With a little help from my MVP friends at Microsoft

By Hiawatha Bray
Special to boston.com

Suppose you're having a spot of bother with a Microsoft computer program. What do you do? Place a phone call to a Microsoft tech support expert, or buttonhole some guy on the Internet?

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They're called Microsoft MVPs -- Most Valuable Professionals. They're some of the most knowledgeable software experts around. They spend hundreds of hours each year fielding questions from around the world, sharing their skill with less-sophisticated Microsoft customers. And for this, Microsoft pays them not a dime. All they get are some software discounts, and an invitation to an annual MVP party. And for a while last year, some genius inside Microsoft thought even this was too much.

For some reason, Microsoft figured it could do without people like Chris Scharff. He's a Texas computer consultant who made a name for himself hanging around on Internet mailing lists devoted to Microsoft's Exchange groupware software. When he volunteered to join the MVP program a year ago, Microsoft gladly took him on, rewarding him with a watch and a subscription to the company's TechNet information service for computer programmers. "I already had a watch and access to a TechNet subscription," says Scharff, "but it was a nice thought." Besides, he adds, "I do it because I enjoy it."

There's a lot to like -- hundreds of cries for help pouring into Usenet newsgroups like microsoft.public.exchange.setup, one of the places Scharff hangs out. Confused users post their questions and wait for Scharff or a fellow MVP to publish a reply. Sometimes the answer comes in minutes; sometimes it takes a day. Often the answer comes from another visitor to the newsgroup, a non-MVP who's looking for help with a different problem. And because Deja.com indexes all Usenet messages, you can search the Microsoft newsgroups and often find that an MVP answered your question back in 1998.

There are hundreds of similar Microsoft newsgroups, devoted to virtually every product the company makes. Standing watch over them are the MVPs, who purge the newsgroups of get-rich-quick spam messages, enforce basic standards of decorum, and above all, find solutions to people's problems.

About five years ago Microsoft realized it had a good thing going, and set up the MVP program as a way to honor non-employees with a knack for solving customer problems. Members got a few inexpensive perks, including an "MVP Buddy," a Microsoft engineer who provided an extra dose of expertise.

They also got a dose of prestige. Writer Herb Tyson says being an MVP has helped him sell a few extra copies of his computer books. "Occasionally also, it means somebody will visit my Web site, discover my music, and buy one of my CDs (I'm a singer/songwriter) ... and that's nice, too."

There's no telling how many millions of dollars Microsoft saved by having some of their brightest customers give away their expertise. But last October the program almost became a dead giveaway. In a move that stunned many MVPs, Microsoft announced it was scrapping the program. In the future, Microsoft employees would answer newsgroup questions.

"The MVPs were pretty pissed when they killed the program," says Chip Pearson, a Kansas City computer consultant who's an MVP for Microsoft's spreadsheet Excel. "Not so much because of the decision, but because of the way it was carried out ... There was no 'thank you for your help over the years,' just a 'good bye, and don't let the door hit you on the way out.'"

Pearson and many others suspect that the company was spurred by court decisions requiring Microsoft to provide an array of fringe benefits to temporary employees. According to this theory, Microsoft feared that hundreds of MVP people would be entitled to the same treatment.

But Microsoft spokeswoman Carlene Schmaj has a far simpler explanation -- somebody screwed up. Because the MVPs were volunteers who'd been providing free tech support help even before they joined the program, Microsoft assumed they'd continue to do so even if the program was closed down. Then the company could save the miniscule cost of the program.

Incredibly, Microsoft didn't realize how popular the program was. Schmaj says the firm regularly ran studies to gauge the effectiveness of its customer service systems, but somehow nobody thought to take a look at the MVP program. "We didn't have it on our radar screen," she says.

They soon did, after a torrent of critical press coverage and thousands of angry e-mails. Three days later, the MVP program was back. Pearson, Tyson, Scharff and 600 other volunteers log on daily, eager to tackle even my most ignorant questions. Their answers sometimes take awhile, but at least I don't have to listen to Musak while I wait. And as Microsoft belatedly realized, their price is unbeatable.

Hiawatha Bray's digitalMASS software column runs every Monday. He is also a technology reporter for The Boston Globe, and writes his Upgrade column every Thursday. His e-mail address is bray@globe.com.