United Airlines - good people; bad management

It took me a week to recover my baggage from United Airlines.  The process provided ample opportunity for anthropological field research into one of the least appealing assignments among the many customer-service jobs that must filled to keep a modern airline functioning.

From the time I filled out my first lost baggage form to the time, seven days later, when, after having made an extra round-trip to Dulles airport, I managed to recover my baggage, the process was time consuming, ill managed and frustrating.  United’s computerized tracking system rarely provided accurate information.  Its voice activated IT system did its best to ensure that only the most aggressive and it-savvy lost-baggage passengers were able to reach human customer service agents, who, with additional research were sometimes able to provide information that was accurate.. 

Yet the result of the week-long process, comprising nearly 10 hours of interactions and several more of distracting concern, led me to grudging respect for the United Airlines employees who were among the principal victims of a dysfunctional system in which routinely lost baggage was just one of many dysfunctions.  Most of them were doing their best to maintain their good humor and respond to passenger   concerns.  When, after computer research followed by a physical search of more than 45 minutes, an agent managed to locate my bags and present them to me, her expression of delight was genuine.  We joked together about the consequences of not having what was packed for a week after a long trip (for example underwear) before I took my leave and she returned to her desk to face the next passenger.

As I said in an earlier posting, United Airlines staff members, especially baggage service agents deserve our respect, consideration and, like all human beings, our altruistic compassion.  They are doing their best in a dysfunctional management environment that is neither efficient, empowering, nor humane.

Why United Airlines ticketing agents merit our altrustic compassion

27 July 2012

Reasons why the customer service on US Flag Airlines is so much inferior to that provided by most international carriers is a frequent conversation topic among travelers I meet.  For many years, avoiding US carriers (Southwest Airlines excepted), even if this required a more circuitous and costly routing, has been high among my travel planning priorities.

On my present trip to Zurich and Athens, however,  there seemed to be no reasonable escape from two transatlantic legs on United Airlines.  Through its “code share” with Swiss Airlines, United Airlines offered the only non-stop flight between Washington DC and Zurich.  

For those unfamiliar with code sharing, this is an arrangement that permits airlines to list their flights as if they were being offered by a “code sharing” partner.  Think of it this way.  You have made a reservation at Washington’s elite Hay Adams Hotel adjoining Lafayette Park.  However when you arrive at the check-in desk you discover that the Hay Adams management has chosen to “code-share” with the local YMCA, located not adjacent to the White House but in the low-income district on the Anacostia River’s banks. In fact, using this analogy to illustrate the disparity between United Airlines, and carriers I most commonly use,   Southwest Airlines, Singapore Airlines, All Nippon Airlines, and Qatar Airlines, does Anacostia and a fine organization, the YMCA, an injustice.

It was United’s Ticketing procedure that was most egregious. (See my later blog about flight cancellations and loss of baggage).  Passengers seeking an international check in were herded (a bit like cattle to the slaughterhouse) towards a lengthy queue that, after a wait, spewed us towards a long rank of Kiosks fronted by touch screen terminals.  A sign over each bore the designation “easy check in." Sadly this was misnomer for both staff and passengers.  Far in the distance, I later discovered, were a small number kiosks that were available to serve passengers who had the temerity to seek “full” service.  

Since my “priority gold”  frequent flyer status allowed me to check two bags, I had packed in a manner that facilitated this, however “easy check in” did not offer this option.  I was only allowed to move to a baggage checking agent after I had inserted my credit card and been assessed an additional $100.  When I reached the agent and asked a about frequent flyer miles, her initial response was “your travel agent didn’t enter your card number.”  (My usual practice was to present my Singapore Airlines Kris Flyer card when I checked in. Star Alliance ticketing agents not affiliated with United Airlines always welcomed it.)  In this instance, however “move on” was the clear message from the agent’s body language.  I didn’t move an inch.  “Could you please enter my card number” I asked, in the most congenial tone I could muster.  After a pause, the response was a reluctant “yes.” My card number was duly recorded and new boarding passes grudgingly printed.  There was however, no mention of a refund for the $100 “excess baggage charge to which I was entitled.   

By this time I was exhausted by the effort of maintaining relentless good humor through a process that seemed not only dysfunctional, but inhumane. I decided that regaining freedom from United Airlines ticketing minions, without further negotiations, was worth $100.  Could their process be designed to produce exactly that result?

Venting ones anger at the stressed and dispirited United Airlines staff members I encountered would have been easy, but wrong.  I only had to endure the check-in experience for about 45 minutes.  It is their misfortune to be its instruments, with no opportunity to manifest humane interactions that make ones work-life worth living, every hour of their working days.  Our response to them should not be the natural one:  frustration expressed as rage, but altruistic compassion.  They are victims of a management system that makes their work-life what it is.  Their wages, are - indeed - ‘compensation’ for adverse circumstances.

