I’ve customarily flown one of the bigger old-school airlines like American and United. More recently, I’ve found myself on Southwest, JetBlue, and even RyanAir in Europe.

When I’m traveling by myself, I really don’t care which airline I take. I travel light and can sit anywhere. But when I have family along (especially my kids) flying on Southwest or RyanAir causes me inexplicable pre-flight anxiety. The reason? We don’t have seat assignments.

As we line up with our boarding passes and see the hundred-plus other passengers milling about with their big “carry-on” bags, I start wondering: will we be able to sit together? How am I going to find space in the overhead compartment?

It’s really pretty stupid. I know we’ll get seats, and we’ll probably be close to each other. Still, why is it better that –when I’m boarding a cramped American 727 and I’m in a hole they call 27E, I feel more comfortable?

I’ve been reading more on Maslow and his hierarchy of needs, and I think the fear is based down in one of the first few levels of the needs pyramid – particularly the level 2 need for safety or security (translate as “peace of mind”).

It’s irrational, but it’s real.

Let me know if you have other ideas on our irrational (but real) anxieties.

If GEL is anything, it is creative and fresh, especially compared to the countless other corporate and trade conferences I’ve attended over the years. The participants included chief experience officers, some customer experience and user experience consultants and techies, and even a gaggle of Google-ites. The first day found me running around the Metropolitan Museum of Art on a scavenger hunt in the morning and wandering Greenwich Village in the afternoon.

Speakers the next day – an alarming number of whom were educated at either Harvard, MIT, or Stanford – presented an impressive array of ideas and stories across industries and disciplines, from the traditional to the…well this…and these guys.

Overall, it’s a trip. Sign up here if you’re interested.

On my last business trip, I was confronted with one of those “what do I do now?” moments while trying to depart the downtown Hyatt in Atlanta. My usual mode of egress from hotels is to leave the keys in the room and walk out the front, figuring they won’t forget to update and send me a final bill.

On this morning, however, I decided to give the shiny new “Self Express Check-In and Check-Out” kiosk a try. After all, there’s no waiting, a cool touch screen, and the word “express” in the title. What an incredibly logical approach to customer service! Besides, our company, Vox, has been getting more involved with new technology that improves customer experience, so it’s field research.

As I started punching my name and other basic info in, I noticed that the screen was not necessarily configured properly. One had to lean down hard and maintain pressure for a letter to register, but hold down a micro-second too long and two letters popped up, requiring a painful delete procedure. Also the alignment was off, requiring a distinct prejudice of the user’s finger slightly to the northwest of the actual letter.

Slowly, I struggled through the process. I wanted to abandon this terror machine, but now it had part of my information – I was halfway checked out – and there was no off ramp. The choice popped up for a printed statement or to have it emailed. I immediately hit the email option, wanting to avoid trying to figure out just where and when the printed statement might be dispensed.

The evil screen politely requested that I enter my email address. Dang! I was low on oxygen, but knew I must be near the summit of this customer service ascent. With my last bit of strength, I punched down on the “m” for bill.cusick@voxinc.com. I had finished! I could now walk out the door and leave this cursed lobby.

The screen blipped for a second, and then it seemed that I could hear the devil laughing as the kiosk pushed the dagger in: “please confirm by reentering your email address.”

AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!

Or not. Fact is, most companies need a map to find a clue about what makes their customers tick. A study by the Chief Marketing Officer (CMO) Council appearing in this TMCnet.com article proves the point. While all the companies surveyed claim that focusing on customer experience and retention is a corporate priority, you couldn’t tell it by what they are actually doing.

And I quote: “Just six percent of marketers say they have ‘excellent knowledge’ of the customer when it comes to demographic, behavioral, psychographic and transactional data, while over 50 percent report they have ‘fair, little, or no’ knowledge of the customer.”

Many companies already have the behavioral data to get a solid grasp on what they can do to improve customer experience and retention. It’s right under their nose, it’s important, and yet, nothing happens.
Yes, customers are irrational. But you can find “the truth” by analyzing their behavior.

You just have to bother to look.

We enjoy our own company and, by extension, we’re drawn to other people and things that are familiar and remind us of ourselves. Different people and ideas, by contrast, tend to cause us anxiety and we need some time to adapt.

Well, according to article in the New York Times, this positive association with all things that are “us” extends to our names…and even to the letters in our names. There’s even a label for this dynamic: the name-letter effect.

People feel a kinship with their namesakes, Googling them regularly. The article notes studies suggesting that “Johnsons are more likely to wed Johnsons, women named Virginia are more likely to live in (and move to) Virginia, and people whose surname is Lane tend to have addresses that include the word ‘lane,’ not ‘street.’”

It’s a nutty concept (dare I say “irrational?”), but there is evidence to support it. So what do we take away from it?

Just this: when you’re dealing with prospects and customers, keep in mind that they may not be looking for the next, best, cutting-edge thing. Often we want something familiar, something that isn’t about “new,” but rather about comfort, that connects back to who we already are.

In other words: save the pizzazz, and give them what they already know.