A couple weeks ago, when Chicago was getting hammered by snow, I was stuck with a couple of coworkers in the Philadelphia airport. We were booked on an American Airlines flight, then watched on the big board as it flashed from “Delayed” to “Canceled.”

Interestingly, at that moment, the small group of happy AA employees hovering near the gate mysteriously vaporized, leaving one lonely sacrificial lamb to deal – one-by-one – with 150 upset passengers. “No, you don’t get any vouchers for food or hotel, since it’s weather related.” Luckily, we were able to call our travel service, American Travel (whom I highly recommend) and get booked on another AA flight three hours hence.

We were pointed to the baggage area to get our luggage back (I know, not smart to check bags when the weather is questionable). The employee we found there, smirked and said, “Well, I’m supposed to tell you to go to the office over there, but your best bet is to go back to Ticketing.” As a customer, this is a hard message to interpret, but we were tired, just shrugged and slogged back to Ticketing, with its long lines, and eventually got our bags.

Needless to say, the flight we had weaseled our way on was canceled about an hour before boarding. We managed to scramble and get three seats on a 10:00 the next morning, then scramble some more to find a hotel for the night. We waited about an hour for a shuttle to take us to the local Sheridan. It was, of course, under renovation (as have been the last three hotels I’ve enjoyed).

The next morning, all flights looked to be on time. As soon as we got through security, we looked at the big board: “Canceled.” Panic. No employees to be found in the vicinity. Another very long line. Another call to our travel service, We jumped airlines, to US Air, and – though it was delayed twice – it eventually went wheels-up around 2:00.

The moral of this story? Well, one lesson is to probably avoid traveling with me. But the other is that, customers are at their most irrational and insecure at times like these – hoping to get home, or to a meeting, or wherever, and not in control of their own destiny. And yet, in these exact instances, the airlines respond with less information, less access to employees, no reassurances, and no empathy.

The customer must “work the system.” It’s the road warriors – the people with 2 million frequent flier miles – who have a clue what to do when something changes. The rest of the herd stands there, dumbfounded, anxious, gazing blankly at the horizon.
The entire process, from the moment you buy a ticket to the moment you get in a cab on the other end, seems to be designed based on the needs of the FAA, the TSA, the airport, and the airlines. Into this random and cold morass the customer must dive and survive.

There is an incredible opportunity here for somebody to start really getting creative – to throw out the assumptions and the flawed perspective and build an incredible experience, one that focuses on the emotions that are at play for most customers. Are we irrational? Of course! That’s where the money is! Airlines need to recognize and acknowledge it, to embrace it. Create an experience that is injected with concepts like caring and engagement, and you will rule the travel world!

(And, oh by the way, Vox can help with that).

Looking into how our subconscious operates has led me to one interesting conclusion: we’re smarter than we think we are. Here’s what I mean:

Our five senses absorb up to 11 million bits of information every second, yet our conscious mind can only juggle about 40 at any moment. It’s clear our underestimated subconscious (or “irrational”) part of the brain handles the lion’s share of our thinking and processing. Further, there is evidence that these subconscious and emotional processes actually enhance decision making, including purchase decisions. So much for being “too emotional” to make a good decision.

Here’s a recent example illustrating how we make better choices for complex decisions by “going with our gut.” Psychologists at the University of Amsterdam looked at a common but important situation: buying a new car. They randomly split participants into two groups, and showed them both the same four attributes of a new car, some positive (good mileage) and some negative (poor leg room). Then one group was given four minutes to consciously deliberate, weighing the positives and negatives to arrive at a decision. The other group was required to work on complex puzzles. With just a few factors to consider (i.e. a “simple” decision), those who consciously weighed the few attributes did a little better, with 55% making the right decision, compared to 40% for the group who was distracted.

The experiment was then ratcheted up a level. Both groups were again asked to view positive and negative car attributes, but this time there were 12 instead of four. As before, one group consciously deliberated; the other was distracted with tests. And the surprising result: The success rate of those who consciously weighed the factors dropped to 23%; success in the “unconscious group” shot up to nearly 60%.

The findings point to some time-honored advice when faced with a complex decision: “sleep on it.”

After all, if they leave, you’ll just get more right? Who cares if they’re irrational?

Well, you should, because - though your customers might lie (intentionally or not) - the numbers don’t.

For every $1 you spend to keep a customer, you need to spend up to $10 to acquire a new one. In banking, research has shown that it costs over $200 for acquisition of a new customer; meanwhile many banks lose 30% or more of their overall customer base every year – customers who would, theoretically, cost one tenth of that $200 to keep. It’s even more pronounced in the cell phone industry. Acquisition costs top $300, and yet customer churn is rampant. The insurance industry is the worst of all, with the cost of acquiring a new customer somewhere north of $300. Even more egregious – for many of these industries, the customers are typically unprofitable through the first year, only hitting a break-even point later in the relationship (if they stay). Yet these potentially valuable assets are simply walking out the door. As the late, great Marshall Field said, for most businesses, customers are “your only true profit center.”

