I love my Sony Vaio laptop. But I loathe Sony's new (and definitely unimproved) technical support service. The new system has fallen for Cole's first law of system design: if something works well, wreck it.

We've all heard horror stories about automated telephone support lines that force you to navigate through endless menus or which leave you hanging on for ages while an electronic version of Greensleeves assaults your ears. But frustrating as these systems are, at least in the end you do get to speak to a real human being. Not so with Sony's, because it uses a computer to filter any contact with its support staff.

It wasn't always like this. At the end of 2004, my two-year old Vaio was overheating and then shutting down. "No problem," I thought, "I've got an extended warranty." So I called the technical support number, pressed "9" on my phone keypad and spoke to a Sony support agent. My Vaio was collected for repair and returned within a week. Here was a system that worked smoothly, efficiently and effectively. And then someone at Sony decided to screw it all up.

A few months ago, my Vaio's LCD screen died. I called Sony's technical support, but this time encountered a new system.

"If you want to open a new case," said an automated voice, "press one. If you already have a case and want to talk to your dedicated Sony agent, press two." I pressed one. "Enter your Vaio's 15-digit serial number, which is at the bottom of your computer," said the voice. So I did but then the voice said: "Sorry, your Vaio is out of warranty. Please call this [premium rate] number for technical support." Then it cut me off.

"But I've got an extended warranty! Let me speak to someone!" I shouted. I tried the system again but got the same result. The computer's decision was final. I was stuffed.

To cut a long story short, I had to play the journalist's card and a kind soul from Sony PR got the Vaio support team to call me and arrange repairs. But what if I hadn't been a journalist? And what if I was visually disabled and couldn't read the serial number or found it difficult to tap 15 digits into a handset?

Or what if I had a physical condition like RSI and couldn't lift my Vaio to access the serial number? And which idiot designed a telephone support system that doesn't give you the option of speaking to someone? I put all these points to a nice lady from Vaio support in a follow-up call months ago. I've just tried Sony's support line and the dreaded system is still in place. Get rid of it, Sony - your customers deserve better than this.

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