Temple Hopping

Where’s the Buddha?

“That’s your problem. I don’t care!”

How’s that for customer service? I had just missed the only train out of Copenhagen that night due to incorrect platform information displayed on the station monitors, this after sitting around all afternoon on dirty train station floors watching in fascination as people got their baggage stolen right out from under their noses. The trip of a lifetime was quickly becoming a nightmare. When I voiced my frustration to the woman behind the ticket counter as I tried to book another train, she actually yelled those words at me. I couldn’t believe it. Where’s the Buddha when you need him? That he was nowhere near Copenhagen Central Station is no surprise, but the incident did get me thinking about the role Buddhism as a cultural background plays in customer service in East Asia, where I have been living, working, and traveling extensively for the past year.

In that time, I have found that East Asian nations still holding predominantly Buddhist values retain esteem for gracious servitude that translates directly into exemplary customer service. Japan, with its customary bowing, or ojigi, and Korea, with its edification of the mundane, both provide consistently excellent customer service, while oft neglected Mongolia takes servitude to a higher plane, providing customer service that feels almost like adoration. Conversely, 60 years of enforced secularism has rendered China all but devoid of Buddhist values, and its customer service is consistently poor.

Before going any further, I should define some terms. First, I am using customer service very broadly, basically including any touchpoint in the customer lifecycle, as well as other metrics such as customer satisfaction and anything having to do with quality. I like customer service because it speaks simultaneously to an attitude toward others and an attitude toward your own work. In my mind, customer service always comes back to respect and discipline, both of which are key tenets of Buddhism.

Respect is defined as esteem for the worth of another person, and in Buddhism this respect is applied to all persons, regardless of station or title. The Buddha is often quoted as saying, “You should respect each other and refrain from disputes; you should not, like water and oil, repel each other, but should, like milk and water, mingle together.” This is the heart of good customer relations, but customer service requires something more. Excellent customer service requires discipline, a regimen that continuously improves your delivery of a product or service.

Discipline, as a noun, ultimately comes to us from the Latin discipulus, meaning disciple, pupil, or follower; thus discipline is all about following:

following orders
following the rules
following your conscience
following your heart
following through

Discipline may be externally imposed by law, policy, or even the rules-based behavior of a point-of-sale computer system, yet the discipline required for excellent customer service must come from within as well. Consider the discipline of a musician who practices for hours each day simply for the joy of improved technique, the amateur athlete who trains for the sake of better physical fitness, or the Buddhist who sits in daily meditation to meet the world with greater mindfulness. This is the kind of self-discipline required for providing excellent customer service.

Our perception of customer service is, unfortunately, often heightened when we are confronted with a lack of respect or discipline, so it is important to name those as well. A lack of respect is felt as inconsiderate by the customer. A lack of discipline, whether in a system or personnel, will be seen as unruly. At bottom, things simply have to work. A poorly functioning system cannot provide good customer service, no matter how respectful your personnel might be.

Now let’s remind ourselves of some tenets specific to Buddhism, the paramitas or transcendental perfections:

generosity:	Dāna pāramitā
discipline:	Śīla pāramitā
patience:	Kṣānti pāramitā
diligence:	Vīrya pāramitā
focus:	Dhyāna pāramitā
wisdom:	Prajñā pāramitā
skill:	Upāya pāramitā
determination:	Praṇidhāna pāramitā
spiritual power:	Bala pāramitā
knowledge:	Jñāna pāramitā

With the possible exception of spiritual power (Bala pāramitā), every one of these attributes is essential to customer service. Realize these perfections in your everyday life and you cannot help but offer excellent customer service, regardless of the field or position in which you work.

