How automation is ruining travel

Despite the claims of AI enthusiasts, robots can't really solve problems.

In May 2016, I had a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. The annual CSO Center Conference would be held at George Lucas’ Skywalker Ranch! I’m not a Star Wars fan, but with a brother and sister-in-law in the film industry, I couldn’t pass up the chance to tease them about being invited to lead a panel at such a hallowed place.

Me at Skywalker Ranch sending a pleasant greeting to my famous brother.

Even better, we could fly via Copenhagen where my wife and I met and married. We’d fly on Scandinavian Airlines, the company that owned the hotel where I started my career in 1987. We’d have a nice layover at CPH Airport with time to enjoy a nice Danish lunch before flying to SFO a few days before the conference started.

At least that was our dream plan. It was a far cry from the horrible customer service nightmare of reality.

It all started so well. We landed in Copenhagen on time and, thanks to my long-standing status as a top traveller on Star Alliance Airlines, we went to the Scandinavian Gold Lounge to relax.

As our flight time approached, the info on our phones suggested the flight was “on-time”.

We waited.

Lounge personnel called the name of passenger “So and so” to San Francisco. Then they called another, and then another. The online info still said, “On time”.

I slipped out of the lounge to look at one of the display screens.

“Cancelled.”

Back in the lounge, I asked the attendant if they could help.

Here, I encountered my first hurdle. "No rebooking assistance for you. Sit and wait," they instruct me, as if I’m a child in time-out.

"Come back later," they add.

They continued to call other passengers to SFO. I enquired again and was simply told: "You won’t get anywhere today. We’re only rebooking passengers with onward connections from San Francisco."

I watch as other passengers, those with onward connections and dressed for vacation were rebooked.

Despite being in the lounge for the airline’s most valued customers, I decided to leave and head to the main departure hall transfer desk.

“Why didn’t the Lounge Staff rebook you?”, the trainee at the counter said. “I can do that, but I have to ask, Can you run?”

Our only chance to make it to San Francisco was via Frankfurt and in Frankfurt we’d have to be able to run to catch the last flight from Europe to SFO.

We flew. We ran. We made it.

We didn’t even care that we were downgraded to a middle seat in Economy.

In San Francisco, we stood by the baggage carousel until all bags were gone. We watched the empty conveyor for about ten more minutes until we recognized all the stickers. Obviously, our lazy suitcases hadn’t made the mad dash to the plane in Frankfurt like we had. We went to the SAS luggage counter.

“Ha! We’ve been waiting for you. We had a note that your bag didn’t make it.”, the cheerful attendant said. A missing bag form was completed.

“We’ll call you tomorrow to arrange delivery.”

No call came.

A day later, I called the baggage service number at SFO the moment it opened. A robot picked up, told me to "listen very carefully," and then asked me to leave a message. It said my business was important and that they would call me back. I left a message, but no one called back. A few hours later, I tried again—same thing. Three rings. Robot. "Listen carefully." Beep. Message. Nothing.

Not one to give up easily, I call the San Francisco customer service number next. No matter what time I called there, that robot told me the office was closed. I continued to call the luggage office number. It continued to behave the same way (Three rings. Robot. "Listen carefully." Beep. Message.)

Until it didn’t.

Three days into our journey, My wife went into town to buy new clothes, we changed hotels as the conference started the next morning. I called the luggage line again. Finally, the scenario was different.

After exactly three rings, Robot picked up and said. “This mailbox is full.”

Then it hung up.

Kirsten had found some decent clothes on sale at Macy’s. We carefully stored the receipts.

The day before we were scheduled to leave, we got a call.

“We have your bags in the lobby!”

I share my experience with others at the conference, and I see heads nodding in understanding and, a few less seasoned travellers looked on in disbelief. Everyone has a cautionary tale about airlines and the critical importance of communication, empathy, and follow-up in customer service.

On departure day, we crammed our new, worn one-day clothes into our old suitcase. It contained the clean clothes we packed at home.

