Douglas Purdy

Broadly, I don’t like to make negative statements about organizations or people.  In my experience, most organizations and people are well-intentioned, but simply prone to mistakes and errors in judgement.  Further, I may be the one making the mistake or error.  That said, if I have a particular bad experience, it is often good for me to write about it to get the foul taste out of my mouth and _hopefully_ someone responsible can read about it and fix it.

Once upon a time a developer went to a conference called Google I/O.

The first day was great, lots for conversations with smart folks.

On the second day, the developer realized that they forgot their badge at home during the 40 minute drive to the conference.

Not to worry or turn around, the developer thought. Just like all the conferences the developer had attended before, with proper ID they will surely let him in.

Arriving at the event, the developer walked to the help desk.

Developer: “Please help. I left my badge at home and I need a new one.”

Google: “Sorry, we cannot help you, our systems do not support printing two badges.”

The developer asked for someone else, and then someone else and then someone else.  Finally, the developer got to someone that seemed like they could make something happen.

Developer: “Who do you need to hear from in order to let me in the conference? If you got an email from [unnamed Google executive] would that do it?”

Google: “You can do whatever you like, we won’t help you.”

The developer was somewhat upset at this point. Not only did the “system limitation” make no technical sense, but Google seemed to forget that the developer spent money to attend the conference, that the developer likely talked to lots of other developers; they seemed to forget that customers, particularly developers matter.

The developer knew some Google folks at the I/O, so he sent some email and made a call.

The developer got a response quickly. This Google employee was helpful (you know who you are) and told the developer what might work to get him in the conference without driving for another 80 minutes.

The developer went back in the conference with this new information. The developer talked to one person and then another and then another — finally to reach someone that really worked for Google and had the authority to make something happen.

Developer: “I talked to [unnamed, but helpful Google employee].  They told me if I showed you my confirmation letter, you may be able to let me in the conference.”

Google: “Nope. He should know better. I am going to call him.”

Google goes off to call unnamed (but helpful) Google employee.  Google can’t get in touch with unnamed (but helpful) employee, comes back and says “Left him a voice mail, but I can’t print you a badge.”

Developer: “Why not?”

Google: “Our systems cannot print out two badges.”

Developer: “Ok. Write my name on a piece of paper and put it in the holder.”

Google: “No.”

Developer: “So, I need to drive back to Silicon Valley? Really?”

Google: “I have sent people back to Holland for forgetting their badges.”

The above line was said with pride. Really. Now, the developer suspected that it was said with the sort of pride one feels when they are trying to show their power in a conversation, not with the pride of being malicious toward someone intentionally, but that is a nuance thing.

Developer: “What if [unnamed Google executive] forgot their badge?”

Google: “[unnamed Google executive] would not forget their badge.”

The developer loved this response. Google was basically calling him an idiot, which clearly he was for forgetting his badge, but more so because the developer believed that a company like Google that wanted to attract developers to their platform (or to work at their company) would never treat attendees this way.

Developer: “Ok, I see how it is going to be, but I don’t understand. What are you trying to prevent?”

Google: “It is against our policy.”

Developer: “But why?”

Google: “I can’t have our conference staff printing out badges all the time for people that forget.”

Developer (motioning to all the conference staff just sitting around): “There are lot of folks doing nothing, can’t one of them do it?”

Google: “No.”

Developer: “Is there anything we can do?”

Google: “You can call one of your friends at Google and use their badge. Or you can get someone else you know to give you their badge.”

Developer: “Really? Doesn’t that defeat the whole point of badges?”

Google: “No.”

The developer was very confused at this stage, but he was an idiot, so you would suspect that.

Developer: “Ok, I have a workaround, but it doesn’t make any sense, I really want to confirm that I can get anyone’s badge and just walk in.”

Google: “Yes, everyone is doing it.”

The developer keep wondering if this violated the policy too. That logical flaw didn’t seem to trouble Google. The developer wondered what would happen if every attendee gave their badge to a homeless person on the street during lunch time. Would Google think that was ok?

The developer shook the hand of Google. Thanked them. Walked away.

You can draw your own conclusions from this story. It is only one-side. I am sure Google would have a different take, but the developer will not be attending I/O again (save perhaps to organize that badge swap with the needy of San Francisco).

Update:

The above was a summary.  For example, I saw Scoble during these events and actually used him as an example to ensure that I understood the badge swaping process.  In addition, I accepted my defeat (although I had several offers to use others badges), went home and back (80 minutes exactly), so I could get my hands on the HTC phone.  It is a fairly interesting device.

Thanks to the Google folks that have reached out to me as a result of this post.  Reaffirms my respect for most Google employees (I have many friends that work at Google).

I fully understand why they have this policy; to ensure that I didn’t give my badge to someone else.  There are lots of ways to check for that.  Further and most importantly, you need to start from a position of trust, particularly with a paying customer, especially in the tightly nit developer community.

I moved back to the Valley this summer.  I spent most of the fall in Redmond (and in the air), however, preparing for PDC.  With the holiday’s falling after that, I am just now getting my footing working from Silicon Valley.

When I first worked here in 1999, I recall the reaction when I told people I worked for Microsoft.  It was less than ideal.  11 years later, the tone is different.  I credit Dan’l Lewin and the presence of a campus here with helping to moderate and improve the perception of Microsoft in the Valley.

Over the past month, I have begun to meet with a few technical leaders in the Valley to discuss things Microsoft and my team in particular are working on.  I don’t sense disdain, just indifference.  As a result, I believe we miss out on the opportunity to participate in many of the technical conversations that permeate the Valley.

I am committed to changing that, in my own small way.  Microsoft has both the ability and the responsibility to work with the technical community here to advance the state of the art.  I am looking forward to it…