I’m likely going to get some heat for this email, but here goes.
Meta’s new Ray-Ban display smart glasses are being released today, and I have some thoughts.
This spring, I bought Meta’s second-gen Ray-Bans and was instantly hooked. They let me snap photos hands-free while playing with my kids, get instant answers to their “What’s that bug?” questions, and even capture POV footage from the stage during my keynotes.
In short, I was a superfan. For about five weeks.
That’s how long it took for the glasses to simply stop working, after I’d used them about a dozen times. Over the next three months (!!!), I went on one of the most tedious and annoying customer service journeys I’ve ever encountered.
I usually don’t call out brands by name when discussing service failures, but in this case, I’m naming names because I don’t want anyone on this list having to jump through the same ridiculous hoops I did — especially since the Display glasses coming out today start around $800.
This April, on a flight home to Nashville, I saw a video on Instagram that said “Filmed with Meta Ray-Bans,” and I thought, “That’s cool!” I stopped by the Sunglass Hut in Terminal D at BNA and purchased a pair of glasses for $400. I also bought a $50 warranty because the saleswoman told me it would make it simple to replace the glasses at any Sunglass Hut for the next 12 months.
I immediately started wearing the glasses, capturing keynote footage and using the impressive audio for phone calls. I quickly bought multiple pairs to give as gifts to friends.
A month later, the glasses simply stopped working. They wouldn’t power on and wouldn’t connect to my app any longer. All of the “help” page links in the Meta AI app were broken links.
A few days later, I stopped by Sunglass Hut and explained what happened. The associate tried to find my warranty information on the computer, but couldn’t. She said, “Oh, these are from an airport store. A different company runs our airport stores. You’ll have to go there.” Annoying, but fine, since I’m literally always at the airport.
The next day, when I was back at Terminal D, I stopped in the store. The associate working didn’t know much about Meta glasses except that “we can’t really do anything with them.” I told her I didn’t know if it’s a charging issue with the case or a hardware issue with the glasses, and asked if I could try charging my glasses with a case at the store. “I don’t think we have any open ones,” she said. “Maybe try looking on our website?” 🙄
I asked about the warranty I purchased: Can’t I just pay $100 and replace these? “The warranty is for non-technical issues,” she explained. “The $100 replacement is only if they’re broken.”
I asked her if I could snap them in half, therefore creating a “non-technical issue,” and get a replacement. She looked uncomfortable, told me it’s for accidental damage, and suggested I “check with the manufacturer” for help. (As if visiting the website hadn’t occurred to me.)
27 days, three store visits, and four support emails after my glasses stopped working, I was advised to sign up for Ray-Ban’s “AfterSales” portal. Two days and two message exchanges later, I was told to call a 1-800 number to request a box to return my glasses:
At any point in the chain — the broken link in the Meta app, the store employees, the customer care emails —I could have been told about the AfterSales portal, or the service number.
Finally, one June 10, I received the return box to send in my glasses. I waited nearly a month to hear about the status of my return before getting frustrated. I called the 1-800 number multiple times.
I began to suspect the company wants people to forget about the glasses they’ve submitted so they don’t have to replace them. Nothing else can explain this level of service failure.
Finally, on July 14 — after my third call to check the status of the glasses returned June 10 (which broke on May 4), I received an email with a code to replace them with a new pair online. Two weeks after that order (which is forever in the world of e-commerce, obviously!), my new glasses arrived.
By my count, replacing my glasses took three store visits, six calls to two different customer support numbers, eleven emails, and signing up for one portal (which I still can’t figure out the purpose for). What percentage of customers do you think give up along this process? Most of them, I’m guessing!
If you want superfans, the work doesn’t stop at launch — it starts when something breaks.
Meta chose to partner with Luxottica (the parent company of both Ray-Ban and Sunglass Hut) for their smart glasses, knowing full well that their tech support is non-existent and their customer support is spotty.
Meta made $18.3 billion dollars — with a B — in profit in its most recent quarter, on revenue of $47.5 billion. It’s a shame it didn’t earmark any of those funds to support customers purchasing its AI glasses.
While “superintelligent” AI may be the promise of Meta’s future, the reality of the now is that if the products you buy prove to be faulty (like the glitch-filled public demo of the new Meta Display shades earlier this month), you’re on your own, kid.
Your customers aren’t just benchmarking you against your direct competitors — they’re benchmarking you against everyone. However, in this instance, we can look at a pretty direct competitor. When Apple products malfunction, you take them to the Geinus Bar. Boom — instant support. It’s not a hard model. And, one that Meta certainly could have copied.
Whether you’re launching a brand-new product or a slight tweak on the thing you’ve been selling for years, remember that post-purchase support for your customers is just as critical (and sometimes more critical!) than those pre-purchase touchpoints. If your service isn’t ready for primetime yet, neither is your product.
If you choose to buy the new Meta Ray-Ban Display glasses, don’t say I didn’t warn you! I’ll be waiting for Apple or Google to release an option that I know comes with post-purchase support. 🙂
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