But what about the top managers whose policies create suffering for employees and passengers alike.  They, too, merit our altruistic compassion.  The Lord Buddha’s teachings remind us that no action is without consequences.  What we sow, we reap, if not in this life than in our next.  What fate lies is store for top managers of the employees whose suffering I witnessed at the UA international check in counters?  No-one can say for sure, however I fear that their next life may not be a good one.  

Compassion and empathy: as important to human evolution as the opposable thumb

Not long ago, I received a note from a friend asking if I could provide sources or insight that would place the values of compassion and empathy in historical context.  The questioner, along with two other recipients of her query, are all members of the Balaton Group.  On its website, the Group describes itself as “an international network of researchers and practitioners in fields related to systems and sustainability.”  (http://www.balatongroup.org/).

I found the response from my friend, sustainability scholar-activist and Buddhist Monk, David Berry, to be particularly clear, succinct and moving.  I asked David for permission to share it with Dormgrandpop readers and he agreed.

The development of compassion and empathy predates the first humans. It is part of the evolution of animals from being entirely instinct-based to being more aware of choices -- from being entirely self-focused to including mate, offspring, siblings, pack, clan, tribe, nation . . . toward including all life and all things as a gradually expanding "we".

Bats bring food back to the cave to feed another bat that is too sick to fly. Dolphins lift a sick or injured dolphin up to the surface to breath and they have similarly saved humans. To be part of such a bat or dolphin community increases the survivability of each individual. The increasing interest in and capacity to cooperate with each other are among the supportive factors in the rise of humans. They are as important as the opposable thumb.

The presence of Empathy is an indicator of increasing awareness of interconnection and interdependence. Because it is supportive of survival, sustainability and -- let's call it awakening, it tends to increase over time on the evolutionary time scale in spite of and because of the suffering that non-empathy and non-compassion bring in the short term.

PLEASE DON’T OFFER CANDY TO OUR STUDENTS!

May 24, 2011

Though I wouldn’t have wished for it, my final days as Anderson Hall Resident would not have been complete without a fire alarm evacuation. Evacuations almost always occur in the small hours of the early morning: today’s was at 5AM. They are announced with ear splitting gongs and flashing strobe lights. Sleepy students (and at this time of the year, a few adults in addition to myself) pour out of our three buildings and stand, sit or lie on the curbs and adjoining grass. At least in the summer months – now – it is not freezing cold.

Some years ago, a friend provided an idea that has helped me lighten this bleak experience – handing out candy. I set aside one of my large salad bowls, filled it with wrapped Reese, Mounds, Butterfinger and Reese Butter Bars, and began distributing the contents to my partially comatose neighbors. Later, I added a flashing red light, borrowed from the back of my bicycle. The way students gravitate towards my light brings to mind the way sacred goldfish in one Kyoto, Japan temple pond gravitate to food pellets that worshippers and tourists provide for them.

Often this now traditional custom lightens the atmosphere. It evokes amused smiles, thank yous and even an occasional “we love you!” A septuagenarian, sarong-clad Professor distributing candy in a bowl festooned with a flashing red light belies customary student images of a “faculty member.” My practice (along with other Dormgrandpop activities) has been mentioned in campus publications, the Washington Post, the Washington Times and an Associated Press news story, several years ago, that received wide national distribution.

This early morning was the same as most until I reached a small group of adults (I assume they were coaches of young women’s field hockey teams who were visiting campus for a competition). One of them, a dark haired adult woman with oversized glasses accosted me as I passed by. “Please don’t offer candy to our students!” she said firmly.

I was not only nonplussed; but also irritated – so surprised at this first-ever reaction to my largesse that I simply said nothing and walked away. Soon, the bells ceased and we returned to our rooms for a few minutes of sleep before the workday began. But I did not forget the incident.

Later, I had to opportunity to reflect on my reaction, with the realization that, after several years of meditative practice, my journey on the path towards attaining altruistic compassion remains a long one. Instead of remaining silent, I could have expressed thanks for this concern with her student’s well-being. I could have asked that she identify her students so I could be sure to skip over them (perhaps with an explanation). I could have asked her to recommend more healthy snacks that I could provide during the next evacuation. I could have sought to enroll her as my partner in distributing them. Instead, I simply felt irritated and walked away. The incident, including the irritation, remained with me. The Dalai Lama and other teachers – Buddhist and Christian - whose works I am studying would have done better, as I must in the future.

This tale has a postscript. The next afternoon I encountered three young-women hockey competitors who were watching television in a lounge across the hall from my apartment. They were Princeton students and we shared experiences from our Ivy League educations and athletic competitions. Rowing was my intercollegiate sport, though only for three semesters. In course of our conversation, asked about the prohibition against eating candy. My teammates and I had often eaten candy and gulped from jars of honey before a race in the hope the sugar would provide us with an energy burst. The young women looked puzzled. “Who told you not to hand out candy?” they asked. “We do have training rules of course, but a prohibition against eating candy certainly isn’t one of them!”