All posts by alex

Font Change

First time I change fonts in an existing theme. We’ll see how that works.

Just learnt about Adobe’s Source Sans Pro and thought it was particularly neat. I’m no “type geek” but I’m getting something from this font which I don’t get from other fonts. Been switching different desktop apps to it and it’s now the default font in my default browser. Now that Adobe has released the monospace Source Code Pro, I’m using that in text editors.

Using Google Web Fonts with WordPress

As these fonts are among Google Web Fonts, it’s particularly easy to use them with Web content.

There are plenty of methods to change fonts in a WordPress theme. The best one, most likely, is to create a child theme and change fonts there. Looks like the “@import” method isn’t recommended, but it probably works.

In my case, I’m using a simple plugin. There are plenty of Web fonts plugins available but this one seems to do the job and I don’t need the features other plugins are boasting. One thing I might want to change is the font for blockquotes.

Blockquotes can look quite different from the rest…

But that’s not really an issue, for now. Same thing with switching fixed-width to Source Code Pro.

This probably looks weird…

Given the popularity of Source Sans Pro, I’m assuming some WP themes will start adopting it as a font choice. We’ll see.

In the meantime, I’ll probably switch to Source Sans Pro on other sites as well.

Some samples…

  1. Il était une fois…
  2. Affinités pour les ligatures subtiles, pour les afters.
  3. Dans le gras du vide.
  4. Ça marche comme à Çingleton, ça madame!
  5. À moins de 0ºC, Orville se les gèle.

Timeline of Apple’s Online Services

[I’d like people’s help in completing a timeline of Apple’s online services.]

[Update: deleted the WordPress shortcode, which seems not to be working.]

As kind of a followup to yesterday’s post about some early rumours and speculations about the iPhone, I thought about posting some info about Apple’s online services. Part of the reason is that Asymco’s Horace Dediu has frequently talked about what we could call “Apple’s data play”, for instance in this post about the iCloud data centre in North Carolina. I was also thinking about Mike Davidson’s comments about Apple’s presence (and “dominance”) in such diverse fields as hardware, software, licensing, and commerce. The trigger for this post, though, was from this Steve Jobs comment, which appeared in a recent NYT piece about the Apple Maps fiasco:

The MobileMe launch clearly demonstrates that we have more to learn about Internet services

The overall context for this quote as well as a number of discussions about Apple is the consensus that Apple does a poor job with online services. MobileMe and iTunes Ping are often used in these discussions and it seems clear to most people (including Apple executives and insiders, it sounds like) that the “computer company turned consumer electronics vendor” has a lot to learn about online services.

The reason I find this so interesting is that Apple seems insistent on pushing at least some of its online services. A bit less of a “betting the farm” strategy as Google’s “Emerald Sea” initiative, but an intriguing strategy for such a large and still-successful company. Dediu’s frequent reference to Clay Christensen’s concept of “Disruptive Innovation” might apply, here. Apple might be “disrupting itself into” an online services company, at least in part.

There are several things I find intriguing about this strategy.

As opposed to most other enterprises’ “online plays”, Apple’s model tends not to be based on ad revenues. The divide between Google and Apple couldn’t be stronger when we talk about ad-supported free/freemium services as opposed to paid services or services attached to other purposes. It’s likely an irreconcilable difference between fans of  both teams.

Online services are clearly not Apple’s strong suit. It often sounds like Apple is missing a “magic touch” with online services, the same way other companies are said to lack Apple’s design sense. This is more similar to Google+ given the consensus that “Google doesn’t know how to do ‘social’”. But it’s still surprising.

Though Apple may not have a “knack” for online services, it’s been trying to do it for quite a while. I keep thinking about eWorld as a precursor to the whole thing. It’s one thing for a company to try its hand at something new or to pivot into a strong business. It’s another thing entirely to shift more energies into something which has so far proven to be mostly a lost cause.

Adding to my thoughts on this was a podcast conversation (I think between John Siracusa and Dan Benjamin, though it might have been between Marco Arment and John Gruber) during which comments were made about those Apple employees working on online services.

So, basically, Apple’s online services have been on my mind. But I couldn’t find an exhaustive list. Tried Wikipedia but it doesn’t really separate online services from other things Apple does. And I ended up thinking about what would define “online services” in Apple’s case. Everything Apple does which incurs some bandwidth costs would be my working definition. Basically, it’s something to do with Apple investing in data centres and such. Some of these seem like very small costs (hosting data about podcasts, instead of the podcasts themselves, for instance). Given Apple’s size, these costs and the infrastructure behind all of this can be quite big.

So I started listing some of these services and organizing them in a sort of timeline, first in MultiMarkdown format in nvAlt, then in a Google Spreadsheet. I then discovered Vérité.CO’s Timeline.JS which takes a Google Spreadsheet and makes it into a visual timeline.

A few notes:

  • It’s a quick draft and I didn’t really check any of the data points.
  • In most cases, I only added months and, in the case of “AppleLink”, I only put years.
  • I took most dates from diverse Wikipedia pages, not necessarily backtracking on the whole process.
  • On at least one occasion, there was a discrepancy between two dates.
  • Sometimes, I took the date of the service’s announcement while I used an actual launch date for other services.
  • I only added a couple of pictures to show that it can be done. Many of the relevant pix are likely to be under copyright or to constitute a trademark.
  • I tried to be as exhaustive as I could be, but I’m sure I forgot stuff.
  • Some things may not sound like they qualify as part of “Apple’s online offering” but I think they’re still relevant. My rule of thumb is that if it goes to Apple’s servers, it’s an online service.
  • I separated some services from “suites” like iCloud or iTools, partly because some of those services haven’t been kept, which is important to see in a timeline. There are several services missing, here.
  • None of this timeline is meant to be editorial. I was just curious about what Apple has been doing online since the 1980s. The reason I care can be found in my earlier notes. I consider myself neither an “Apple fanboi” nor an “Apple hater”. I just find the situation revealing of something happening in the tech world, which has an impact on the Geek Niche.

So, here goes.

Here’s the Google Spreadsheet (editable by anyone):

Apple Online Services

Here’s the timeline through an embed code:

Here’s the embed code:

<iframe src='' width='100%' height='650' frameborder='0'>


Early iPhone Rumours

[The link originally pointed to Mike Davidson’s 2005 piece. More explanations here.]