When I handed our passports to the check-in agent at the airport, without looking up she said,“ Bags on the scale.”

I obliged and her next words were.

“You’re overweight.”

That was true. I’d been meaning to diet and exercise.

Then I realized she still hadn’t looked up from her screen.

Instead of lying and promising her I would lead a more healthy lifestyle, I said, “We’re in Business Class, so our bags are within the limit.”

“Oh.” Then with a huge sigh and a big stretch, she grabbed a “Priority” tag to attach to our bags. She then resumed her screen-staring while shoving our passports across the counter.

As soon as we arrived home in Brussels, a bot sent us an email.

“We hope you enjoyed your flight with us. Please fill out this survey so we can make your experience even better next time!”

We filled out the survey and explained all the ways our trip could have been more enjoyable. We even attached our Macy’s receipts so they could see we saved them money by buying clothes that were 25% off.

A bot responded immediately.

How was the Bot supposed to know that I was Gold Member? Oh yeah, it was mentioned in the survey. I guess it was so busy responding it didn’t read that part.

That was the last we heard from the SAS Bots. It was the last we heard from SAS.

Remember the beginning of the story when I mentioned my career started in a hotel owned by SAS?

Fortunately, my email address book still had some valid contacts at the airline. An old friend, who had been a great collaborator on crisis communications was no a senior advisor to the President and CEO.

I sent him a brief recap of our adventure.

“You write better kafkaesque stories than Franz Kafka.”, he replied.

The next day, a human sent us an email. After “Dear Mr. Moxness, We were concerned to hear about your inconveniences on your recent flight.”, the legal department approved email continued:

“We would like to take this opportunity to advise you of our policy for delayed baggage”

After the legal mumbo jumbo, it informed that in order to consider compensation they would need to see the receipts I had sent three weeks previously and which my friend the senior advisor also had a copy of.

We sent the receipts. They paid the exact amount at a very poor USD/EUR exchange rate and, instead of fake apologizing for our “inconvenience”, they simply said they hoped to see us on board again soon.

One of the chapters in our book is called “Not Picture Perfect - Communication and Understanding”. The story of our trip to Skywalker Ranch is the introduction to that chapter.

Fortunately, the chapter also includes examples of how some companies get things right.

Here is the common denominator.

People.

Bots can compute, but they can’t solve problems.

Companies that think their chatbots solve problems end up with people who don’t care about customers because they believe the bots are doing that for them.

The bigwigs that invest in the bots know that they can’t solve problems.

That’s why, earlier this year, Air Canada tried to defend itself in court by saying that they couldn’t be held responsible if one of their bots gave someone advice that turned out not to be true.

Fortunately, the judge disagreed.

Looking back, it’s easy to see the many missed opportunities people at SAS had to turn our situation into an inconvenience. A little listening, a dash of empathy, a portion of personally caring. Instead, they left it up to the bots and I’m left with a story that no one wants to live through, but that everyone hears or experiences far too often.

Yoda’s response to our adventure was: “When customers, ignored they feel, lost they become, like your bag, hmm?”

---

Thanks for reading our newsletter! It means a lot to me. I’m grateful and hope you’ll consider hitting the “like” and “share” buttons or adding a comment if you enjoyed this article.

All of my stories are personal, authentic, and unashamedly enhanced by imperfect memory and literary creativity.

I care so much about hotels and hospitality that my wife and I wrote a book about it. (See above)

This is the second in a 12-post series dedicated to showing how hospitality is all about people and how empowering the people you have will make their jobs more meaningful and your guests’ experiences more memorable.

Don’t just buy the book. Take the next step and ask me about our “Ditch the Script” training programmes!

In addition to writing stories, I love to tell them.

As a multi-award-winning corporate leader in hospitality and global security, captivating keynotes, compelling coaching sessions, and edutaining, motivational workshops are all part of my repertoire.

Email me at paul@alwayscare.ca.

Thanks for being part of the Always Care Community!