GoodLife Fitness: Give me your pricing online because I will ignore your calls forever.
Here’s a piece of digital strategy insight: Millennials shop online. I could provide you with all kinds of statistics to back this up, but in this case I just want to share an anecdote about a recent customer experience (as a Millennial who buys almost everything online) for your consideration.
Like most people, I start the new year will all kinds of resolutions. It’s an opportunity to reset. We make promises to ourselves like “I’m going to reduce spending on things I don’t need”, “I’m going to eat better” and “I’m going to finally start going to the gym”. For me 2016 was a good year, I did eat better, I did go to the gym, and while I probably spend too much, it’s mostly on things I enjoy (YOLO).
All that considered, post holiday glut I was thinking about joining a new gym. My office has a free gym (which I use frequently) but it’s pretty limited in terms of equipment, there are no classes, and I was ready to consider something less free.
In Toronto (where I live) there are plenty of independent gyms. I began my search for options online, focusing on factors like proximity to work, and price. What I discovered, (pardon my ignorance) is that gyms don’t share their prices online. Further to that, absolutely no-one offers the ability to purchase a membership online. The story is the same everywhere: “call us or come in for a visit, and then we’ll talk about pricing”. For me this is a problem.
You see, I don’t like checking places out. I don’t have time to check places out. I also don’t want to talk on the phone. I want to compare a gym’s features, pricing and proximity, without ever having to talk to a person or step into a sweaty gym, until I’m ready to pay for and use the service. This left me in a kind of purchasing limbo. Here I was ready to buy, credit card out, and ready to spend, but not one of these companies wants my business unless it’s on their terms.
Now for small gyms I get it. Most are operating on a thin budget for marketing (never mind digital marketing or e-commerce) and so really this needs to be their sales tactic, and I’m sure it works often enough. They clearly aren’t going to invest in e-commerce, people just come in looking for memberships. But what about the “big box” gyms?
In my research, I had intentionally avoided even considering GoodLife, since their reputation is well, the worst. Friends I spoke to even tried to dissuade me. But in a desire to explore my options, I decided to at least consider it. After all, (I told myself) there is a GoodLife on my way home from work, and one close by my apartment. For some reason, I assumed that a company the scale of GoodLife might have some kind of online sales process that I could impulsively use to commit to a decision. This was unfortunately not the case, and here is where I made my biggest mistake. I gave GoodLife my phone number.
Honestly, I don’t know what happened (it’s a bit of a blur). I went to the website, and in my haste to get a list of pricing I filled the form. Chrome autocompleted the phone number, and next thing I know the calls had begun.
Just a little background: I don’t do phone calls. Generally, I just don’t answer calls to my cell at all. I text, I email, I chat obsessively, but phone calls are just not a thing I do (again Millennial). When on occasion I do answer and it’s a sales call, I usual just troll. Making robot voices, repeatedly saying hello in an elderly man’s voice until a person awkwardly hangs up. It’s terrible, but really I just hate phone calls. So when I saw GoodLife come up on my call display, I just ignored it. I ignored their call the first time, the second time, and especially the third through eighth time they called.
Now I get the game. I work in a service based business. I pitch and I sell, never by phone mind you, but I get the drill. GoodLife wants to sell me on everything they can, and they think they need to get me on the phone to work me. Maybe they want to convince me to stop by. There is a family deal, a package, classes, personal trainers, free towels for signing up! All of these things are of no interest to me since I already know what I want (to know the price of a membership, ideally with an option to purchase online), and more importantly what I don’t want (anything being sold to me by phone).
The irony is, sales tactics do actually work on me when effectively deployed. I frequently shop for clothes online, based on email marketing campaigns, I have in sound body and mind subscribed to. Sometimes I just load up a cart and never come back to it, but sometimes a company is smart enough to send me a follow-up reminder: “hey, Sean, do you still want these chinos?” or even a personalized incentive “hey, Sean, those chinos are 50% off right now!”. Honestly, that works on me more often then not.
But calling me? Really? Repeatedly? This sales tactic is weak, old fashioned, and it’s disruptive ( not in a good way). Most importantly, it just doesn’t work (clearly, since GoodLife still doesn’t have my money).
Now there is a lesson here for GoodLife (and if for some reason, someone at the company is interested in talking digital transformation, hit me up via email). The lesson is, that this sales model, this “get them on the phone, get them in person” tactic, is totally broken for me. I just don’t buy like that anymore (we don’t buy like that anymore). I make educated purchases, but I do so on impulse, and when I’m ready to buy that’s the exact moment you need to complete the transaction.
They we’re so close to having me. I was there on the site, ready to make a choice but I had no options. With fine print, and “Get Started” (but never completing the transaction), GoodLife goes out of their way to introduce friction to the sale, and it could be so much easier.
So, here is a free idea: Let me purchase a membership directly from the GoodLife app (which currently has 2.5 stars on the Google Play store FYI). I open the app, I pay, I go to the gym. GoodLife, you could be in my pocket right now, with my credit card details stored and ready. You could be reminding me there is a premium class I can sign up for, or you could let me know about how I can save on my membership by adding a family member, with a big fat “Buy now” button to make it oh so easy.
Take it a step further even. Sell me custom content in app, based on my exercise habits; give me a trainer in my pocket (I already subscribe, monthly, to to an app like this by the way). You could be up-selling me constantly, just not in person and not on the phone. Even better get me post workout when I feeling charged up.
The point is, if there is value in your offering, I will spend but you need to capture me when I’m interested, on my terms (not on the phone a week later, when I’m obviously at work at 1:45pm). Micro-transactions, personalization, marketing automation, this is the modern sales stack.
Seriously, GoodLife we could have had an engaged relationship, but instead you get nothing from me. Eventually a gym will get my money. A company will come along that gets it (that gets me). But in the interim, I’ll be here with my money in hand (working out in my sub-par but uncomplicated office gym) continuing to ignore those calls.