[Update, a bit later… Added some thoughts, links, and tags…]

While listening to the Critical Path podcast on 5by5 with Asymco’s Horace Dediu, I got stuck on Dediu’s comment that there weren’t iPhone rumours when Google acquired Android. After a quick search, I ended up on this 2005 piece by Mike Davidson (written eight months before the Google purchase), so I tweeted to @Asymco with a link to Davidson’s post. Several people, including Dediu himself, tell me that this wouldn’t qualify as a rumour (though my own definition of rumour probably differs from theirs). Still, I’ve received some comments about how insightful this piece was. It was partly based on a November 2004 piece by Russell Beattie, which was itself a partial reaction to a short Ross Mayfield post about a “WiFi iPod”. In comments on Davidson’s piece, Ste Grainer mentioned a Robert X. Cringely piece about a Mac Media Centre.

I later found a NYT piece from 2002 which contained an actual rumour about the “iPhone”, including the name:

industry analysts see evidence that Apple is contemplating what inside the company is being called an ”iPhone.”

This, I think, would qualify as a rumour in most people’s definitions, though it didn’t include “leaked prototypes”.

But back to this Davidson piece, which might have been more insightful than the NYT’s one or even Beattie’s…

In hindsight, Davidson’s piece was both prescient of what would actually happen and telling in what didn’t happen. He talked about satellite radio, Plays for Sure, and WiMAX none of which panned out as planned. Also, Davidson surmised some things about Apple’s “content play” which were both less ambitious and more impactful (on Apple’s bottomline) than what actually happened. Apple’s 2007 move against DRM might have been surprising to the 2005 Davidson. And it’s funny to think back to an era when high prices for flash storage made it prohibitive to build a mobile device… 😉

Basically, though, Davidson was speculating about an integrated device which would replace several devices at once:

It won’t be long before the cell phone is your camera, your music player, your organizer, your portable web client, your remote control, and your digital wallet

[We could argue about Android’s NFC play being closer to the digital wallet ideal than Apple’s passbook. The other parts are closer to a Treo anyway…]

In the abstract at least (and in Steve Jobs’s way of describing it), the iPhone has been this integrated communicating device about which people had been talking for years. So, kudos to Mike Davidson for predicting this a while in advance. He was neither the first nor the last, but he painted an interesting portrait.

Now, there are other parts to this story, I think. Given the fact that work on what would become iOS devices (iPad first, we’re told) hadn’t begun when Charles Wolf told the New York Times about a device called “iPhone” internally at Apple, I get the impression that the rumours predated much of the actual development work leading to the device. Speculation happened later still. It seems to relate to a number of things demonstrated by STS generally and SCOT specifically. Namely that technological development is embedded in a broader social process.

I also find interesting some side notions in all of these pieces. For instance, ideas about the impact the device might have on people’s usage. Or the fact that the move from the Treo to the iPhone ends up being quite significant, in retrospect. Even Davidson’s points about headphones and retail stores seem to relate to current things. So does the existence of the iPod touch and Apple TV in Apple’s lineup, addressing Mayfield and Cringely, respectively.

I also end up reflecting upon the shift from the “digital hub” strategy (peaking around 2007 or so) to the one revealed with iCloud, “Back to the Mac” and, yes, even Apple Maps. Dediu devotes much time to his mentor Clay Christensen’s notion of “disruptive innovation” and spent part of this latest Critcal Path episode talking about the risks behind Apple not being disruptive enough.

All of this makes me think…

Not that I have a very clear idea of what might happen but, recently, I’ve been thinking about the broader picture. Including the Maps kerfuffle. The importance of social disruption. Apple’s financial state and market presence. The so-called “Post-PC” era in relation to other “post-” notions (post-industrialism, post-colonialism, post-nationalism, post-modernism…). The boring nature of the Google/Apple conflict. The recent financial crisis. The tech world’s emphasis on Apple. The future of academia and education. The iconicity of Steve Jobs…

As Mike Wesch has been saying:

We’ll need to rethink a few things…

FRESCH Comeback: EuroTrip 1

Last Wednesday, I came back to Montreal after a five-week trip to Spain (ES), France (FR), and Switzerland (CH). Got plenty of things to say about this trip, but I thought I’d get started with a few general comments.

Typically, my blogposts in English tend not to be about personal stuff. In this case, though my trip was a personal endeavour, it does have some impacts on things I do professionally or otherwise. In fact, there’s a level at which these things add up as an overall personal/professional development, especially since it’s been something of an important point in a fairly long transition period for me. Writing about this trip serves a dual purpose, for me, as it helps me to make sense of what this trip means in the longterm while getting me back into writing, which I haven’t done much during said trip.

Again, there are many things I’d like to say about my trip. For instance, I have a whole post planned out about my use of WiFi during this trip and I’d also like to say some things about my taking pictures in all sorts of places for all sorts of reasons. But this is more of an overview. As a teaser for these two potential posts: WiFi was both important and tricky for me; I may not be visual but I did take more than 2500 pictures in 35 days. 😉

I’ve been drawing two main conclusions from my trip. Both are quite positive, but they come from something of a surprise flirting with disappointment. In other words, I got a lot from my stay in Europe and I’m really glad I went. But the outcome, while quite positive, didn’t match my expectations. Which has a lot to do with the role of expectations during this transition period in my life.

So, a tiny bit of context. As a kid and teenager, I used to go to Europe on a fairly regular basis. Fairly short trips, mostly to two very specific locations in Switzerland: my grandmother’s place in Montreux, VD (Territet, actually), and a house my father owned in Chalais, VS. We’d spend time in all sorts of other places, including Paris and Milan. But we mostly focused on Montreux and Chalais. These places felt like home, to me.

As most of these trips to Chalais and Montreux were separated by a few years, I grew accustomed to missing Europe. Nostalgia for all sorts of things European has been a fairly strong drive in my life, at the time. I’ve also been nostalgic of just about any place where I’ve lived in North America and Africa. But my nostalgia for Switzerland and other parts of Europe had a special place in my life.

The peak in this longing for Europe came after my only extended stay on the continent. In 1994–1995, I spent 15 months in Lausanne, working as a graduate assistant in Speech Research (doing analysis for a speech synthesis system created at a lab at Université de Lausanne). This Lausanne stint was a high point in my life and there was a clear “before/after” effect. It marked a high plateau in about nine years of happiness. It also marked the end of an era. What I felt, fairly quickly after coming back from Lausanne, wasn’t unhappiness. But it was as if I had forgotten how to be happy. That period lasted for about twelve years.

