from service defects. Those billboards for Weber's Inn tout how great the hotel is (raising expectations, by the way) yet they failed to deliver. Zingerman's advertising is fully handled by its customers, also setting a high bar to meet expectations, but the humble deli has the culture and systems to support it.

These polar experiences should cause you to think about three things:

1. How do you set expectations for what people experience in your medical practice or business?

2. What are your employees allowed and encouraged to do to meet or exceed customer needs?

3. How do you respond when something goes wrong? And what about when something goes so well that customers comment?

Ultimately, it's the daily decisions and behaviors that will drive your legacy and "tradition" in your community. Given how easy it is these days to spread the word — positive or negative — the need to intentionally strive for superior service and experience has never been greater.

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As is our civic duty, today was my turn for jury duty. Most of us, myself included, dread this annual event. But once you arrive and start to observe the wheels of justice turning, things can get interesting.

It often helps to keep an open mind in life, and today is another reminder of that principle. Sitting in the jury "waiting room" (a term I hope to abolish in medical practices), I was struck by the way the clerk made announcements to the hundred or so of us called in this day. She could have spoken with that robotic-like voice we've come to expect when dealing with government agencies and bureaucracy. Instead, she handled the microphone as if she were performing on stage.

I was indeed attentive as she alternated between schoolmarm and comedian. She was engaging as well as funny. At the break, I went up and thanked her for being part of the A-Team (my nickname for anyone I come across who "gets it" when it comes to customer service). I learned her name (Vicki), filled out the survey to commend her and asked to meet her supervisor, Zakiya Hooker-Bell. When I shared how different this day felt, Zakiya exclaimed, "We are all like that. I tell the employees here that we are performers each and every day we come to work."

Wow! I shared with her the subtitle of The Experience Economy, "Work is theater and every business a stage." She just smiled and said, "You're right. And there's no dress rehearsal. You gotta be ready!"

With an interesting last name, turns out Zakiya Hooker-Bell is the daughter of blues legend John Lee Hooker. She's a blues artist by night and jury manager by day. Clearly, she brings her "stage" with her wherever she goes.

So, what about your place of work: Is it a stage? Do you and your fellow employees view yourselves as performers? In the shift away from simple delivery of services toward staging of experiences, this distinction becomes ever critical. I can tell you that today I was treated much more like a human being and much less like juror #103801678.

If this one component of our justice system can assume this role, so can you and your practice or business. By putting a bit of effort into enhancing the welcoming ritual — even for something as mundane as jury duty — the time went by a lot faster and wasn't what I had dreaded. This is precisely the reaction you want to create in those patients coming to your medical facility each day!

In fact, Zakiya views her role as jury manager as if she is running a business: "It's all about customer service!" And that mindset made my jury duty experience unique and memorable. It only lasted a couple of hours, as I wasn't selected to go to a courtroom. In a way, it was sad to say goodbye.

This, indeed, is the power of experience.

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