Don't Make Me Lie to You
Posted by Jeffrey Henning on Sun, Nov 14, 2010
Today's post is by Siobhan Miller, one of our senior product managers.
As a patriotic American who probably stimulates the economy a little more than any student in Accounting 101 would tell you she should, I’m often asked for my opinion by retailers, non-profits and market researchers who sense they have a “live one.” That request is always conveyed in survey form. Now, I talk to Vovici clients every day who want to get the most accurate information from their own customers as possible. When I take a survey, I feel a moral and personal obligation to answer every question to the best of my ability because I know how important this data can be to the person on the other end. So I feel I must beg all the survey authors out there: don’t make me lie to you.
Case in point: two weeks ago I received a survey from a charity that I support. I was excited to take it—the topic indicated that the group had identified a problem with a program that was glaringly obvious to supporters, and I was eager to share where I felt it should focus its efforts. It started off well, lots of comments like “great question!” and “yes, that’s important” and “no, don’t worry about it.” And then I was confronted with my dilemma: a four-point scale, requiring an answer, about a step in the program I would not experience for at least another six months. There was no escape—no neutral option, no “N/A”, no “Other, please specify.” I couldn’t go forward without answering.
I considered abandoning the survey—but what if the analysis only included completed responses? My opinion wouldn’t make the cut. Maybe it was all the adrenaline, the sweaty palms, the desire to not make the charity think I was so cold-hearted as to not respond to its important survey—but at some point, rationalization kicked in. “Surely, there will be a chance to enter a verbatim response, no matter how small the character limit. You can clarify any issues there.” I took a deep breath, focused on the radio button to the left of “Slightly disagree” and satisficed my way to the next page…which thanked me for my time. GAH!
Now, I recognize it’s only one data point and perhaps I’m slightly overplaying the guilt experienced (but only slightly—and that’s a whole different post on a whole different blog). However, a simple way to extract myself from that situation—via a verbatim, non-required question, or “N/A”—would have given the charity a more accurate response and a more willing participant for its future surveys. Because at the end of the day, I want my online survey relationships to be built on a solid foundation of truth. Honest.
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