What started it was a combination of things. One was a kind of “Paradise Lost” notion, as I had a tendency to negatively compare my post-Lausanne life to what I had left behind. Silly, perhaps. But it was then difficult for me to take life for what it is.

Another factor was something I’ve associated with a “midlife crisis”, even though the timing was off by quite a few years. I was only 24, then, but I felt a number of things which are normally associated with “midlife”. Not a desire for sports cars (I don’t drive) or younger women (!). But something about a sense of accomplishment, a kind of disappointment about the “point” at which I was, in my life. Again, it sounds silly in retrospect. It hit me before I turned 25: I might have been what I wanted to be,  but I hadn’t done what I felt I should do. Again, my Lausanne life was serving as a point of comparison, as I was taking something of a “demotion” in several ways.

Another dimension which might have prepared me for this weird phase was the social and economical “climate” in Montreal, at the time. When I came back from Switzerland, the sense was that Québec had been affected by all sorts of financial and social issues for a number of years. It’s not even that the situation was worse than it had ever been. It was mostly a «marasme», a sense of longterm but relatively low-level moroseness. People I knew frequently discussed financial issues, something which seemed to be avoided by most people I had met in Switzerland. To this day, I’d say that money tends to be a taboo topic in Switzerland, which has both disadvantages and benefits. For several reasons, avoiding money-related discussions had been mostly beneficial to me personally. Coming back to Québec where money sounded like the main topic on people’s minds was difficult. Yet again, comparison between my European experience and my life in Montreal was skewed.

More on this later, as “tables have turned”, so to speak.

So, in the late 1990s, I was longing for Europe. Well, less Europe itself as the life I had there. Many things have happened since, including a short trip to Europe in 2000, but this lingering feeling remained with me until this most recent trip.

In the meantime, I was moving around quite a bit. And I do mean “moving”, as in going to live in different places, losing most any sense of geographic stability. Apart for an extended stay in Mali (a few years after a shorter trip there), all of these moves were in North America: IN, NB, MA, TX, and Qc. Some of these stays were quite short (at one point, I moved twice in the same week) and I regularly came back to Montreal. The overall notion was one of “living in boxes”, never really settling down.

Since April 2008, however, I’ve been living in Montreal. Continuously! Quite a change of pace. One way to put it is that it helped me grow back some roots. The impact this has had on my personal and professional development can hardly be overstated.

Which leads me to this transition period which provides the context for my EuroTrip. If I had something of a “midlife crisis” at age 24, I feel like I’m having the opposite at age 40. All sorts of things are either going quite well or improving significantly, in my life. And I’ve been feeling like this was a turning point in my life, one which gives quite a bit of room for decisions I’ve been making. And, really, I feel like I’m making the right decisions in my life.

These decisions were helped by personal life but also a bunch of things happening in what I consider my professional life. In terms of professional development, I feel like 2012 has already been a pivotal year, for me. There are personal dimensions to all this but the main transition has occurred through professional coaching, a learning circle, work projects, and a training workshop.

So, in most ways, my trip to Europe (my first in twelve years) was supposed to be a turning point.

And it was. Just not in the way I expected.

This is where the “FrEsCH” pun comes in. I went to Europe to “recharge my batteries”, to get a fresh perspective on things. It didn’t really happen there, though the process did start there. And it’s still going on. But I’m drawing some lessons from the experience.

The two main conclusions from my trip are part of it.

The best times I’ve had in Europe were with friends and/or family.

I spent most of my trip staying with family or friends. It’s one of my favourite ways to travel but, contrary to what some people seem to think, my main incentive isn’t financial. Sure, I would have a very different trip if I had spent money for lodging throughout. In fact, I probably wouldn’t have stayed nearly as long in Europe.

It’s not like the difference between camping and staying in hotels. It’s the difference between visiting people and visiting places. I did visit Barcelona, for instance, staying at a guest house. But that part of my trip was the least pleasurable. The lack of true human contact was a big part of this. The other legs of my trip were spent with people. These made my trip worthwhile.

Talking occupied much of that time with friends and family. All sorts of discussions about all sorts of topics. Many of these were relatively deep without getting heavy. Some of those discussions were actually quite long but short interactions were also quite interesting and pleasurable. Some of these discussions had to do with my plans or my life, but I also heard all sorts of things about all sorts of lives. I wasn’t doing any kind of fieldwork so it’s not really as an ethnographer that I enjoyed those. Part of what brought me to ethnography is an interest for these kinds of discussions and it still titillated my anthropological sense.

What’s funny is that I didn’t really expected this outcome. I thought that I’d mostly enjoy smells, sounds, sceneries, and tastes that I could only experience in Europe. Ended up enjoying contacts I could conceivably have anywhere. But context is key, as Sarine knows so well. Some of the people I saw in Europe I had also seen in North America. But it’s in Europe that I was able to really spend time with them.

A lot of this has to do with the “rhythm of life” in Europe. But that’ll be a topic for another post. For now, I want to introduce the other conclusion of my trip…

I don’t need to be in Europe to be happy.

Yep. Obvious, simple, even silly. But it seems like it took me all this time to realize this. I’m not even done, exploring the implications of this naïve realization.

At a certain level, this realization came as a sort of disappointment. A kind of “that’s it?” moment. Even more negative, what I had enjoyed so much during past trips to Europe (tastes, sights, sounds, smells…) had become much less special. I was almost blasé during important sections of my trip. I wasn’t getting the moments of intense joy for which I was anxiously waiting, over the years. But I got something else. The sense that my life in North America was fitting in a deeper way than I had assumed.

Part of this was facilitated by a sense of «marasme» I frequently noticed during my trip. Several of the people with whom I was talking, over there, gave me a similar impression to what I had in Québec in the late 1990s. A kind of slow-burning dread. Things aren’t tragic for those people I met. But there are enough people affected by social and financial issues that it sounds like it’s hard for people to be really enthusiastic. It’s not even about the future, about which some people are legitimately concerned. It’s about a stagnant pond of a present. Even with Swiss friends and relatives whom I knew to be reluctant in discussing money issues, money was addressed explicitly on several occasions and sounded like a background noise in other conversations.

