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In 1950 Alan Turing, the British mathematical genius who with the help of crude early computers broke Hitler's codes, proposed a test to determine if a machine was intelligent, in the event that machines ever became intelligent. This is the Turing Test: if you are communicating through a computer and believe you are communicating with a human being when in fact you are communicating with a computer, then the machine can be deemed to be intelligent—it passes the Turing test.

There have been many serious and some not-so-serious attempts to create computer programs that would pass the Turing Test. Among these was a program called ELIZA (1966) which attempted to imitate a nondirective therapist. Programs like ELIZA try to identify key words and phrases in things you type and try to compose what appears to be relevant replies based on those keywords. In the role of nondirective therapist, ELIZA could cut many corners because it could always fall back on nondirective prompts such as "Go on," "How did you feel about that?" and "Tell me more about ______," where the blank could be filled in with a key word from whatever you had had typed. A transcript of a conversation with ELIZA could have long stretches that looked like a real communication between two people, but it was not too difficult to trip ELIZA up and get ELIZA to emit a response that was nonsense or was so ungrammatical that no human being could have composed it (such as "How do you feel about you do not how you feel about it?").

If the Turing Test is a test of Artificial Intelligence, I want to propose an Anti-Turing Test. It is a test of Artificial Stupidity. Here is the test: if a customer cannot tell when interacting with your call center or your web-based feedback form that he is communicating with a human being and not with a computer, then your feedback system has Artificial Stupidity.

One of the surest signs of Artificial Stupidity is failure to answer simple direct questions. True enough, sometimes that answer is not one that will be pleasing to the customer. Sometimes the answer is "No." Sometimes the answer is "I don't know," or "I don't have that information," or "I cannot release that information." Those are not pleasing answers, but they do acknowledge the customer's question.

If you have a problem-tracking system, a sure sign of Artificial Stupidity is failing to note the history of the problem in responding to the current communication. If the tracking system is not used to produced a better answer this time, what do you have a tracking system for? When the chain has got two or three question-response cycles deep communication is not taking place. The thread needs to be directed to a specialist or supervisor who has the skills, knowledge, and policy latitude to acknowledge the issues, to answer novel questions and issues, and to refer the thread appropriately if necessary. Not every customer-care employee needs this level of skill. Not even very many of them do. After all most calls by far do fall into recurrent patterns that can be responded to by script. But when the script doesn't work, someone who can go off-script should be available.

A red-line example of Artificial Stupidity is the thought that customer-care performance can be measured by how often the customer goes away. Yet, when performance is measured in call numbers, the incentives favor employees who make customers go away in the most efficient manner. Sometimes the customer goes away permanently. An issue cannot be presumed resolved just because the customer stops bothering the customer-care representatives. The metric for customer-care performance is how often customers who have contacted customer care come back to make a purchase. If that isn't the outcome you are aiming at, why have any customer care at all? Maybe you are a philanthropist who can afford, out of the goodness of your heart, to employ people to wear headsets and sit in front of computer screens drinking coffee regardless of the effect on your revenues.

I have received email from the CEO of Redcats USA (which includes the former Lane Bryant lines including King Size) that he will address the problem described in the previous article (see below) when he returns to the US next week. This is very satisfactory, and of course I do not expect he can address the issues raised via Blackberry.

I should point out that King Size (so far as I can tell) doesn't have my money. UMG does. My issues with King Size are about customer relations and their policies regarding copromotion.

This is a long tale of consumer woe. I won't hold it against you if you skip it. In fact, it is pretty much just venting for me, so I ought to recommend that you skip it.

Before I go any further, I have to share a secret with you. Step a little closer. I don't want to say this too loud. You see, it is just this: [{( i am fat )}]. I know you may find that hard to believe—an international celebrity and bon vivant like myself, I mean who would think it? And if it is true, how come I am not doing Jenny Craig commercials and raking in the big bucks? And I don't mean zaftig, plump, husky, or big. I mean the f word. Anyway it has been true all my life except for a few years around 1980 when I got beautiful. But they closed down the bathhouse where I got beautiful on account of the AIDS thing, and that, as they say, was that.

So as a consequence of—you know—I have been a King Size customer for around 50 years. In fact three generations of my family have been customers of King Size or their parent company Lane Bryant. I bought lots of expensive stuff when I had money, publishers and promoters bought stuff for me when I was making appearances, and when I don't have much money I still got basics from them (and even the basics are not exactly cheap when you are—well, you know). Whenever I moved, the first change of address card went to King Size. The King Size catalogue I regarded as a drowning man regards a lifeline. When I got online, the catalogue wasn't so necessary, but I would generally go through it to put together my order before I went to their website. You couldn't have found a more faithful customer. And there never were any problems from my side. I waited patiently for back-ordered items. I even silently accepted some items that were not quite right rather than return them and get a black mark on my customer record.

