Insights

Space Mountain is closed at Disney World today. How do I know this while I’m sitting at home on a couch with what I assume is the flu? Email. That’s all. Just a simple little email. But there’s a reminder in that for businesses: word-of-mouth reaches pretty far and fast these days. I’m 1400 miles away from Orlando right now, and it took approximately two seconds for failure and frustration to reach me.

Word-of-mouth has always been a company’s biggest ally or largest nemesis based on whether or not it fulfills its brand promise. I have a friend who’s pretty pissed at Disney right now because they failed today. Disney’s brand promise is magic. They charge a premium price for submersing their park’s visitors in that magic. But today they didn’t deliver fantasy. They delivered reality: stuff breaks.

That’s cool. Stuff does break. And that’s why this isn’t a rant on perfection. It’s also not a rant on word-of-mouth, as you might have guessed. But today the flu trumps transition. In fact, it’s not a rant at all. It’s a simple question.

Why shouldn’t Disney refund my friend’s park entrance fee? And her airfare? And offer her a written apology promising to fulfill their brand promise if she ever decided to give them a second chance, which they understand probably won’t be the case?

I’ve been to a Disney property four times in my life. Three out of those four times I’ve spent more than 70% of my day either in line for or actually riding Space Mountain. You could say that I went to the Magic Kingdom just to ride Space Mountain. Know why you could say that? Because I did. And if it were closed, I can almost guarantee that I’d end up on the front page of the Orlando Sentinel the next day in a less-than-flattering news story that would undoubtedly include a mugshot. I’d make Clark Griswold look like St. Thomas of Aquinas.

So as absurd as it sounds, let me ask again: Why shouldn’t Disney go out of their way to make reparations?

“But, Cliff, c’mon. Seriously? There’s so much more to do than just Space Mountain. You want them to refund the whole thing just because one ride was closed?”

Yes.

Why? Tickets for four people were $1000. If she’d called last week and told Disney that she’d had an unexpected expense that month and she could only give them $600 for her tickets, what do you think the magical customer service rep on the other end of the phone would have said?

“Ha.” That’s what he would have said. “Ha, ha, ha. It doesn’t work like that. It’s all or nothing.”

All or nothing. What a concept. That’s the rule we – as consumers – follow every day in the marketplace. A BMW M5 starts at $85,000. I can’t give a salesman the keys to my crappy trade-in and a check for, say, $8000 and expect to drive that incredibly sweet ride off the showroom floor. Doesn’t work like that. All or nothing.

So why does it work for Disney? Or for major airline carriers when their cancelled or delayed flights cause you to domino your way into travel hell? Or for any company that delivers an inferior experience?

I know some of you are saying: “Well, when you have a poor experience, you don’t have to go back.” That’s true. But why should I pay you for your first failure? It’s your brand promise, after all.

Why are individuals playing by one set of rules and businesses often playing another game altogether? Why aren’t they forced to say: “We screwed up, and this one’s on us”?

More importantly, why aren’t they smart enough to say it? Because those who do often win customers for life. Or at least until they screw up again.