Meanwhile, I get the sense here in Montreal that things are going on. Sure, there are multiple reasons to be preoccupied here as well as elsewhere. I wouldn’t even say that people here are particularly hopeful. It’s just that the tone of most conversations is more “neutral” than morose. Given my almost-pathological sense of empathy, a morose ambiance tends to affect me deeply. I don’t need euphoria, but I do need to refresh my own enthusiasm for life.

Concierge-Style Service

Disclaimer: This is one of those blogposts in which I ramble quite a bit. I do have a core point, but I take winding roads around it. It’s also a post where I’m consciously naïve, this time talking about topics which may make economists react viscerally. My hope is that they can get past their initial reaction and think about “the fool’s truth”.

High-quality customer service is something which has a very positive effect, on me. More than being awed by it, I’m extremely appreciative for it when it’s directed towards me and glad it exists when other people take advantage of it.

And I understand (at least some of) the difficulties of customer service.

Never worked directly in customer service. I do interact with a number of people, when I work (teaching, doing field research, working in restaurants, or even doing surveys over the phone). And I’ve had to deal with my share of “difficult customers”, sometimes for months at a time. But nothing I’ve done was officially considered customer service. In fact, with some of my work, “customer service” is exactly the opposite of “what the job is about”, despite some apparent similarities.

So I can only talk about customer service as a customer.

As job sectors go, customer service is quite compatible with a post-industrial world. At the end of the Industrial Revolution, jobs in the primary and secondary sectors have decreased a lot in numbers, especially in the wealthiest parts of the World. The tertiary sector is rapidly growing, in these same contexts. We may eventually notice a significant move toward the quaternary sector, through the expansion of the “knowledge society” but, as far as I know, that sector employs a very small proportion of the active population in any current context.

Point is, the service sector is quite big.

It’s also quite diverse, in terms of activities as well as in terms of conditions. There are call centres where working conditions and salaries are somewhat comparable to factory work (though the latter is considered “blue collar” and the former “white collar”). And there are parts of the service industry which, from the outside, sound quite pleasant.

But, again, I’m taking the point of view of the customer, here. I really do care about working conditions and would be interested in finding ways to improve them, but this blogpost is about my reactions as someone on the other side of the relationship.

More specifically, I’m talking about cases where my satisfaction reaches a high level. I don’t like to complain about bad service (though I could share some examples). But I do like to underline quality service.

And there are plenty of examples of those. I often share them on Twitter and/or on Facebook. But I might as well talk about some of these, here. Especially since I’m wrapping my head about a more general principal.

A key case happened back in November, during the meetings of the American Anthropological Association, here in Montreal. Was meeting a friend of mine at the conference hotel. Did a Foursquare checkin there, while I was waiting, pointing out that I was a local. Received a Twitter reply from the hotel’s account, welcoming me to Montreal. Had a short exchange about this and was told that “if my friend needs anything…” Went to lunch with my friend.

Among the topics of our conversation was the presentation she was going to give, that afternoon. She was feeling rather nervous about it and asked me what could be done to keep her nervousness under control. Based on both personal experience and rumours, I told her to eat bananas, as they seem to help in relieving stress. But, obviously, bananas aren’t that easy to get, in a downtown area.

After leaving my friend, I thought about where to get bananas for her, as a surprise. Didn’t remember that there was a supermarket, not too far from the hotel, so I was at a loss. Eventually went back to the hotel, thinking I might ask the hotel staff about this. Turns out, it would have been possible to order bananas for my friend but the kitchen had just closed.

On a whim, I thought about contacting the person who had replied to me through the hotel’s Twitter account. Explained the situation, gave my friend’s room number and, within minutes, a fruit basket was delivered to her door. At no extra charge to me or to my friend. As if it were a completely normal thing to do, asking for bananas to be delivered to a room.

I’m actually not one to ask for favours, in general. And I did feel strange asking for these bananas. But I wanted to surprise my friend and was going to pay for the service anyway. And the “if she needs anything” message was almost a dare, to me. My asking for bananas was almost defiant. “Oh, yeah? Anything? How about you bring bananas to her room, then?” Again, I’m usually not like this but exchanges like those make me want to explore the limits of the interaction.

And the result was really positive. My friend was very grateful and I sincerely think it helped her relax before her presentation, beyond the effects of the bananas themselves. And it titillated my curiosity, as an informal observer of customer service.

Often heard about hotel concierges as the model of quality in customer service. This fruit basket gave me a taster.

What’s funny about «concierges» is that, as a Québécois, I mostly associate them with maintenance work. In school, for instance, the «concierge» was the janitor, the person in charge of cleaning up the mess left by students. Sounds like “custodian” (and “custodial services”) may be somewhat equivalent to this meaning of «concierge», among English-speaking Canadians, especially in universities. Cleaning services are the key aspect of this line of work. Of course, it’s important work and it should be respected. But it’s not typically glorified as a form of employment. In fact, it’s precisely the kind of work which is used as a threat to those whose school performance is considered insufficient. Condescending teachers and principals would tell someone that they could end up working as a «concierge» (“janitor”) if they didn’t get their act together. Despite being important, this work is considered low-status. And, typically, it has little to do with customer service, as their work is often done while others are absent.

Concierges in French apartment buildings are a different matter, as they also control access and seem to be involved in collecting rent. But, in the “popular imagination” (i.e., in French movies), they’re not associated with a very high quality of service. Can think of several concierges of this type, in French movies. Some of them may have a congenial personality. But I can’t think of one who was portrayed as a model of high-quality customer service.

(I have friends who were «concierges» in apartment buildings, here in Montreal. Their work, which they did while studying, was mostly about maintenance, including changing lightbulbs and shovelling snow. The equivalent of “building superintendent”, it seems. Again, important but devalued work.)

Hotel concierges are the ones English-speakers think of when they use the term. They are the ones who are associated with high-quality (and high-value) customer service. These are the ones I’m thinking about, here.

Hotel concierges’ “golden keys” («Clefs d’or») are as much of a status symbol as you can get one. No idea how much hotel concierges make and I’m unclear as to their training and hiring. But it’s clear that they occupy quite specific a position in the social ladder, much higher than that of school janitors or apartment concierges.

Again, I can just guess how difficult their work must be. Not only the activities themselves but the interactions with the public. Yet, what interests me now is their reputation for delivering outstanding service. The fruit basket delivered to my friend’s door was a key example, to me.

(I also heard more about staff in luxury hotels, in part from a friend who worked in a call centre for a hotel with an enviable reputation. The hospitality industry is also a central component of Swiss culture, and I heard a few things about Swiss hotel schools, including Lausanne’s well-known EHL. Not to mention contacts with ITHQ graduates. But my experience with this kind of service in a hotel context is very limited.)

