Repair or Replace Redux: A Costly Tragicomedy of Information Errors
I ended up paying over $1000 to repair my recumbent exercise bike. Several information errors contributed to a costly tragicomedy that locked me into an expensive decision cycle. Not only did I pay $384 more than necessary to fix my bike, but also I was left wondering whether I would have decided to stick with the gym for my exercising if I had all the correct information from the beginning. This tragicomedy was a stark reminder of the value in carefully examining the decision chain for its weakest link and strengthening that weakest link as much as is practical.
In the first episode of this tragicomedy, “Repair or Replace? How Bad Information Can Derail Decision Quality“, I described how an egregiously low cost estimate from a customer service agent convinced me to repair my exercise bike rather than buy a new one. I coped with the broken decision chain by finding all the reasons to appreciate using the exercise bikes at my gym. Still, that broken bike in the garage nagged at me, demanding action. So, I eventually dedicated time to a second decision cycle.
In this second episode of this tragicomedy, I discovered that the repair technician made an error that further compromised my decision between repairing or replacing the bike. The repair technician gave me the wrong diagnosis. My drive motor was fine! I needed a much more expensive new flywheel. Fooled by his glowing confidence, I never questioned or even examined the repair technician’s quick diagnosis of the issue. It took a more rigorous repair technician to properly assess my bike’s problem and provide correct information.
The Perceived Risk of Buying A New Exercise Bike
My path to a second repair technician started with an investigation into buying a new bike. Since the $200 I spent on the first repair visit was a sunk cost, I could start my decision cycle all over again assuming that $200 was the price of getting a diagnosis of my bike’s problem.
The options for new exercise bikes are mind-boggling. I spent considerable time understanding the relationships between price and features, learning the different brands, and assessing my bare minimum needs. After I identified my top choices, I sampled Amazon reviews on my top picks. What I found horrified me. While aggregate ratings were generally okay, the lowest individual ratings set off huge alarm bells. Here is one example review from a 1-star rating for a $499 recumbent bike with 1217 total ratings and an average of 4.4 stars:
Reviewed in the United States on July 16, 2024. Verified Purchase
I ride 6 days a week, average speeds between 20-25, then down to 15 mph. This bike could not handle that for more than 14-15 months. It makes terrible clicking sounds and the right pedal is malfunctioning. I really liked this bike so I contacted Niceday direct because, even though they say you can through Amazon, I could not. 3-4 months later still no reply to my email. I really wanted to stick with this bike and get it repaired but with such TERRIBLE CUSTOMER SERVICE and being completely ignored that isn’t going to happen. For the first year 4-5 stars BUT unfortunately that is not the end of the story …”
Several of the 1-star reviews complained about lack of support, but this particular review struck a chord with me. In recent years I have dealt with a persistent sequence of failing, malfunctioning devices and appliances, some recently purchased. I now have a standing fear (and often expectation) that replacement products will not last as long as my reliable originals. So already burdened with the fear that the true cost of purchasing a new bike is the purchase price plus imminent, new repair or replacement costs, I could not fathom being stuck with no customer support. Complaints like these made purchasing a new bike a non-starter.
The 1-star reviews were typically around 5% of reviews, and the vast majority of reviews were 4 or 5s. However, that 5% chance of failure was too costly for me given the economic, logistical, and even psychological cost of having to deal with a bad outcome. In other words, my expected cost for buying a new bike was intolerably high.
I pruned the “replace” alternative from my decision tree.
A Repair Alternative
As I researched new bikes, I also told my tale to one of the members of the staff of my gym. She suggested that I talk to the on-site maintenance person about repairing my exercise bike. He opened my eyes to an entire industry dedicated to servicing exercise equipment, including the supply of refurbished parts. I failed to convince him to fix the bike for me, but I discovered independent repair technicians who conduct house visits.
