I’m sure that nearly all of you will relate to the fact that, if you’re employed anywhere near the computer industry, you are a de facto tech support technician for your non-techie family and friends.  You may even find yourself occasionally giving pro-bono technical support to friends of friends, or other strangers to whom you have at best a tenuous social connection.  Many people in this position either take on the role of “free tech support provider” begrudgingly, or find ways to duck out of doing it at all.  There’s a half-gajillion stories on the web you could read on the topic;  here’s a couple I found from PC World and Network Computing, and a couple of comment forums on the topic from Slashdot.

Personally, I don’t mind being in such a position.  Granted, my PC tech skills are pretty low compared to most anyone in the professional computer industry (I work more on the business side of things than the tech side), but I know a bit more than the average user and seem to have plenty enough knowledge to impress my parents when I get near their PC.  (Tip: even if you hate providing free tech support, I strongly recommend helping Mom out when she needs it.  Try to “teach her to fish” when you can, instead of “giving the fish away”; but in any case, it’s a good idea to keep Mom happy with her expensive email and picture toy.)   Whenever I can help fix a problem, I receive gratitude and some elevation in my pride;  and when I am confronted with a tech problem that I don’t know the answer to, I end up learning more about it and thus adding to my knowledge base.  Fortunately I have been able to keep the pace of “support calls” pretty slow so I’m not overwhelmed or burned out by it.  Many others however cannot claim the same thing, and end up charging their friends (and even their own mothers!) for the help they provide or simply not helping at all.

The holiday season being upon us now has reminded me again of this modern social phenomenon.  Recently I enjoyed a very pleasant dinner at an excellent restaurant, courtesy of the company for whom my wife works, which was attended by a select group of high-level employees and their guests.  It was partly a holiday gathering, and partly a year-end ‘thank you’ to those attending.  The whole evening was very pleasant – great food, great wine, great company and great conversation were enjoyed by all.  After about 2-1/2 hours I thought that I might actually get through the evening without any conversation about where I worked;  I was surprised it didn’t come up earlier, but once other conversation had taken off I didn’t think we’d come back such standard ice-breaker topics.  Alas, sometime between the main course and dessert, I was asked by one of the pleasant people at our table, “so where do you work, Jeremy?”  To which I replied, with as much modesty as I could convey, “Microsoft.”

During the nearly 5 years that I’ve worked for Microsoft, I’ve always been proud of where I worked.  However as time has gone on I’ve learned that – especially in the local area – not everyone I talk to is a fan of Microsoft. Some are even kind of hostile toward us.  I’ve thankfully been able to avoid any fisticuffs over the issue, and at the worst I’ve always been able to escape any pointed questions with “I’m sorry, I’ve not heard of that person/product/bug.  Have you tried calling tech support?...”.  So whenever I tell someone where I work I try to play it down as much as I can – not that I’m not proud of my company, but I don’t want to appear smug about it.  But no matter who asks or how I respond, what’s consistent in the reactions of all people who learn where I work, is the assumption that I, through my affiliation with such a legendary software development company, must be a Super Computer Genius.  A flattering assumption, and one I’d milk for all it’s worth, if I wouldn’t be so easily found out as a fraud were I to try to perpetrate such a front. 

The people with whom I was dining showed no hostility at all of course, and were very pleasant even when giving me some good-natured teasing about MS and our products.  And inevitably, I was asked for some computer-related advice, as if I were the most knowledgeable person in the room on the topic.  (I may well could have been;  there were some super biotech geniuses in the room, not sure about their computer skills.)   So I ended up: giving a personal recommendation on some laptop models to someone in the market for a new one;  talking a little about the next OS release (nothing that’s not already in the press, Bill/Steve/Brian, I swear…);  pointing some folks to the Microsoft.com site for some free downloads;  preaching the Updates and Patches mantra;  and giving a plug for the new Photo Story 3 download for XP/WMP10, which my wife had used to make some work presentations that dazzled them earlier in the week. 

I suffered no tech-heavy “support calls” as many of you have undoubtedly dealt with, for which I was grateful.  But, as is common with us Microsoft employees in social situations outside of work, I was serving as a Microsoft representative, and I did my best to represent us as the good and helpful people that we really are.  We’re OK with answering questions about computers, our products, and technology in general.  And when we don’t know the answer, we’re OK with admitting it, as long as we’re willing to help get the answer.  Of course, that usually means pointing them to Tech Support.

Happy Holidays!