And it reminds me of several other examples. One is my admiration for the work done by servers in a Fredericton restaurant. The food was quite good and the restaurant’s administration boasts their winelist. But the service is what gave me the most positive feeling. Those service were able to switch completely from treating other people like royalty to treating me like a friend. These people were so good at their job that I discussed it with some of them. Perhaps they were just being humble but they didn’t even seem to realize that they were doing an especially good job.

A similar case is at some of Siena’s best restaurants, during a stay with several friends. At most places we went, the service was remarkably impeccable. We were treated like we deserved an incredible amount of respect, even though we were wearing sandals, shorts, and t-shirts.

Of course, quality service happens outside of hotels and restaurants. Which is why I wanted to post this.

Yesterday, I went to the “Genius Bar” at the Apple Store near my university campus. Had been having some issues with my iPhone and normal troubleshooting didn’t help. In fact, I had been to the same place, a few months ago, and what they had tried hadn’t really solved the problem.

This time, the problem was fixed in a very simple way: they replaced my iPhone with a new one. The process was very straightforward and efficient. And, thanks to regular backups, setting up my replacement iPhone was relatively easy a process. (There were a few issues with it and it did take some time to do, but nothing compared to what it might have been like without cloud backups.)

Through this and previous experiences with the “Genius Bar“, I keep thinking that this service model should be applied to other spheres of work. Including healthcare. Not the specifics of how a “Genius Bar” works. But something about this quality of service, applied to patient care. I sincerely think it’d have a very positive impact on people’s health.

In a way, this might be what’s implied by “concierge medicine”: personalized healthcare services, centred on patients’ needs. But there’s a key difference between Apple’s “Genius Bar” and “concierge medicine”: access to the “Genius Bar” is open to all (customers of Apple products).

Sure, not everyone can afford Apple products. But, despite a prevailing impression, these products are usually not that much more expensive than those made by competitors. In fact, some products made by Apple are quite competitive in their market. So, while the concierge-style services offered by the “Genius Bar” are paid by Apple’s customers, costing those services as even the totality of the “Apple premium” might reveal quite decent a value proposition.

Besides, it’s not about Apple and it’s not really about costs. While Apple’s “Genius Bar” provided my inspiration for this post, I mostly think about quality of service, in general. And while it’s important for decision-makers to think about the costs involved, it’s also important to think about what we mean by high quality service.

One aspect of concierge-style service is that it’s adapted to specific needs. It’s highly customized and personalized, the exact opposite of a “cookie-cutter” approach. My experience at BrewBakers was like that: I was treated the way I wanted to be treated and other people were treated in a very different way. For instance, a server sat besides me as I was looking at the menu, as if I had been a friend “hanging out” with them, and then treated some other customers as if they were the most dignified people in the world. Can’t say for sure the other people appreciated it (looked like they did), but I know it gave me a very warm feeling.

Similar thing at the “Genius Bar”. I could hear other people being treated very formally, but every time I went I was treated with the exact level of informality that I really enjoy. Perhaps more importantly, people’s technology skills are clearly taken into account and they never, in my experience, represent a basis for condescension or for misguided advice. In other words, lack of knowledge of an issue is treated with an understanding attitude and a customer’s expertise on an issue is treated with the exact level of respect it deserves. As always, YMMV. But I’m consistently struck by how appropriately “Genius Bar” employees treat diverse degrees of technological sophistication. As a teacher, this is something about which I care deeply. And it’s really challenging.

While it’s flexible and adaptable, concierge-style service is also respectful, no matter what. This is where our experiences in Siena were so striking. We were treated with respect, even though we didn’t fit the “dress code” for any of these restaurants. And this is a city where, in our observations, people seemed to put a lot of care in what they wore. It’s quite likely that we were judged like annoying tourists, who failed to understand the importance of wearing a suit and tie when going to a “classy” restaurant. But we were still welcomed in these establishments, and nothing in the service made us perceive negatively judged by these servers.

I’ve also heard about hotel staff having to maintain their dignity while coping with people who broke much more than dress codes. And this applies whether or not these people are clients. Friends told me about how the staff at a luxury hotel may deal with people who are unlikely to be customers (including homeless people). According to these friends, the rule is to treat everyone with respect, regardless of which position in the social ladder people occupy. Having noticed a few occasions where respectful treatment was applied to people who are often marginalized, it gives me some of the same satisfaction as when I’m treated adequately.

In other words, concierge-style service is appropriate, “no matter what”. The payoff may not be immediately obvious to everyone, but it’s clearly there. For one thing, poor-quality service to someone else can be quite painful to watch and those of us who are empathetic are likely to “take our business elsewhere” when we see somebody else being treated with disrespect. Not to mention that a respectful attitude is often the best way to prevent all sorts of negative situations from happening. Plus, some high-status people may look like low-status ones in certain of these situations. (For instance, friend working for a luxury hotel once commented on some celebrities looking like homeless people when they appeared at the hotel’s entrance.)

Concierge-style service is also disconnected from business transactions. While the money used to pay for people providing concierge-style service comes from business transactions, this connection is invisible in the service itself. This is similar to something which seems to puzzle a number of people I know, when I mention it. And I’m having a hard time explaining it in a way that they understand. But it’s quite important in the case of customer service.

At one level, you may call it an illusion. Though people pay for a service, the service is provided as if this payment didn’t matter. Sure, the costs associated with my friend’s fruit basket were incurred in the cost of her room. But neither of us saw that cost. So, at that level, it’s as if people were oblivious to the business side of things. This might help explain it to some people, but it’s not the end of it.

Another part has to do with models in which the costs behind the service are supported by a larger group of people, for instance in the ad-based model behind newspapers and Google or in the shared costs model behind insurance systems (not to mention public sectors programs). The same applies to situation where a third-party is responsible for the costs, like parents paying for services provided to their children. In this case, the separation between services and business transactions is a separation between roles. The same person can be beneficiary or benefactor in the same system, but at different times. Part of the result is that the quality of the service is directed toward the beneficiary, even though this person may not be directly responsible for the costs incurred by this service. So, the quality of a service offered by Google has to do with users of that service, not with Google’s customers (advertisers). The same thing applies to any kind of sponsorship and can work quite well with concierge-level quality of service. The Apple Store model is a bit like this, in that Apple subsidizes its stores out of its “own pocket”, and seems to be making a lot of money thanks to them. It may be counterintuitive, as a model, and the distinction between paying for and getting a service may sound irrelevant. But, from the perspective of human beings getting this kind of service, the difference is quite important.