Where the Buddha resides in East Asia

It’s difficult to quantitatively state just how prevalent Buddhism is in Japan today. Birth records indicate that a majority of Japanese citizens are Buddhist, but that’s because births are often associated with a Buddhist temple. When asked, most Japanese claim no religious affiliation; however, that does not mean they are without Buddhist values. Kaori, a Japanese teacher that I know in Taiwan says, “Most Japanese people still have Buddhism in their minds.” Kie, a Japanese national teaching college in China, explains that old persons believe in Buddhism, while young persons do not. At the same time, Kie’s own family represents the syncretic melding of Buddhism and Shinto known as Shinbutsu shūgō: her maternal grandmother’s older sister still practices Jodo Buddhism; her father’s ancestry is Shinto. She says, “Old persons know both Buddhism and Shinto; young persons make no distinction.” They have not, however, forgotten many of the values and forms that were bestowed upon them through Buddhism, the most obvious of which is bowing, or ojigi, the habitual sign of gratitude, courtesy, and respect. Of even greater importance to customer service is their work ethic. As Kaori points out, when Japanese workers promise something, they really try to accomplish it, and they feel ashamed if they cannot succeed, accepting personal responsibility for the outcome and considering failure to be their own fault. By way of contrast, she says, “In China, they just give up and say it’s too difficult.”

Korean Buddhism also has a history of integration with its shamanistic predecessor and has, in recent decades, often clashed with the rising popularity of Christianity. Bowing is still an extremely important ritual, but more important to customer service is an emphasis on the mundane, in which enlightenment is sought through careful attention to the seemingly insignificant details of everyday life, always benefiting oneself by benefiting one’s fellows.

China is another story entirely. Shortly after I arrived to teach at a college in the Shaanxi Province of central China, I was walking atop the historic Xi’an City Wall with a Chinese English major who told me, “You won’t find any Buddhists here.” Then, at a banquet a few days later, one of his professors said, “Every Chinese person is a semi-Buddhist.” I wondered about this seeming paradox for some time but have come to realize that both the student and his professor are correct; however, the situation in China is quite unlike the Buddhist cultural background that is prevalent in Japan and South Korea. Here, it is more like a Buddhist cultural shadow that is occasionally seen from certain angles in spite of the light shined on secular Communism, which has been so forcefully imposed for the past 64 years. An example can be seen in the Communist Party’s recent efforts to restore, rebuild, or even reestablish Buddhist temples as tourist attractions. Some, such as Famen Temple near Xi’an, the birthplace of Chan Buddhism—which became Zen in Japan and crossed the Pacific to become America’s first popular introduction to Buddhism—have been lavishly renovated, but nowhere have I felt less reverence for the Buddha and his teachings. As if at some Disneyesque Buddhaland, ticket sales and obnoxious vendors hawking Buddhist trappings assault the pilgrim, thoroughly squelching any attempt at contemplation. And the throngs of Chinese tourists do not help—shoving and jostling their way toward each icon in order to take pictures of themselves. After a long morning at Longmen Grottoes, the site of thousands and thousands of statues of the Buddha and his disciples, many of them defaced—literally de-faced—I sat on a bench to write in my journal:

In Korea,

they bow before the Buddha.

In Japan,

they love to touch his hand.

In China,

he’s a photo op.

As we shall see, customer service in China is as dismal as the preservation of Buddhist values, and I would suggest that the Chinese must rediscover Buddhist values if they are to succeed in serving the world customer. The past six decades of enforced secularism have completely ground out any semblance of customer service.

This brings us to Mongolia, the vast yet usually forgotten land of steppes and forest completely surrounded by China to the south and Russia to the north. Here, in spite of decades of Communist prohibition, Tibetan Buddhism has survived as the predominant religion, and its influence is as palpable as it is understated. An inquiring visitor to Mongolia is not likely to be directed to some state-run temple, but will instead be led to a site such as 100 Lamas Cave. Your guide will personally help you climb steep rocks to the mouth of the cave, then take you deep into its recesses to proudly relate the story of how 100 Buddhist lamas once hid here, eluding capture and purging by Soviet invaders for months. My brief experience spelunking in 100 Lamas Cave has, in retrospect, become a metaphor for Mongolia itself, a nation that successfully hides Buddhism (and Buddhists) from the surrounding secular regimes. Only the intrepid visitor is blessed with the honor and grace of Mongolian customer service.

