I've noticed that whenever I'm on a call with a customer service rep who's clearly reading from a standard issue script, my brain just sort of checks out. You know that feeling, right? It's like talking to a wall that's been programmed to say "I'm sorry for the inconvenience" every thirty seconds. You can almost hear the sound of their eyes scanning the monitor, looking for the next pre-approved sentence to throw your way. It's frustrating because it feels like the human on the other end isn't actually there.
It's not that the words are inherently bad. Most of the time, the people who write these things are experts in communication or PR. They're trying to be polite, thorough, and professional. But the problem is the soul—or the lack of it. When people stick too closely to a standard issue script, they lose the ability to actually listen. They're just waiting for their turn to read the next line.
Why we fall back on them anyway
Let's be real for a second: we use scripts because they're safe. If you're a manager and you have fifty people making cold calls or handling complaints, you're terrified that one of them is going to say something crazy. A standard issue script acts like a safety net. It ensures that nobody promises a free lifetime supply of the product or accidentally insults someone's grandmother. It's a way to maintain "consistency," which is a word corporate offices love to throw around.
But consistency is often the enemy of connection. When you're the one on the phone, or the one standing at the counter, you don't want a consistent experience; you want a helpful one. You want to feel like the person you're talking to understands your specific, weird problem that doesn't quite fit into the "if/then" logic of a flowchart.
The fear factor
A lot of the time, the person using the script is just as bored as you are. They're often told that they'll get in trouble if they deviate from the text. I've talked to people in call centers who said they were literally docked points during performance reviews because they didn't use the exact "standard issue script" closing phrase. That's wild, right? We've turned humans into biological AI before the actual AI was even ready to take over.
When people are afraid to be themselves, they sound like robots. They lose their natural inflection. Their voice gets that weird, rhythmic "customer service" lilt that sounds like a doorbell chime. It's a defense mechanism. If they just read the words, they can't be blamed if the customer is still angry.
The uncanny valley of corporate speech
There's this thing called the "uncanny valley" usually used in robotics or CGI, where something looks almost human but not quite, and it makes us feel creepy. I think there's a verbal version of that. When a salesperson uses a standard issue script but tries to inject "fake" personality into it, it's even worse than the monotone robot.
You know the one. They use your name way too often. "So, John, I see here that you've been a loyal customer, John. And let me tell you, John, we really value your business." Nobody talks like that in real life. If a friend did that at dinner, you'd ask them if they were having a stroke. But because it's in the script, the rep thinks they're building rapport. In reality, they're just making the customer want to hang up faster.
Why it kills sales
If you're in sales, relying on a standard issue script is basically a death sentence for your conversion rates. People can smell a pitch from a mile away. The second you start reading that rehearsed opening line—you know, the one where you ask how their day is going before they even know who you are—their guard goes up.
The best salespeople I've ever met don't use scripts. They use frameworks. They know the three or four points they need to hit, but the way they get there depends entirely on the person they're talking to. They listen more than they speak. A script is a monologue; a conversation is a dialogue. You can't have a dialogue if your half of the conversation was written three months ago by a marketing team in a different time zone.
How to break the habit
So, if we agree that the standard issue script is a bit of a disaster for human connection, how do we fix it? It's not about just winging it and hoping for the best. That's how you end up with those "crazy" situations managers are afraid of.
The middle ground is something I like to call "guided improvisation." Instead of giving someone a full page of text to read, you give them a few bullet points.
- Acknowledge the problem: (Don't just say "I'm sorry," explain that you get why it's annoying).
- Explain the why: (Tell them what happened behind the scenes).
- Offer the fix: (Give them the options we have available).
When you give someone bullet points instead of a standard issue script, you're forcing them to use their own brain to construct the sentences. This naturally brings back their personality. They use their own slang, their own rhythm, and most importantly, they actually have to listen to the other person to make the bullet points make sense.
Trusting your people
The biggest hurdle to ditching the script is trust. You have to trust that the people representing your brand are smart enough to talk to other humans. And honestly? If you don't trust them to do that, you probably hired the wrong people or you haven't trained them well enough.
It's much better to have an employee who occasionally makes a small mistake but sounds like a genuine person than to have one who is perfectly "on brand" but drives customers insane with their robotic tone. Most people are pretty forgiving of a mistake if they feel like they're being treated with actual empathy. They are not forgiving of someone who just repeats a standard issue script while their house is figuratively burning down.
The power of the "un-scripted" moment
Some of the best customer service stories you've ever heard—the ones that go viral—happen because someone ignored the standard issue script. It's the guy at the pet food company who sends flowers when he finds out a customer's dog died. It's the flight attendant who makes a joke over the intercom instead of reading the safety briefing like a funeral dirge.
Those moments stand out because they're rare. We've become so used to the "standard issue" way of doing things that when someone acts like a real person, it feels like a revelation. It builds more loyalty than any "loyalty program" ever could.
If you're stuck in a role where you have to use a script, try to find the cracks. Find the places where you can be yourself. And if you're the one writing the scripts? Please, for the love of all that is holy, stop. Give your team the freedom to talk. They might surprise you.
At the end of the day, we're all just people trying to get through our tasks and solve our problems. A standard issue script might look good on a training manual, but it's a barrier between two people. If we want to actually communicate, we have to be willing to put the paper down and just talk. It's messier, sure, but it's a whole lot more effective. Plus, it's just a nicer way to spend your day. Nobody wants to be a robot, and nobody wants to talk to one. Let's just be humans instead.