At another level, it’s a matter of politeness. While some people are fine talking financials about any kind of exchange, many others find open discussion of money quite impolite. The former group of people may find it absurd but some of us would rather not discuss the specifics of the business transactions while a service is given. And I don’t mean anything like the lack of transparency of a menu with no price, in a very expensive restaurant. Quite the contrary. I mean a situation where everybody knows how much things cost in this specific situation, but discussion of those costs happens outside of the service itself. Again, this may sound strange to some, but I’d argue that it’s a characteristic of concierge-style service. You know how much it costs to spend a night at this hotel (or to get a haircut from this salon). But, while a specific service is provided, these costs aren’t mentioned.

Another component of this separation between services and their costs is about “fluidity”. It can be quite inefficient for people to keep calculating how much a service costs, itemized. The well-known joke about an engineer asked to itemize services for accounting purposes relates to this. In an industrial context, every item can have a specific cost. Applying the same logic to the service sector can lead to an overwhelming overhead and can also be quite misleading, especially in the case of knowledge and creative work. (How much does an idea cost?) While concierge-style service may be measured, doing so can have a negative impact on the service itself.

Some of my thinking about services and their costs has to do with learning contexts. In fact, much of my thinking about quality of service has to do with learning, since teaching remains an important part of my life. The equation between the costs of education and the learning process is quite complex. While there may be strong correlations between socioeconomic factors and credentials, the correlation between learning and credential is seems to be weaker and the connection between learning and socioeconomic factors is quite indirect.

In fact, something which is counterintuitive to outsiders and misconstrued to administrators at learning institutions is the relationship between learning and the quality of the work done by a teacher. There are many factors involved, in the work of a teacher, from students’ prior knowledge to their engagement in the learning process, and from “time on task” to the compatibility between learning and teaching methods. It’s also remarkably difficult to measure teaching effectiveness, especially if one is to pay more than lipservice to lifelong learning. Also, the motivations behind a teacher’s work rarely have much to do with such things as differential pay. At the very least, it’s clear that dedicated teachers spend more time than is officially required, and that they do so without any expectation of getting more money. But they do expect (and often get) much more than money, including the satisfaction of a job well done.

The analogy between teaching and concierge services falls down quickly if we think that concierges’ customers are those who use their services. Even in “for-profit” schools, the student-teacher relationship has very little to do with a client-business relationship. Those who “consume” the learning process are learners’ future employers or society as a whole. But students themselves aren’t “consuming teaching”, they’re learning. Sure, students often pay a portion of the costs to run educational institutions (other costs being covered by research activities, sponsorships, government funding, alumni, and even parents). But the result of the learning process is quite different from paying for a service. At worst, students are perceived as the “products” of the process. At best, they help construct knowledge. And even if students are increasingly treated as if they were customers of learning institutions (including publicly-funded ones), their relationship to teachers is quite distinct from patronage.

And this is one place for a connection between teachers and concierges, having to do with the separation between services and their fees: high quality service is given by concierges and teachers beyond direct financial incentives to do so. Even if these same teachers and concierges are trying to get increased wages, the services they provide are free of these considerations. Salary negotiations are a matter between employers and employees. Those who receive services are customers of the employers, not the employees. There’d be no reason for a concierge or teacher to argue with customers and students about their salaries.

In a way, this is almost the opposite of “social alienation”. In social sciences. “alienation” refers to a feeling of estrangement often taking place among workers whose products are consumed by people with whom they have no connection. A worker at a Foxconn factory may feel alienated from the person who will buy the Dell laptop on which she’s working. But service work is quite distinct from this. While there may be a huge status differential between someone getting a service and the person providing it and there can be a feeling of distance, the fact that there’s a direct connection between the two is quite significant. Even someone working at a call centre in India providing technical support to a high-status customer in the US  is significantly different from the alienated factory worker. The direct connection between call centre employee and customer can have a significant impact on both people involved, and on the business behind the technical support request.

And, to a large extent, the further a person working in customer service is from the financial transaction, the higher the quality of the service.

Lots has been said about Zappos and about Nordstrom. Much of that has to do with how these two companies’ approaches to customer service differ from other approaches (for instance, avoiding scripts). But there might be a key lesson, here, in terms of distancing the service from the job. The “customers are always right” ethos doesn’t jive well with beancounting.

So, concierge-style service is “more than a job”.

Providing high-quality service can be highly stimulating, motivating, and satisfying. Haven’t looked at job satisfaction levels among these people, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they were quite high. What managers seem to forget, about job satisfaction, is that it has an impact beyond employee retention, productivity, and reputation. Satisfying jobs have a broad impact on society, which then impacts business. Like Ford paying high wages for his workers, much of it has to do with having a broader vision than simply managing the “ins and outs” of a given business. This is where Hanifan’s concept of social capital may come into play. Communities are built through such things as trust and job satisfaction.

Again, these aren’t simple issues. Quality customer service isn’t a simple matter of giving people the right conditions. But its effect are far-reaching.

It’s interesting to hear about “corporate concierge services” offered to employees of certain businesses. In a way, they loop back the relationship between high-quality service and labour. It sounds like corporate concierges can do a lot to enhance a workplace, even  making it more sustainable. I’d be curious to know more about them, as it sounds like they might have an interesting position with regards to the enterprise. I wouldn’t be surprised if their status were separate from that of regular employees within the business.

And, of course, I wish I were working at a place where such services were available. Sounds like those workplaces aren’t that uncommon. But having access to such services would be quite a privilege.

Thing is, I hate privilege, even when I’m the one benefitting from it. I once quipped that I hated library privileges, because they’re unequally distributed. The core of this is that I wish society were more equal. Not by levelling down everything we have, but by providing broader access to resources and services.

A key problem with concierge-style services is that access to them tends to be restricted. But it doesn’t sound like their costs are the only factor for this exclusiveness. In a way, concierge-level service may not be that much more expensive than standard service. It might be about concierge-style services being a differentiating factor, but even that doesn’t imply that it should be so restricted.