This world felt like a revelation. I was peeved about receiving poor cost information, so I was primed to switch to a repair alternative. With my diagnosis in hand, I could just ask an alternative repair shop to order my part and come prepared to do the fix (unlike the company technician who came unprepared to replace a drive motor). Once I ruled out buying a new bike, I made the phone calls to identify the lowest cost repair service.
Unfortunately, my revelation soon melted into the fresh shock of the finale of this costly tragicomedy of information errors.
A Costly Misdiagnosis
The new repair technician gaped at me in surprise when I explained why I was sure that I had a faulty drive motor. I felt my nervousness growing from the fertile soil of his skepticism that a proper diagnosis could come without opening up the bike for investigation. Like a kid waiting for the results of a test, I gulped hard as I watched this new, more conscientious technician carefully open the bike for scrutiny.
Perhaps to relieve my nerves, perhaps to justify my hovering, I peppered the technician with questions about exercise bikes and the repair industry. I stopped in stunned silence as this new technician contradicted the first technician. He announced that my drive motor was fine. Before I could spark some internal hope that he would go on to say he could fix the problem with a simple tweak, he regretfully informed me that the flywheel was broken. A waterfall of information errors flooded my countenance.
I swallowed just enough air to ask: “So how much does a flywheel cost?” The answer made me cry inside and laugh on the outside in true tragicomic form: “Around $300”. Ironically, this price matched the inflated cost of the drive motor that forced me to abandon the repair path in the first decision cycle.
A Costly Finale of Information Errors
I was committed to the repair path at this point. The new technician assured me that everything else in the bike was in great shape, even the rubber belt that transmits the force of pedaling to the flywheel was not frayed after these 18 years of use. Sure I could shrug my shoulders at the now $533.66 total sunk cost as the high price of learning from this tragicomedy, but I refused to revisit the decision to spurn a new bike. I already settled that decision. I could only press forward in spite of the information errors. The total cost I originally estimated at $355.22 had now ballooned to a gut-wrenching $1041.65.
- First service call: $200 (all labor)
- Second service call: $333.66 ($189.00 labor, $139.66 parts and shipping and sales tax, $5 credit card transaction fee)
- Third service call: $507.99 ($100.00 labor, $402.99 parts and shipping and sales tax, $ 5 credit card transaction fee)
- Total damage to my finances and my ego: $1041.65
If I had started with the 3rd party repair service with its more robust diagnostic procedures, I would have paid around $657.99 with the first diagnostic visit costing $150. Thus the double dose of bad information cost me a net $383.66.
After my first ride on the fixed bike, I reviewed my journey. The satisfaction with getting my convenience back was greatly dampened by the excessive price I paid. I could not help wondering whether I placed too high a value on the convenience. Soon, I reassured myself that there will soon come days where I will be very grateful to have the option to exercise from my garage.
And I determined never to let this kind of tragicomedy of information errors happen again.
Lesson Learned: Strengthening the Decision Chain Through Validation
This costly tragicomedy served as a vivid reminder of how the quality of a decision depends on the strength of its weakest link. In this case, my decision chain failed at the links for gathering relevant information and evaluating alternatives. The incorrect cost estimates and poor diagnostics produced information errors that cascaded into unnecessary expenses and frustration.
Reflecting on the six elements of a quality decision highlights the challenges. I did not fully evaluate alternatives in the chain before making decisions; in one sense I did not know what I did not know. I was quite vulnerable to the information errors of others. Exploring multiple repair options would have greatly improved my decision quality, but I put too much trust in the maker of the exercise bike.
As a reminder, the decision chain consists of the following links:
- Clearly defined problem to solve.
- An understanding of values and priorities.
- Diverse and actionable alternatives.
- Accurate, relevant information while validating its sources.
- Sound reasoning for evaluating options against values.
- A full commitment to an informed choice.
Each link deserves its own kind of validation, including talking through the decision process with a trusted person if possible and practical.
By deliberately fortifying every link in the chain, decisions come with greater confidence.