Evaluating customer service in East Asia

In 2010, logistics giant DHL commissioned a customer service study by the Economist Intelligence Unit of The Economist. The report looks at a number of customer service metrics in ten Asian countries, including Japan, South Korea, and China. In keeping with tradition, the report ignores Mongolia; still its findings are useful here. Of the Asian countries included in the study, Japan is ranked number one, followed closely by South Korea, while China is dead last at tenth out of the ten nations surveyed. The report summarizes its finding this way:

Customer service in Japan is rated the best in Asia. This is testament to the country’s long tradition of putting the customer first, which is ingrained in most Japanese service staff.

The report supports my own observations working and traveling in the region. Perhaps my experience is best told as “A Tale of Two Airlines.” When I flew into China last year, I decided to try Air China. I was in Southern California when I booked the travel from Osaka, Japan to Xi’an, and since one of my errands took me near Los Angeles International Airport, I decided to simply go to Air China’s ticket counter to purchase the ticket. When I got to LAX, I was curtly informed that Air China does not maintain a ticket counter there; all travel must be booked on the web. After an hour or so of frustration navigating Air China’s website, I had my flights booked. I say “flights” because flying the relatively short distance from Osaka to Xi’an required stops in Shanghai and Beijing. I had heard about circuitous routes in China, but that seemed a bit outrageous, as did the price: $1,280 for a one-way ticket booked six weeks ahead of time. When I finally flew, after three glorious weeks traveling in Japan, I was not particularly surprised to see an aging Airbus in need of paint at the end of our jetway, but I was surprised to see that the interior looked as shabby as the exterior, and it only got worse from there. After a most unfriendly welcome by Chinese Immigration and Customs at Shanghai-Pudong Airport, I boarded a 737 that was downright unkempt. There was trash in the seat pocket; the video monitor in front of me continually cycled up and down, and never did display the required safety video. The flight attendants never spoke to me, and I got the definite impression I would be sorry if they had to. The food was forgettable. Transfer in Beijing required another long walk all the way down the terminal to have my ticket checked by a woman talking on her mobile who clearly had better things to do than work with me. Finally, after a flight that was flown entirely at fuel-guzzling low altitudes, I arrived in Xi’an, where I immediately encountered what may be the filthiest restroom in the northern hemisphere. Welcome to China, I thought, vowing to fly anybody but Air China next time.

For Winter Break, six months later, I decided to go scuba diving in Bali. Checking Expedia.com for flights, I settled on Korean Air, which offered roundtrip tickets to Denpasar for $800—less than two-thirds what it had cost to fly one-way from Osaka to Xi’an on Air China. I booked the travel on Korean Air’s website, and was so delighted with the ease of navigation that by the time I was done I not only had my tickets, but I was also a member of their SKYPASS rewards program. Clearly, this company had a long-term relationship in mind, and it only got better from there. Korean Air’s boarding area in Xi’an is clean, quiet, and comfortably appointed. The restroom is spotless and smells only of cleaning products. The plane sitting at our gate was a brand new Boeing 737 sporting Korean Air’s new livery. Classily clad flight attendants bowed and cheerfully delivered the airline’s “Morning Calm” atmosphere, gracefully switching between Chinese, Korean, and English as each passenger required; and the pilot logged one of the smoothest flights I’ve ever enjoyed in nearly fifty years of air travel. What’s more, the food was exceptional: cod with a creamy white sauce, piping hot dinner rolls with New Zealand butter, cherry cheesecake ice cream for dessert, and onigiri for a late-night snack. I thought this surely must be heaven, but the captain said we were only at 38,000 feet.

