For many years I was an Air Canada loyalist. It was a mutually beneficial relationship. I did everything I could to be true to the brand, sometimes even paying a bit more than I needed to, or choosing more awkward routes to and from my destination in order to collect frequent flyer points. In return, they upgraded me, told me I was an Elite flyer, and gave me all kinds of perks that made the whole boring mess of business travel more tolerable.
Then the recession hit.
As with many business flyers, my travel was severely curtailed by the economic downturn. I had no choice. My company was forced to find ways to economize, and making do with a conference call instead of face-time with far-flung clients was a logical expense reduction.
To add insult to injury, Air Canada reacted to my decrease in travel spending like a spurned lover. They downgraded me and took away my perks. They cut me loose and removed any need to remain loyal. Our previously monogamous relationship was suddenly unimportant to them, and I was free to sleep around with whatever cheap floozy airline brand offered me the best deal, or the most direct route. At first I was angry. How dare they? After all I had done for them? After ignoring the clearly superior service, pricing and routes often offered by competitors?
Anger rapidly morphed into confusion. I can’t be the only one experiencing this rejection. There are likely thousands, if not tens of thousands of frequent flyers with long-term loyalty track records on file in a big Air Canada computer database somewhere, going through a similar break-up. What if, instead of dumping us all like cheap one-night stands, Air Canada had reacted with empathy? What if they analyzed the relationships and instead of a Dear John letter, sent out a love letter, acknowledging the global financial turmoil, and cutting us all some slack? What then?
“Dear David: We know it’s a tough time. We’ve noticed you’re not flying as much. But we’re all in this together. We’ll keep you at your current frequent flyer status level for an extra year, as our way of saying thanks for the long history of support you’ve shown to our company. Don’t worry. We still love you.”
If I’d received some variation on the above, some kind of big warm hug instead of a rude slap in the face, I’d have been a love-struck teenager for life. I’d have jumped through rings of fire to patronize Air Canada and only Air Canada forevermore. Instead, I’m pissed. And I’m sure the tens of thousands of others who receive their rejection letters from Air Canada this year will be too.
