Much like its name, FedEx Office, the store formerly known as Kinkos and FedEx-Kinkos, seems to be in a perennial state of reorganization and flux. Much of the very dated and often refurbished location on Meeting Street in Providence, Rhode Island is unused and no longer houses any viable service. For a business that prides itself on its organization and punctuality, (“The World on Time”) FedEx Office feels neither global or of this time. Nearly half of the location’s floor space is occupied by computer workstations behind a glass partition that appears like a mausoleum from a bygone era, when computers were not an everyday commodity. Boxes stacked in several stations serve as storage for the location’s new identity as a printing and shipping outlet – a combination that always seemed a bit awkward.
By stark contrast, Hope Bindery, a one-room studio owned an operated by a cranky craftsman, a quirky RISD alum named Jim, is bursting at the seams. Located deep in the heart of a mill-turned-studio in Pawtucket, the location boasts no illuminated sign but instead, a hand scrawled note taped to the stairs reading: “Hope Bindery: Third Floor Fourth Door on Your Left.” As one approaches the space, the smell of book glue and hot metal type grows stronger. Once in the studio itself at times this combination can be a bit overwhelming. Inside the space, there is no customer area, no division between you (the client) and the craftsman. You are in his workspace, becoming part of the work. If you hope to have Jim practice his magic for you, you had better be able to speak the language of bookbinding and design.
Back in the quietly humming halogen lit expanse of the FedEx Office, you enter feeling instantly alienated. A small counter that hasn’t seen use in years, installed when an attendant was needed to aid customers in operating the floor printers and machines, is bestowed with a small sign and arrow marked with the words: “Please See the Next Register,” although not one is in sight for twenty feet in any direction. When opening a project, (which I have done far too many times during my tenure at RISD) the black and purple clad employee, who appears to have had little more training in paper goods than any retail worker (not their fault), follows the guide of a computer system instructing them to enter paper type, quantity, and any other specifications an order may have. The system is effective, standardizes the process, and makes for an efficient and transparent transaction. However, the moment the client attempts to deviate from the common, preordained path, the shallowness of the protocol is revealed. FedEx Office is not a “have it your way” kind of organization. Corporate standards like this are pervasive throughout FedEx Office.
It is for this reason that essentially all of the “work” autonomy has been transferred from the hands of the unreliable and unskilled employee, (who remains nameless because each visit to this particular branch seems to yield an entirely new staff), to the machine and its touch screen interface. The photocopiers, which just like the computer workstations sitting in mirror positions across the floor, were a revolutionary piece of office equipment at their inception. But now, the entire institution of FedEx Office seems dated and unsure of its position and role in the modern world post-print.
Observing the scene from afar, I see several customers, heads down, punching inputs into the dimly lit screens while employees look on, bored, eyes tired from the artificial light. The only employee who seems slightly amused is the man behind the counter on the “FedEx” side of things. Queing up in front of his station in an impromptu fashion is a long line of customers holding various sized packages nervously looking at the clock, trying to make the afternoon pick up or drop and rush on to their next appointment. The line itself is a very peculiar device. FedEx Office has a designated line area, complete with birthday cards, candy, and other diversions, it sits empty because it is placed in front of the “Office” counters and not the “FedEx” area. More than once I see a customer enter and pause, confused as they study the “Form Line Here” sign before deciding to follow the pattern of their fellow customers to the left. It is a testament to either the rigid conformity of FedEx Office retail design or the lack of motivation or power of the employees to change any of these inconsistencies in their retail location. (Even if they make absolutely no sense!)
While FedEx Office assumes very little pre-knowledge of its customers, apart from the ability to understand basic printing techniques (the same standards they seem to have for their employees), Hope Bindery is the polar opposite. If you manage to find the location at all, which has no visible marking apart from the aforementioned handmade sign inside of the building, you enter a truly collaborative workspace that demands acumen not only in printing and book-building but also a patience for the artist’s space and lack of consistent experience. When coming to Jim with a project you need to be ready to negotiate and understand his process on everything from typefaces (for hot printing) to book cloth choices. Unlike the rational and preorganized process at FedEx Office, meetings with Jim are a chaotic search for pencils, a scrap of paper to write on, and rummaging through type specimen books that look museum worthy. Furthermore, you are all-at-once in his office, workspace, storeroom and front desk. Projects are shared, gripes are heard, a personal connection to his work is forged and your contribution is felt. Consultation and his opinion is a given (and should be welcomed) and the customer is rarely right. In this environment, despite its mess and disorganization, it is clear that he is the master and the machines are merely a means to an end. Finally, when a deal is struck, the onus is on you to provide the record of what is to be made. So each time I have entered with a perfect book to be letter-pressed or bound I find myself searching his studio for a clean piece of table to place the neat white pages on while simultaneously making do with whatever piece of cardboard is provided to write on.
Following my most recent visit to his studio, I realized something very different and new. As I entered with a pen, notepad, type samples, and cardboard box for my book, I realized that Jim’s process had actually conditioned me to work better and take more ownership of the knowledge, collaboration, and creation of my work. The process was efficient, elegant. It was a successful partnership of designer and artisan. I understood his craft and he understood my need for clarity, there was no confusion, the customer became a partner.
Of course, this is never and will never be the case at FedEx Office. At FedEx, the human plays a lesser role and is more expendable than the non-human. As I said before, I have never worked with the same person twice and I don’t believe that they have ever purchased a new printer during my time as a client. There is no opportunity for a learning environment or for a relationship between client and employee to form. In this model, FedEx Office is responsible for fewer people learning a limited range of tasks, which mostly consist of maintenance and transaction activities. This creates a consistent experience but feels oddly detached from the creation of printed matter, a practice that for a designer is akin to an architect overseeing the construction of building.
While FedEx Office is the leader in the production of office and consumer print materials and is now a central retail hub for one of the world’s largest shipping conglomerates, it feels extremely dated and out of sync with any sort of desirable modern experience. Perhaps it is because the printing industry is shifting so dramatically and is quickly vanishing from many parts of life. In stark contrast, the experience and order of Hope Bindery, which undisputedly almost replicates the artisanal work of a 19th century craftsman, manages to generate the type of mutual understanding and collaborative cooperation in the production process that the corporate retail world should actually embrace as a practice of delivering better services, not just the most convenient.