Obviously, I enjoyed a much better customer experience on Korean Air than I had on Air China, and I am not alone. According to FindTheBest.com, a website that allows side-by-side comparison of customer satisfaction ratings, Air China has a User Rating of 2.3, where Korean Air’s User Rating is 3.1, a significant difference in customer perception. Furthermore, AirlineTrends.com ranked Korean Air as the most innovative air carrier in 2012, based on the low seat-density of its aircraft and amenities such as the women-only lounge at Seoul-Incheon Airport. Well, you might say, that’s just two airlines; one can hardly extrapolate these findings to the nations in which they are based. True, but when you then consider the airports at which these carriers maintain their hubs, the picture becomes clearer: China Daily recently reported that Beijing and Shanghai airports have the worst flight delays of the 35 major international airports on Earth, with 82% and 71% of all flights delayed, respectively. Seoul-Incheon Airport, on the other hand, has been voted Best Airport in the World by AirportAwards.com for the past seven years, and boasts an average flight delay of -0.75 minutes, according to MakeMyTrip.com. In other words, your flight into Seoul-Incheon will most likely arrive early—not late!

As I said before, it all comes down to respect and discipline. Flight delays are an objective and quantifiable metric that demonstrate significant differences in both respect and discipline in the skies above China and South Korea. User ratings are subjective and less precise, yet still show distinct differences in perceived respect and discipline between Air China and Korean Air, and I can tell you that my own travel experience is consistently one of inconsiderate and unruly behavior throughout China versus the utmost in respect and discipline in South Korea.

Is There a Buddha in the Background?

Reflecting on the differences found in customer service throughout East Asia, and even around the world, I have come up with a graphic, below, in which I plot consistency of customer service on two axes—respect and discipline. The points have no numeric data behind them, and I claim no objective basis; however, I do believe my ratings are supported by all of the information given above. The graphic intends to show consistency of customer service based on respect and discipline found in each country. In Japan, I have consistently encountered the best customer service—that is, the most respect and discipline found anywhere; whereas, in China I have consistently encountered the worst. South Korea and Mongolia both consistently offer excellent customer service, with South Korea tending toward a bit more discipline, and Mongolia offering a bit more respect toward the customer. That Japan, South Korea, and Mongolia are all still strongly Buddhist in nature is no surprise to me; whereas, Buddhist values in China have been all but obliterated by its secular regime. I offer my personal ratings of Russia and the United States in order to show what I consider to be inconsistent customer service in secular countries of a predominantly Christian cultural background, where Russia tends to show better discipline (even if it’s externally imposed) and the U.S. tends to offer greater respect toward its customers.

Many will argue that a cultural background of Buddhism has nothing to do with superior customer service. In fact, Kaori, the teacher in Taiwan who told me that most Japanese people still have Buddhism in their minds, believes superior customer service is purely a matter of economics, saying, “Good customer service simply offers a competitive advantage.” Researchers at The Economist would no doubt agree with her, but when they conclude that Japan’s superior customer service is due to “the country’s long tradition of putting the customer first,” I have to wonder what it is in Japanese culture that underlies this “long tradition.” For me, the correlation between Buddhism and customer service is too strongly positive to ignore.

Finally, I want to be clear that I am not simply China-bashing here. Poor customer service is only one of many problems that China must work through; however, I believe that it will do so, and the potential for greatness here is tremendous. I love living and working in China, and I have no intention of leaving in the foreseeable future. Customer service aside, the Chinese are extremely generous in their personal relations, possess a delightful sense of humor, offer astonishing intellectual insights, and I regularly get to see that “semi-Buddhist” shine through the secular veneer. Moreover, I am needed here, if only to sit daily and mindfully exhibit respect and discipline in my own behavior and personal interactions.

I believe one day the Buddha will again come out of the shadows, emerging fully into the cultural background of a secular China. When that day arrives, customer service here will quickly improve, and may even become the best on the planet. In the meantime, our concern should be whether there is a Buddha in the background of our own nations—even our own place of work.