Yesterday we witnessed the CONFLICT approach to customer service. 

Before we experience the EMPATHY approach, let's pick up where the Conflict left off.

So we're back at Gate E16 as Delta loads their human cargo onto their “payload-optimized flight.”

“You better step aside and pay the thirty dollars to check your baggage, or I'll remove it and you from the flight,” growled Mr. Gruff. 

I did. I stepped aside and gave my card to Mr. Gruff's startled-looking colleague. Even he seemed stunned by the whole deal. 

“I just don't understand his attitude,” I said to Mr. Startled, my hand shaking as I took my card out of the reader. 

Mr. Startled's eyes widened, but his mouth stayed shut. Maybe he too feared Mr. Gruff's wrath. 

Mr. Gruff snatched the bag tag from the printer, slapped it on my bag, and shoved the receipt in my hand.

“Take the bag down to the end of the bridge. Someone will take it from you and load it into the hold.” 

“Shouldn't you take--” I started, but....

“Next passenger!” He growled and moved me along.

I wheeled my crush-the-corporation roll-on down the dog-legged air bridge, chewing on a bowl of anger, embarrassment, and guilt. I had already started writing my self-righteous angry email to Customer Service in my head. 

Is that how we want our clients to feel after interacting with our businesses?

I reach the cabin door. No Attendant. The hungry, tired passenger line snakes behind me. Ever seen how quickly the anger builds up in a moving line forced to stop for unseen reasons? Where should I leave my bag before the line bites me? No-one from Delta was there to snatch me from the snake's venomous jaws, until...

Enter EMPATHY. 

Or David as his friends and family more than likely call him. He was the greeting Attendant on the plane, and he saw me pointing at the check tag on my bag over the stench of fuel and the whine of engines. 

“Just leave it in the corner behind you and come on board!” he said reassuringly.

Now I didn't want to leave my bag unattended behind me, not knowing if someone actually would load it. The concern was heightened because I hadn't planned to check it and couldn't think if there was anything inside that wouldn't survive the checked luggage Demo Derby.

But the snake behind me slithered ever closer, and it was time to abandon my offensive cargo and get on board.

Before I could get a chance to tell him what had happened, David could see I was troubled. 

It must be upsetting for you to have to check your bag when you weren't expecting to,” he said in that same tone, full of genuine concern. 

Boom! My anxiety deflated like a burst tire.

What had he just done? He recognized and met me at my pain point with EMPATHY.

“I know it's not your fault,” I explained. “But your colleague back there just had this aggressive attitude I don't understand.”

“I'm sorry you had to experience that,” he continued.

Right there, he empathized with me, but didn't condemn his colleague without knowing more details either. David is a smart one. 

As my body relaxed and the anger and embarrassment drained from me, he ANTICPATED my remaining pain point.

“Someone is picking up your bag right now,” he said looking past my shoulder as I got on board. As I walked down the aisle, heard, seen, understood, I deleted my mental letter of complaint.

Now this was a great save. I am not a pain in the ass customer. I'm not overly demanding or unreasonable. I understand that delays, mistakes, and plain old bad days happen to us all. It takes a lot – nowadays at least – to fire up my anger. Mr Gruff fired it up. Mr. Empathy cooled it right down and... was that job done for him?

Nope. David had acknowledged the customer service problem. Now he set about putting it right.

The drinks trolley came rattling towards me an hour into the flight. David recognized me right away. 

“Can I get you anything to drink today, sir? Any snacks you can see yourself enjoying with your drink?” he said in a simple and friendly way, never lapsing into over-enthusiasm either. 

“I'll have a coffee, please,” I said, happy to recharge. 

“Would you like two?” said David without hesitation. 

Now as an Irish transplant to the U.S. who still gets a kick out of free coffee refills at diners and restaurants, you bet I wanted a second coffee.

SURPASSING EXPECTATIONS. 

He wasn't done though. Later my neighbor in Row 23 asked David for some earbuds to watch a movie. They were $2, which she paid for by card. 

“I'll be right back with those buds, ma'am,” he assured her. 

But he wasn't right back. Ten, maybe fifteen minutes passed but no buds for my row buddy. After he had finished his rounds, he passed our row again. 

“Oh my gosh I never gave you your buds? I'm so sorry. That's no good at all, you sitting there unable to watch your favorite movie on my account. Would like a glass of wine to make up for it?”

This guy...

Disembarking, I thanked David, and once again held up the line behind me as I not only thanked him, but explained to him all the things that I felt he had got right. He was genuinely pleased that he had made such a difference to my experience.

I gave him my card and asked him to email me. I told him I'd love to ask him some questions as I was starting a new business and he had just given me a great lesson in customer service.

And so off I went, happy that I had told him how much of a difference he had made.

But what about Mr. Gruff, you cry!

Well, let's rewind to just before takeoff. Mr. Gruff boarded the plane and strutted down the aisle on a mission. He passed Business Class, Comfort Plus, now he was in the cheap seats and he kept on coming. Was he coming for me? Did he just uncover another one of my insidious corporation-crushing plans?

No. He stopped by an older lady a few rows in front. It started like this...

“Ma'am, I explained the situation to you, and yet you took your extra bag on anyway. I've tried to be reasonable with you, but you now have two options: you pay thirty dollars to check your bag, or I escort you from the aircraft.”

I couldn't hear her replies over the fan noise, but she put up some resistance. Mr. Gruff was just too much, though, and he took our lady's bag off. Surprisingly, he left her on board.

Looking back a couple of days later, I tried to empathize with both Mr. Gruff and David. Maybe Mr. Gruff is under incredible pressure from his supervisor to load the plane quickly. If so, would that supervisor approve of the knock-on effects of that pressure on the passengers? 

Maybe David has a lot of support from his supervisors on board. Maybe he's rewarded for his positive attitude.

Or maybe David is just a smart man full of empathy, who genuinely loves anticipating and correcting his clients' pain points. 

EMPATHY or CONFLICT?

I know which one I'd rather have on my business's front line. 

After a flight in the skies, tomorrow we take to the ocean for...

How DESIRE saved me from drowning.