So a few months ago, I got an envelope from King Size. At least the envelope bore a King Size logo. It said, (I have the envelope in my files) please fill out our customer survey and try out our new program for 30 days free. It was the sort of thing that would have gone into the trash unopened, except it came from King Size. The new program was for a discount/coupon service called "Buyers Edge"—but I thought it was a King Size program at the time. If I filled out the survey they said I would get their card, membership materials, their discount listings, and coupons and I would have thirty days free to tell them to cancel. Now the truth is, their "example savings" did seem to be on high-end items I wouldn't be buying, but they promised more information in the membership kit. So, I thought, what's the harm in looking at their stuff. Maybe they will have savings on stuff in my range. And if not I will have 30 days to cancel. And after all, this came from King Size, and I knew I could rely on them.

Time passed and I did not get a membership kit. I got no communications at all from Buyers Edge (who I thought at the time was King Size and it was just the name of a King Size program). No call. No letter. No email—I think I gave them my email. Nothing. At first I would think of it occasionally, and I supposed, since I had filled out information about my circumstances accurately, they had decided I wasn't for them. Eventually, I did not think of it at all.

Until Saturday. I was about to dispatch the Beaglemaster for dog food coffee and tuna to last the rest of the month. That would take the last twenty dollars I had in the bank. So before I gave him the card, I checked the Wells Fargo site to be sure there would be no problem. Consternation! There was just $8 and change in my account. When I went to the detail page I discovered UMG*Buyersedge had tapped my debit card for $11.99. I knew good and well we hadn't spent $11.99 on anything at or around the 15th when the charge posted. So I dug through my files looking for something named UMG-Buyersedge. I couldn't find anything, but I spotted the King Size envelope and checked the material in it. It was then I discovered that I what I had thought was a King Size deal was actually Buyers Edge.

First I tried the 866 number on the banking detail page, but they were closed until Monday. So I google UMG Buyersedge, whereby I discovered UMG is United Marketing Group, which googled up revealed that this is a very common scam for them. They work copromotions with apparently reputable businesses, even banks. You get nothing from them and they suddenly zap you for the $11.99. On the good side, people reported some luck getting the $11.99 refunded. On the bad side, a few months after the $11.99 is refunded, they zap you with four $11.99 charges all at once.

So I waited until Monday morning and called the number. The guy said since I didn't get a membership kit, they would rush one to me right away. I said no, you won't. You'll refund my money and cancel any account you think I have with you. He said okay and gave me a confirmation number. But the charge didn't disappear.

So I went to the King Size site and explained about what I have just explained to you and asked what their ongoing relationship with UMG is and who set their policies regarding copromotions. There were many exchanges with King Size. They simply refused to answer any specific question. I suspect they just picked out keywords like UMG and sent me the same boilerplate with UMG's 800 number. They kept talking about my "inconvenience," and when I complained that "inconvenience" was not the issue, being robbed was, they replied again "Sorry for the inconvenience!" Now I should say I did not expect and did not ask King Size to make good on the $11.99. I asked and expected some kind of answer to questions like: "Does King Size have an ongoing relationship with UMG?" "Who makes policies about copromotions at King Size?" "How can I write to that person?" "Is there any system for tracking feedback on copromotions?" "If so, how do I get my feedback into that system?" And so forth. They didn't give me unsatisfactory answers to these questions (such as "I don't know," "I can't give you that information," etc.) They just pretended I hadn't asked the questions.

So after five or six such exchanges I asked King Size to remove me from their mailing lists, to delete my accounts, and to remove personal identifying information and information about my payment methods from their system.

I guess UMG paid them so much money that it was worth the loss of a lifelong customer.

I'm very sad, and my $11.99 hasn't come back. I'm pretty sure the dog will eat brown rice, if I put garlic in it. She'll better if she hopes to make it to the 1st. Oh wait, there's peanut butter too. I know she'll eat garlic-peanut-butter-rice.

The moral of this story I guess, is there no such thing as an honest business. Consumer loyalty is a one-way street. Business is about screwing the consumer whether the business is Enron or King Size. They are greedy bastards and they will screw you over after 50 years to make a dime today without even thinking that they would make more money in the long run if they keep you as a customer.

Oh, yeah, the Gucci thing. You see, Brylane, which owns King Size became Redcats USA a few years ago when the were bought by French giant PPR (Pinault-Printemps-Redoute). And PPR owns Gucci and all kinds of other clothing merchants. You would probably go naked if you tried to avoid everything PPR has its fingers in. So just don't buy Gucci.

PS: I wrote to Wells, but haven't heard back from them.