A Tale of the Refund Blues

Is it just me, or has it really become increasingly difficult to get a refund on products ever since the economy took a nosedive?

Case in point: PDA manufacturer Handspring Inc.

Three years ago, while still working for O'Reilly, I purchased PDA's for the whole PR department. At the time, Handspring was an up-and-coming, pre-IPO company that had only two products in its lineup: the plain black Visor, and the more jazzy blue, white, red, or teal Visor Deluxe. Handspring was competing against the established Palm Inc., a pioneer and proven force in the still-young handheld computer market, and seemed hungry and promising.

Due to that and the better price that Handspring offered, I opted to go with them. And I was not disappointed. Ordering on their site was child's play, confirmation was prompt, and to my utter astonishment, shipping was so lightning-fast, that I had the product in my hand the very next day. Installation of their cradle and software was a snap too, and before I knew it, I came to utterly rely on my PDA to remind me of meetings, birthdays, and important phone numbers. I evangelized this new and nifty device (and the company that had supplied it so reliably) to my many business contacts, as well as to friends and family, so enthusiastically, that many of them decided to go out and buy from Handspring. One friend even took a job with them and moved to the South Bay.

About a year into usage, I accidentially dropped my beloved PDA from about 4 feet onto a thick carpet. The window cracked, and the unit became unusable. Distressed, I called Handspring Customer Support, and they agreed to replace it for a nominal fee in the most professional and friendly manner. I had my replacement the very next day.

Fast forward three years - the tech bubble had burst, Bush had managed to tear down the economy to its bare bones, unemployment was at an all-time high, and businesses were scrambling to stay alive.

Again, I was faced with the task of buying a PDA, this time for my own business. Yet now the PDA landscape looked vastly different. Everybody had gotten into the game, wanting a piece of the multi-million dollar cake the PDA market had grown into - Microsoft, Sony, NEC, Casio, HP, Compaq, even Apple. Palm was still going strong too, and a post-IPO Handspring had become a sizable player.

Although the thought of having a color screen, a digital camera attachment, rechargable battery capabilities and even internet access was admittedly tempting, I knew all I really needed was an organizer that would keep my schedule and phone numbers handy. Besides, 400 bucks were more than I wanted to spend. So, among the dyzzing amount of choices, I opted to go with what I knew and already had had a good experience with: a Handspring.

I bought the blue reconditioned Visor Deluxe off Handspring's website on February 12, 2003, complete with slim leather clamshell case, for $125. Touted as distinguishing itself from a brandnew unit only by the possibility of having a couple of scratches or nicks (which I didn't care about), I had no doubt that although used, the PDA would hold up to the quality standards of the past. I was wrong.

First, it took over a week for the unit to arrive at my doorstep via UPS. Gone seemed the days of lightning-fast deliveries. Second, installation of the software and cradle were a pain. The software crashed on me numerous times before I could even start to connect it to the cradle. Curiously too, I was unable to uninstall it from my XP machine, and was given a "Unable to complete uninstall" message every time. So I fiddled with it for a while until it seemed it was going to behave. I hooked up the cradle, plugged in the PDA, hit the hotsync button - nothing. Seemed the cradle and computer weren't talking the same language.

Again - hours of downloading updates and troubleshooting later, it finally seemed to work. Yet over the course of the next 2 1/2 months, the connection worked only on a random pattern, and I came to resists hotsyncing my PDA for the amount of time it would take to make it work.

Then, on May 5th, after less than 3 months of ownership, the PDA died on me. It didn't react to the power button anymore. Of course I immediately went through a bunch of resuscitation exercises to revive it again. New batteries. Soft reset. Hard reset. System reset. Power down reset. In a glimmer of false hope, the screen sprung to life again, but only to display a solid black screen that slowly and blotchily faded into an empty screen, with random vertical black lines. Another system reset later, the PDA even refused to give me that little bit. It was positively and completely dead.

I checked my warranty card, and indeed, the device was still under its 90 day warranty. So I called Handspring Tech Support, thinking that they would swifly and kindly assist me. Yet before I could even state my name, I was informed that this call would cost me $19.95. "No, no," I replied, "I'm still under the 90 day warranty that gives me free telephone support."
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but that service has been discontinued."
"What??? When?"
"Yesterday."

The rep eventually referred me to email support. Unhappy, but not yet disenchanted, I wrote them an email, detailing my trouble with the unit, and requesting a refund.

They wrote back, saying, sorry, but no refunds. We'll repair it, all right, but no way are we giving your money back. It's company policy.

Policy, schmolicy. Did they honestly expect me to trust into another one of their products, after it had croaked no less than 3 months into its use? I wrote back, insisting on a refund. Their answer was again, sorry, no way. But you can call our customer service at 1-888-565-9393 and take it up with them.

So I did. The rep wasn't pleased with my refund request, and while transferring me to a manager, "accidentially disconnected" me. I instantly called back. After a lengthy discussion with yet another rep, who in no uncertain terms suggested that I couldn't really expect more than 3 months of usage out of a reconditioned Visor anyway (what??), I finally got to talk to Russ, the floor manager. At this point, I was pissed.

Yet Russ was even less accomodating, insisting that it was "company policy" to give no refunds, and saying that they could not guarantee me that the next unit wouldn't die on me again within a short period of time. And after 90 days, I would be on my own anyway, or having to pay for a repair. If I would be willing to go ahead and buy another unit right now though, he might be able to do a refund. Yeah, right.

I demanded to talk to his superior, and he gave me the number for the "Corporate Office".

No real person seemed to live at the "Corporate Office". An automated message prompted me to leave my name, phone and case number, assuring me that they would call back within 24 hours. Of course they didn't. Rather it took them two days to finally call me back. Little did they know that I had no room left for negotiation.

The rep tried to first smooth-talk me into a repair. "No", I said. Then he asserted himself with a firm voice, telling me that there really was no other option but a repair. Or I could just let go of the matter, and buy elsewhere.
"No", I said. "Let me talk to your manager."
"There is no one."
"You have no manager?"
"No. This is the end of the line."

I told him I still wanted a refund. He said no. I told him that it really was a matter of just how much bad PR he wanted to get out of this. A long minute of silence filled the airwaves. Finally, in a barely audible voice, he said: "Let me check something." I waited. After another minute or so, he whispered, "Ok, what's the credit card number you made the purchase with?"
"You're giving me a refund?"
"Please just confirm your address and phone number for me so I can get a return number assigned."
"When will I get my refund?"
"About 2 weeks after we receive the product back."
"Fine. Now that wasn't so hard, was it?"

So today, there's a little package on its way to the Handspring Repair Center, bearing my PDA and its leather case. Yet Handspring has lost more than just one loyal customer - it has lost a legion of potential customers. For from here on out I will recommend to everybody I know and everybody I meet (and everybody who reads this article) that they'd consider buying from Palm. Or Compaq. Or whoever else. Just not Handspring.

With every product (especially electronic devices), I buy not only the physical hardware, but also a warranty. And customer service. Companies should realize, that good service is part, if not half, of the sale. It doesn't matter that they invest their company's resources into a huge sales force or a tricked-out e-commerce website - if they don't invest in proper customer care, in the end that's what really matters to the customer. There will be no repeat sales if that part of the bargain isn't held up.

And in this marketplace of such fierce competition for customer buying power, can they really afford not to honor such a simple thing as a $125 refund for defective merchandise?