I’d argue that the level of quality of service that I’ve been describing (and rambling on about) can be found in just about any context. I’ve observed the work of librarians, gas station attendants, police officers, street vendors, park rangers, and movers who provided this level of service. While it may difficult to sustain high-quality service, it does scale and it does seem to make life easier for everyone.

Activism and Journalism

In yesterday’s “Introduction to Society” class, we discussed a number of things related to activism, journalism, labour issues, and even Apple and Foxconn (along with slacktivism, Kony 2012, mass media, moral entrepreneurs, and Wal-Mart).

This discussion was sparked, in part, from a student’s question:

What good are the finding the sociologists obtain if the sociologists themselves are passive to the issues observed?

Very good question, and I feel that the discussion we’ve had in class scratched the surface of the issue.

My response could have related to my current work, which I have mentioned in class on several occasions. These days, an important part of my work outside of the Ivory Tower has to do with community organizations. More specifically, I do fieldwork for Communautique, whose mission is to:

Support civic participation by promoting information literacy, appropriation of information and communications technologies and contribution to their development.

Though I’m no activist, I see a clear role for activism and my work directly supports a form of activism. The goal here is social change, toward increased participation by diverse citizens. Thankfully, this is no “us/them” campaign. There’s no demonization, here. Many of us may disagree on a course of action, but inclusion, not confrontation, is among this work’s main goals.

I sincerely think that my work, however modest, may have a positive impact. Not that I delude myself into thinking that there’s a “quick fix” to problems associated with social exclusion. But I see a fairly clear bifurcation between paths and I choose one which might lead to increased inclusiveness.

I didn’t talk about my work during out classroom discussion. Though I love to talk about it, I try to make these discussions as interactive as possible. Even when I end up talking more than anybody else, I do what I can not to lead the discussion in too specific a direction. So, instead of talking about Communautique, we talked about Foxconn. I’m pretty sure I brought it up, but it was meant as a way to discuss a situation with which students can relate.

Turns out, there was an ideal case to discuss many of these themes. Here’s a message about this case that I just sent to the class’s forum:

Some of you might have heard of this but I hadn’t, before going to class. Sounds to me like it brings together several points we’ve discussed yesterday (activism, journalism, message dissemination, labour conditions, Foxconn, Apple…). It also has a lot to do with approaches to truth, which do tend to differ.


So… An episode of This American Life about Foxconn factories making Apple products contained a number of inaccurate things, coming from Mike Daisey, a guy who does monologues as stage plays. These things were presented as facts (and had gone through an elaborate “factchecking” process) and Daisey defends them as theatre, meant to make people react.


Here’s a piece about it, from someone who was able to pinpoint some inaccuracies: “An acclaimed Apple critic made up the details”.


The retraction from the team at This American Life took a whole show, along with an apparently difficult blogpost.

Interesting stuff, if you ask me. Especially since people might argue that the whole event may negatively impact the cause. After all, the problems of factory workers in China may appeal to more than people’s quickest emotional responses. Though I’m a big fan of emotions, I also think there’s an opportunity to discuss these issues thoughtfully and critically. The issue goes further than Apple or even Foxconn. And it has a lot to do with Wallerstein’s “World Systems Theory”.


Anyhoo… Just thought some of you may be interested.

Déjà 1 374 jours depuis mon retour à Montréal

Ma réponse à une discussion sur MtlUrb, à propos du retour à Montréal (dans le contexte de la perception d’un mouvement de personnes vers l’extérieur de Montréal).

Version courte: depuis que je suis revenu à Montréal, je me rends compte qu’il fait bon y vivre.

Je suis né à Montréal en 1972 et, à part des voyages occasionnels, je n’ai pas vécu ailleurs jusqu’en 1994. Par contre, de 1994 à 2008, j’ai déménagé un grand nombre de fois.

Le premier de ces déménagements était vers Lausanne (en Suisse), la ville natale de mon père. J’y ai passé quinze mois dans d’excellentes conditions. D’ailleurs, si la Suisse vivait une sorte de crise économique à l’époque, le climat social était généralement assez positif pour des gens comme moi. Je m’y suis donc senti à mon aise.

Lorsque j’ai quitté Lausanne pour revenir à Montréal, en août 1995, je suis passé d’un milieu où les questions financières étaient taboues à un contexte où les problèmes d’argent dominaient toutes les conversations. Mon impression du Québec en 1995 était celle d’un marasme profond, surtout causé par la situation économique. Ma propre situation financière était relativement positive (elle s’est détérioriée assez rapidement), mais je me sentais comme si tout allait mal pour tout le monde. Les indicateurs économiques de l’époque contredisent probablement mon impression, mais c’est là la grande différence entre une approche macroscopique quantitative et l’expérience vécue.

J’ai passé quelques temps à Montréal depuis ce temps, mais c’est aussi pendant ce temps que je me suis déplacé le plus souvent. Par exemple, de février 2002 à décembre 2007, j’ai effectué 20 déménagements, entre huit villes différentes (au Mali, au Nouveau-Brunswick, en Indiana, au Massachusetts et au Texas). Je revenais à Montréal au cours de plusieurs de ces déménagements. D’ailleurs, je conservais un pied-à-terre à Montréal. Mais je n’étais «installé» nulle part.

Le 26 avril 2008, j’ai effectué mon dernier déménagement en date et je n’ai pas bougé depuis. Je ne peux pas vraiment dire que je me suis installé définitivement à Montréal, mais ces 1374 jours passés dans ma ville natale constituent la plus longue période de stabilité, pour moi, depuis 1994.

C’est d’ailleurs depuis avril 2008 que je redeviens Québécois. Étape par étape.

Si je suis revenu à Montréal, c’est en grande partie pour des raisons personnelles. J’aurais pu aller ailleurs, mais c’était tout compte fait plus facile de revenir ici, du moins temporairement. J’avais même pensé utiliser mon retour à Montréal comme un tremplin vers autre chose (même pensé à Edmonton, à un certain moment; ou même à la Corée). Revenir à Montréal, c’était une «solution de facilité», une “fallback solution”.

Même si mon réseau social s’est distendu au cours de mes déplacements du début du siècle, je conservais plusieurs contacts ici qui m’ont aidé à me reconstruire un système de support social. Revenir à Montréal, c’était renforcer mes contacts avec certains membres de ma famille et avec plusieurs de mes amis.

