I am the author of this story, and I’ve had another stunning interaction with our telco.
It’s September, and the new iPhone is about to be released, so many retailers are having a fire sale on the older models. My mother decided it was time to upgrade her dinosaur to a now-obsolete iPhone 14. I convinced her to add it to her bill so she could pay it off monthly.
[Provider] also has a price-match policy, and that day, another retailer was advertising the same device for $200 cheaper. I’m authorised on my mother’s account, so I offered to call to set it up.
Consultant: “The account will need to be set up as direct debit/autopay to add the new phone.”
Me: “Is that necessary? I didn’t need to last time. And as a pensioner, Mum isn’t overly happy using direct debit.”
She placed me on hold, checked, and came back.
Consultant: “Your mother’s current plan is eligible, so direct debit won’t be necessary. And as a bonus, she will keep her pensioner discount!”
The order proceeded, and we finished the call. (Those familiar with the provider know they switched to direct debit a while ago and there is no other option, but we weren’t told that.)
Two weeks later, I asked my mum if her phone had arrived yet as I needed to set it up for her. It hadn’t, so I contacted [Provider]. They came back and advised me that the order had been cancelled because a direct debit agreement had not been set up — and nobody had contacted us to advise this before it was cancelled.
After trying to discuss it with a supervisor, I asked to lodge a complaint. (It’s worked twice before now, so why not?) The consultant took down the details and read it back as, “Customer not happy with direct debit”. I corrected him to ensure that it wasn’t just the direct debit but also the fact that nobody had contacted us to advise what the problem was, and we’d had to chase it up.
Twenty-four hours later my mother received an email.
Email: “Dear Customer: Regarding complaint [number], we are sorry you aren’t happy with our payment options. However, as direct debit is the only option we offer, we are not able to resolve your complaint to your satisfaction and consider the matter finalised.”
I saw red. I went straight to the ombudsman and explained what we had been through. The call took five minutes, and they promised we’d receive a callback shortly.
The next day, the [Provider] Ombudsman Complaints officer called back and clarified the details of our issue. I primarily explained that had someone called and said, “You need to do direct debit to get this deal,” we’d have done so.
The officer understood, apologised, and went to see what she could do.
Officer: “Unfortunately, the iPhone 14 is now completely unavailable. I cannot offer you the same deal.”
Me: “Surely, since this was not our mistake, there is something you can do to make it right?”
After much discussion that I’ll skip here, the offer was an iPhone 15, for the price of the 14.
Me: “But what about the price-match deal? We have screenshots of [Other Retailer]’s price on the day we took out the deal.”
The next offer was the iPhone 15 for the price of the 14, plus $200. But we’d lose the pensioner discount.
Me: “But we were told on the first call that we would still get the pensioner discount?”
The next offer included the discount, with thirty-six months credit, as well.
So, after all is said and done, my mother pays an extra $5 per month than she would have had everything gone through the first time, but she also received over $500 off a brand-new iPhone.
Moral of the story: all of our telcos are bad in Australia, but if you know the system and insist on your rights as a consumer — and wave an ombudsman stick if they don’t fix the problem — you will generally make out pretty good.
Related:
Isn’t It Literally Your Job To “Figure It Out”?
