. . . makes a difference. A BIG difference.
At Canon’s offices this morning, figuring I’d pick up my gear if they’re just going to let it sit there, I politely expressed my frustration to the front-line staff, doing so in as pleasant a manner as possible.
Staff excused herself and went into the tech area, behind closed doors. After a considerable amount of time, she came out with a convoluted explanation (translation: bullshit) about what had transpired with the gear over the past nine days. She further stated that the tech had indicated his “intention” to phone me in the afternoon.
Sensing that I was buying none of it, she headed into the back again. After another lengthy wait, she came out, this time with the technician. Neither of the two people I talked to on my first visit had related to him the specific issue with the lens that I had detailed to them, and which would have enabled the technician to pinpoint the problem. He nodded as I explained, then excused himself to the back—again.
After a less lengthy wait, he came out again, having phoned his superiors, and offered to replace the lens. Turns out he knew of the specific issue in some copies of the lens.
So it took some time, but it appears that Canon has chosen to address an issue they can’t fix locally by replacing the lens—the right thing do to in this instance. I left their offices with my R5 in my hands and the promise of a new copy of the RF 100-500mm in the near future. Instead of alienating a customer who’s bought heavily into their newest system, they’ve likely earned more trust along with future purchases, from a loyal customer.
I can think of one other manufacturer that could learn a valuable lesson from this. But, no matter—I’m a Canon dude now . . .