D’ailleurs, en ce moment, une grande partie de mes contacts sur divers réseaux sociaux en-ligne (Twitter, Facebook, G+, LinkedIn…) sont locaux. Pas que je sois chauvin ou fermé, bien au contraire! En tant qu’anthropologue, je chéris la diversité humaine et j’ai beaucoup apprécié ma vie hors de Montréal. Mais la base locale des réseaux sociaux est un aspect non-négligeable, dans mon cas. Beaucoup de mes rapports sociaux s’effectuent en face-à-face et, hormis quelques cas particuliers, c’est le cas de la plupart des gens. Autrement dit, nous avons beau passer beaucoup de temps en-ligne, les rapports sociaux ont généralement un ancrage dans les interactions directes, locales, «en présentiel».

Ainsi, le fait de revenir à Montréal était, pour moi, une façon de renforcer la partie locale de mon propre réseau social. Je pouvais donc retrouver une vie sociale qu’il m’a été difficile d’avoir lorsque je bougeais d’une ville à l’autre.

D’autres motivations étaient plus professionnelles. Par exemple, ayant enseigné quelques cours à Concordia entre 2006 et 2007, il m’était plus facile d’obtenir des charges de cours à cette université qu’ailleurs dans le monde (même si j’ai eu l’occasion d’enseigner à sept autres endroits, dont cinq aux États-Unis). Évidemment, mon réseau social a aussi contribué aux motivations professionnelles de mon retour à Montréal en me dressant un portrait assez positif de la situation de l’emploi à Montréal. En d’autres termes, je suis revenu à Montréal sur l’impression, provenant de mon réseau social, qu’il était maintenant possible de bien vivre ici.

Cette impression ne s’est pas démentie.

Austin (ATX), capitale du Texas, est le dernier endroit où j’ai habité avant mon retour à Montréal. Contrairement à de nombreuses autres villes américaines à l’époque (fin 2007 et début 2008), ATX était plus ou moins épargnée par la crise financière. C’est du moins ce qui se disait dans les journaux et bars locaux. Même s’il est possible de prouver que la situation d’Austin était plus fragile que ce que l’opinion publique en disait, le fait est qu’il n’y avait pas de marasme économique à ATX à l’époque. Ayant connu un véritable marasme à Montréal en 1995, j’étais à l’affût des signes avant-coureurs d’un problème similaire à Austin douze ans plus tard. Le fait que les gens parlaient quotidiennement de la crise et de problèmes d’argent allait déjà dans le sens du marasme, même si ces mêmes conversations sortaient explicitement ATX de ce bourbier. «Les choses vont vraiment mal, en ce moment. Mais nous sommes épargnés pour l’instant.» Puisque ma propre situation à Austin n’était pas tout à fait reluisante, rien de très encourageant de ce côté. Il est fort possible qu’un manque d’enthousiasme face à la situation économique des États-Unis et du Texas ait été une particularité des milieux sociaux auxquels je me mêlais, à l’époque. Néanmoins, tant dans le milieu universitaire (qui venait de connaître des coupures drastiques) que dans celui plus populaire des brasseurs de bière, un optimisme bien prudent semblait régner.

Le contraste, peu après mon retour à Montréal, était assez flagrant. Malgré divers problèmes économiques, les milieux dans lesquels je me suis (ré)inséré faisaient figure d’oasis de paix, en comparaison avec mon expérience à Austin en 2007–2008 (ou à Montréal en 1995). Ceux qui parlaient de leur situation financière faisaient rarement référence à un problème plus large. Plusieurs personnes quittaient des emplois stables pour se lancer dans divers projets plus risqués. Sans que l’on puisse parler d’euphorie, régnait ici une atmosphère plutôt paisible, face à la situation financière. C’était pas l’âge d’or du Québec (que l’on situe plus facilement lors de la période entre Expo 67 et les JO de 1976).

Il est fort possible que, tout comme celle que j’ai eu d’Austin, mon impression de Montréal provenait des milieux dans lesquels j’œuvrais. Entre autres, il y avait une certaine effervescence dans ce que j’appelle «la scène geek montréalaise». C’est parmi eux que se trouvaient certains des plus idéalistes, qui misaient une partie de leurs vies pour des projets qui leur tenaient à cœur. En 2008, il n’était pas rare pour des membres de cette «scène» de se faire proposer des contrats assez lucratifs sans qu’ils aient besoin d’effectuer des recherches approfondies. Les acteurs du Web, par exemple, trouvaient facilement quelque-chose à faire, sans avoir à chercher bien loin. On parle d’un groupe assez restreint (je l’estimerais à environ 500 personnes), mais la possibilité que j’avais de m’y insérée a contribué assez largement à mon impression de Montréal. D’ailleurs, depuis mon retour, j’ai obtenu plusieurs contrats très intéressants sans avoir à chercher bien activement.

L’autre sphère d’action de ma vie montréalaise, le milieu universitaire, me donnait aussi un certain air de sérénité. S’il y a très peu de postes permanents dans ce milieu, à l’échelle du continent, il m’a été possible de donner de plus en plus de cours, à Concordia. En fait, pour la première fois de ma carrière, je peux dire que j’ai commencé à me tailler une place dans ce milieu. Sans devenir indispensable et tout en gardant un fort sens critique face au milieu académique, je suis plus à l’aise avec mon statut de «chargé de cours + travailleur autonome». D’ailleurs, petit-à-petit, je commence à trouver plus de liens entre les deux dimensions de ma vie professionnelle. Assez confortable, comme situation. Pour moi, ça vaut plus qu’un gros salaire.

Puisque la situation financière du lieu où je vis a beaucoup d’implications sur mon expérience en cet endroit, c’est une bonne occasion de préciser ma pensée là-dessus. Ma propre situation financière a évidemment un impact important sur ma vie, compte tenu d’un système social qui accorde énormément d’importance à l’argent. Mais, ce qui m’affecte le plus, c’est le «climat social» dans lequel je vis. Un marasme ambiant a un impact négatif plus grand sur moi que des problèmes financiers. D’autre part, lorsque l’atmosphère générale est plutôt positive et que les questions d’argent font rarement leur apparition dans les conversations que je peux avoir avec les gens autour de moi, je m’en porte mieux même si ma situation personnelle n’est pas très reluisante.

Et c’est probablement un bon point où terminer cette réflexion au sujet de mon retour à Montréal. Je suis revenu à Montréal (et j’y demeure depuis près de quatre ans) parce qu’il fait bon y vivre.

Du moins, c’est la partie impersonnelle. Pour l’aspect personnel, ce sera pour un autre jours.