So, is it worth trying to dig a little deeper into your customers’ subconscious and determine how to create emotional, irrational experiences that resonate with them? I’d tell you “no,” but I’d be lying…I think.

There was a hot dog place in my hometown called Little Louie’s. I’d stop there as I was biking home, a sweaty young teen, from my summer job as a caddy at a local country club. Little Louie’s sat (slouched really) next to the village green and baseball diamond in the center of our suburban town, Northbrook, Illinois, just north of Chicago. To grab a shake or a hot dog, you would open the squeaky wooden screen door, which would slam down on your backside if you weren’t quick, and stand in the un-air conditioned heat of the claustrophobic storefront. Little Louie’s was always crowded, and in my memory was always hot and noisy. A group of anxious customers, jockeying for position in front of an old wooden counter, faced forward with mouths open and eyebrows up, trying to catch the attention of either Ed, one of the founders, or Louie himself. There was no line, but more of a mosh pit; it was up to you as the customer to compete with the others to get noticed.

The walls were hidden under dozens of paper plates that had been stapled up, each listing a scrawled, faded menu item – some still available, some not. Tacked among the paper plates were assorted autographed black-and-white photos of unknown vintage, many showing older Chicago sports figures like former Blackhawks, Cubs and Bears, smiling with Ed or Louie.

“You!” The shout was always shocking. If you weren’t paying attention, you could get passed over in a micro-second when Louie yelled and pointed at your gape-jawed, confused, 14 year-old carcass. “Chocolate shake, hot dog, no peppers,” I’d mumble.

“Speak up!” he’d scream over the din. I’d repeat, louder, a nervous adolescent squeak in my voice. Occasionally, you’d hear a first-timer, usually a guy in a suit, ask for ketchup on his dog, and the customers would all shut up and stare, waiting. “Ketchup?” Louie would start. “What are you talking about? You don’t put ketchup on a hot dog!” Hint: when in the Chicago area, you traditionally don’t put ketchup on a hot dog. Yellow mustard, a kind of neon green relish, and sweet and/or hot peppers, maybe some sauerkraut (though that’s more for a Polish), but not ketchup.

Banging out the screen door toward the shade of the park across the street, sipping on my shake in its misbranded cup (Louie’s never printed its own cups; they just bought overruns) grasping the crumbled plain brown bag with the dark grease stain spreading along the bottom (from the fries dumped inside, which you didn’t order, you just got) I was a happy camper.

But why?

The experience I just described, on its face, is anything but a “stellar” customer experience. In fact, if you listen to management gurus and read the latest books about creating profitable customer relationships through CRM and more efficient customer processes, and you look at the experience in a business-like, logical way, Ed and Louie did just about everything wrong. They were rude, the product mix was confusing and what they did serve was a widely available commodity, there was nowhere to sit, they didn’t visually establish a consistent brand message, and their brand image was – while ultimately powerful – inadvertent.

But there was something inexplicably magnetic about it. Customers swarmed into the shabby storefront in the affluent suburb in droves. And along with the customers, the money flowed in, year after year after year.

So what was it about Little Louie’s that made it a business success? As for the customers, one has to wonder: “What were they thinking?”

There is no perfectly logical answer to the question above. Because we (and we are all customers) don’t think that way. In fact, we’re “irrational.” The reasons we act the way we do are much less clear than some might assume. The answers lie within this fantastic puzzle box of our subconscious.

Moving forward, we’ll look at some of the latest science around how we really think, and just what companies can do about it.

No, you’re not crazy. You’re just irrational!

First, welcome to our brand spanking new website – irrationalcustomers.com. Looks cool, doesn’t it?

This site is about you, and me, how we take in and process information, and how we act as customers. It’s not what you think. Or, maybe, it is what you think…you just don’t know it. Because you’re irrational.

Join the club.

Companies have been making assumptions for many years about how to attract and keep customers, and - based on a wealth of recent research – most of those assumptions are wrong.

In this space we’ll be exploring the many different facets of the “irrational customer.” And there are many facets. Let me give you an example: customer satisfaction surveys are ineffective because we are unable to access the real reasons we feel the way we do; we make decisions in the “irrational” subconscious, and then infer or “rationalize” our feelings based on our behavior. More to come.

Through this blog I’ll be sharing my wise and insightful (according to my mom) views on the latest research – both business and neuro – regarding just how people (and specifically customers) think and behave. And we’ll look at how that knowledge can impact how companies attract and keep their customers.

We’ll also use other areas of the site to further this message. You can see podcasts of yours truly speaking to different business groups about our crazy, evolving, imperfect brains, and what they make us do sometimes. We’ll be adding articles – those we’ve written, and those we’ve found – that illuminate the topic. Plus, we’re developing a book. Stay tuned for more on that.

So sign up for our RSS feed, and get ready to learn about – not just customer experience and marketing – but everything from evolution to neuron processing to behavioral science, with interesting, synapse stops in between.

And as we delve into the new and different, it’s my fervent hope that you’ll join the discussion by adding your comments.

So, the irrational journey begins…