If you want to gain a unique perspective on human nature, deal with complaints from frequent flyers, says Richard Tams.
Public relations executive and humourist Franklin P Jones once wrote that “untold suffering seldom is”. Having worked for almost three decades at the customer coalface of a renowned air transport provider, I can heartily echo this sentiment.
My many days managing the relationship between the airline and its top corporate customers were peppered with the receipt of complaints of all shapes and sizes. Most would make me wince, some would make me scream, a few would make me laugh, while others would make me ponder on the importance of retaining some perspective.
Being the willing recipient of complaints from our most frequent flyers gave me a clear line of sight as to what the airline was doing right and, more important, what it was getting wrong. While this was an important and valuable part of my role, very occasionally it also gave me a unique insight into some of the more unusual troubles these warriors of the skies had to endure at our behest and why some of them most definitely needed to get a life.
Fur will fly
The first bizarre complaint that I remember receiving was from the chief executive of a company who wrote to inform me of a rather distressing occurrence in first class on descent into New York JFK. The captain had alerted passengers to their imminent arrival into the Big Apple and advised cabin crew to prepare for landing. At this point, the crew retrieved the chief executive’s wife’s coat from the wardrobe and laid it on her knee for landing.
As is often the case, the aircraft was then put into an unexpected holding pattern above the airfield, delaying its arrival by 20 minutes. This chief executive had put pen to paper to severely reprimand the airline for causing his wife the discomfort of almost half an hour with her fur coat on her knee. From this point onwards, I realised that the perspectives of some frequent flyers and those of the rest of the world differed greatly.
I once received an angry letter from a regular visitor to one of our business class lounges. The missive came shortly after we had replaced the individually wrapped Scottish shortbread snacks with a wider range of unwrapped cookies served in a large glass jar. The author vigorously criticised the airline for not sparing a thought for all of those mothers who relied on such takeaway goodies to stock their children’s lunchboxes throughout the week. How could we have been so thoughtless?
The airline’s catering department, naively believing a reduction in wasteful packaging would be applauded by our frequent flyers, had not bargained on the wrath of the Mumsnet mafia. Legend has it that a couple of weeks later a man was stopped from walking out of the lounge with a whole jar of the offending snacks under his coat.
First world problems
Other complaints provided even more unfortunate insights into the soul of man. One of the least pleasurable jobs I had to undertake was to occasionally extract a much sought-after loyalty card from its owner. These cards were highly desirable because they could not be earned or bought but were bestowed on our most important flyers from above.
Perhaps not surprisingly, those who had loyalty cards rarely offered to return them when circumstances changed, and it would sometimes fall to me to notify the holder of the cancellation of their card. This process was never pleasant and seldom without incident. After one rather tortuous extraction, I received a letter from the now ex-cardholder. He told me that as a result of our action, he had been severely diminished socially. “My friends consider me less of a man now that I no longer have this card,” he wrote. Well, with friends like that…
Of course, the vast majority of complaints about airports, missed flights and lost luggage are justified and if you are tempted to write about the various shortcomings of your airline of choice, please proceed. It’s the only way they’ll learn. However, just before posting your letter, or pressing “send”, just remember that some of these occurrences are what we call “first world problems”.
Richard Tams is an airline consultant and executive coach
