I’ve always wondered why companies insist on implementing policies that are completely nonsensical in terms of their own interests and the interest of their consumers. After I missed a flight at San Francisco International Airport, I had to shuffle around my itinerary to get to my destination in a timely fashion.
I approached the customer service, partially in earnest and partially in desperation. The representative waved me over, and I began to explain to him my situation: my current flight to Chicago O’Hare is scheduled to land at 3:42pm, but my next flight to RDU is scheduled for 6:30pm—there’s another flight to RDU that leaves at 4:20pm, so I wanted to get on the earlier flight instead. Easy enough, right?
Apparently, not for United Airlines. I asked him if there were any empty spots left. The representative started furiously typing away at his computer, hitting every key with conviction, and then with phone receiver pinched against his shoulder, he called his supervisor. He spoke in code, barking orders, shaking his head and furrowing his brow. I marveled at this one-man show. With a simple request, this man had turned into a machine.
While I was still amused, the representative turned to me and asked me if I wanted to put myself on the standby list for the 4:20pm flight. I happily agreed.
However, he cautioned, “But there’s one thing though—it’s $50 to put yourself on the standby list.” I had flown standby before and I had never heard of such a charge (more on that later).
I responded, “You mean it’s $50 if I put myself on the standby list at the customer service stand?”
“Well, you could just go up to the gate and ask them to put you on standby,” he replied.
“So, you’re telling me that there’s no charge to put myself on the standby list if I just go up to the gate instead of doing it here?”
He looked at me for a second. We made eye contact.
“Actually, it’s $50 for standby regardless of which action you choose.”
“Um, that’s okay actually,” amazed that this guy tried to hustle me or at least get me out of his hair.
Silence.
Sheepishly, he replied, “Oh, well—I can actually book you on the flight free of charge. It doesn’t cost any money to do that. It’s an empty flight—I’ll do that now.”
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on.
There were a couple of things wrong with this scenario.
1.) Misleading me to think that putting myself on the standby list at the gate is actually free of charge.
a. When he addressed my initial question, he knowingly replied in such a way that made it seem like an alternative option would yield better results, but actually ended up to be the same (meaning that it was $50). His response implied what would logically follow with an intention to deceive.
2.) Making it seem like standby was the only option when there’s obviously a better (economical and convenient) choice for the consumer.
a. The only reason why people fly standby is because they have the end goal of changing their flights. He never mentioned that I could just change my flight until I asked him to do it specifically.
3.) Creating the standby option as some sort of luxury good when it really isn’t.
a. If an airline doesn’t sell a seat before the airplane takes off, they’ve effectively missed out on deriving any type of value out of it. Charging $1 for a seat is ultimately better than getting $0. Anything is better than nothing—everyone knows that.
b. It’s in the customer’s best interest to get where he or she wants to go quickly and efficiently. If a customer flies standby for the earlier flight, the ticket is already paid for and the airline fills up a seat. Everyone wins.
c. Additionally, a seat for the original later flight opens up and more customers can fill that space.
We already know that corporations are heartless entities that exist to make profits—what happened to me isn’t news at all. It’s what we’ve come to expect.
