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Trains, and those responsible for them, have always come in for

plenty of flak. We sneered at the British Rail sandwich; indeterminate

of taste, devoid of freshness, down at heel in presentation - a sorry

symbol of all that was wrong with the nationalised railways. But at

least we laughed at it.

Today the sense of humour is wearing thin. Survey after survey shows

just how embittered are the regular customers of the railway, their

anger and frustration heightened by the absence of viable alternatives.

And yet train-users remain remarkably stoical about delays, breakdowns,

and grubby carriages. What really hacks them off is poor communication.

Just look at their faces when an insincere-sounding voice makes excuses

for the delay. But what possible excuse can there be for poor

communication in this, the age of communication?

I travel 400 miles a week with First Great Western, paying full

rate-card because I don’t qualify for or understand the impenetrable

maze of discounted fares. When I tried to find out about them the man at

the ticket office told me ’we don’t publish them’. How is it possible to

run a business when your customers cannot easily find out what your

prices are? I can’t buy a season ticket because, though I spend a

four-figure sum with them a year, I travel twice a week, not ten times.

And yet Great Western treats my regular journeys as one-off transactions

rather than parts of a possible lifelong arrangement that could benefit

us both. Why should they do otherwise?

They have no idea what my travel requirements are.

It would not be difficult to find out. I have communicated with them

(usually begging for compensation for a late arrival at Paddington) and

they have my e-mail and home addresses. But our communication is

one-way.

This irritates me almost enough to take the plane instead - despite the

rip-off air fares.

Curiously, First Great Western has some very fine communicators right

under its nose. They are not high-flying corporate affairs experts, but

the people who serve breakfast, lunch and dinner on their trains. Apart

from being unfailingly courteous and good-humoured (you try doling out

bacon and eggs on a heaving roller-coaster at 7am), this lot know their

regular customers and treat them accordingly. The regulars end up

forgiving all manner of cock-ups because the staff are sympathetic.

The company clearly lays great store by its people and the way they deal

with the fare-paying customer. No doubt it is trying to get it right,

but it lets itself down by not communicating as well as it could.

This may not be the end of the world. But poor communication in a world

increasingly dependent on active and effective communication can mean

precisely that. Not just grumpy customers but dead ones. Only last week

the Southall crash inquiry concluded that, while the driver must take

his share of the blame, First Great Western was guilty of ’serious and

reprehensible failures’ of communication. Two safety systems that should

have been in operation were either faulty or switched off. Someone must

have thought, it’ll be alright. But it wasn’t.

Which shows that, nowadays, communication isn’t just one aspect of

conducting a business, it is every aspect.