It’s been 12 months since Disneyland president Matt Ouimet and his team of Orlando transplants blew into town. But the turnaround at the once-exemplary, next-neglected Magic Kingdom has been startling—like a breath of fresh paint.
For me, most refreshing have been New Management’s efforts to reduce overcrowding. Congestion never seemed to bother the previous regimes. In fact, they seemed to take almost perverse pleasure in crowding, as if sardine-like conditions validated their decisions. We must be doing everything right—look how packed the park is!
Embarrassed at the lackluster initial reaction to Disney’s California Adventure park, Prior Management seemed bent on inflating attendance figures purely for statistical purposes, not for the health of the business. In fact, pushing cheap annual passes and constant discounts for locals worsened the average day guest’s experience and conditioned them to never again pay full price again. They knew the next promotion was right around the corner.
New Management saw through the smoke screen. Ouimet realizes a less-packed park makes for a happier guest, who likely will stay longer, spend more, and return frequently. So, this summer, there were no deep discounts to get extra bodies through the gates. Cast members were more restricted on signing in friends and family. Then, to pull more bodies off the walkways, Team Ouimet scaled back the number of attractions offering Fastpass tickets. And now, annual pass prices have been hiked.
Waiting in lines also became less burdened due to his controversial crack-down on the abused Special Assistance Pass system. The gutsy move showed that he was willing to do what was right, even if it wasn’t politically correct and hurt a few feelings.
Finally—in perhaps his most novel idea to decrease congestion—he’s trying to increase ride capacity by—get this—building new attractions.
Just as obvious have been the cosmetic changes. Maintenance has again been allowed to dust off their dust rags and spackling tools. Everything’s getting the once-over, from the Immense (that is, rebuilding the Nearly Condemned Tiki Room) to the Incidental Yet Significant (re-arming the Jungle Cruise skippers).
Certainly, the full effect won’t be enjoyed until months to come, as facilities one by one resurface from lengthy rehabs. In the meantime, guests, on the whole, seem patient and forgiving. Most see the scaffolding as a temporary inconvenience—like waiting for Christmas until you can unwrap the presents under the tree.
However, at least one aspect of The Show is taking a little longer to
turn around. That’s understandable, since it’s the one area that can’t
be fixed simply by throwing money at it. But it’s the package that holds
everything else together—a fact that guests and cast members alike
have recognized since the beginning.
Let’s look back at a guest letter that the park used for years as a training tool, to focus cast members on the most important aspect of Disneyland. The author, a Mr. Schuch, supervised American Airlines ticket agents and baggage handlers and wrote the letter to inspire his own employees.
American Airlines, Inc.
December 6, 1957
To: All Terminal Service Personnel—LAX
From: Superintendent—Terminal Service—LAX
Subject: Customer Service
I recently broke down and finally agreed to take my family on an outing to Walt Disney’s Magic Kingdom—Disneyland. Many of you have already been there and no doubt have made the same observations that I am going to talk about, but I thought some of you might be interested in the marvelous reaction that my family received from this visit.
We drove through the entrance to the parking lot, and after paying our fee, were presented with a very attractive folder that told us how we could “save money”! This impressed us and we followed their advice and believe it or not did save money!
My two daughters, ages 3 and 5, made a beeline for Fantasyland and surprised me by heading for the cheapest ride in the park—a ten-cent whirl on King Arthur’s Carrousel. We noticed that every attendant was in immaculate uniform. They took charge of our kiddies at the entrance, placed them on their horses, strapped them on, and gave them a big reassuring smile. After they rode in circles for several minutes, the same attendants gave them another big smile, helped them down and gave each one a little pat on the back as they left. My oldest daughter made this comment, “I don’t want to ride on the merry-go-round at Redondo Beach anymore, daddy, because the man there isn’t as nice as that man.” Here is service having an impact on a five-year-old, but Walt Disney’s standards are high and ten cents is still a piece of revenue.
The next thing that caught the children’s eye was the Canal Boat Ride through Storybook Land, and they insisted that mom and dad join them. Wow—$1.20 for seven minutes, but it was worth it. A fantastic ride that enabled you to relive your youth. What impressed me most? When we disembarked from the canal boat, the lady attendant—and I repeat “lady”—assisted my children and my wife to dry land. She didn’t stop there, however, because all of a sudden I felt that she had hold of my left arm and was assisting me to the wharf. What service I thought—this and this alone was worth $1.20.
We spent seven hours in this Magic Fairy Land and at every turn we noticed the same immaculate uniforms and the same outstanding courtesy being shown to every one of Walt Disney’s guests.
Something else that impressed us—the cleanliness of the entire area. There isn’t an ash receptacle in the park, and I was looking for them, but there wasn’t a cigarette butt in sight. All the equipment was in excellent repair with not a trace of dust. The brass was polished to a high luster on the perfect replica of the old-time railroad that encircles the park. The windows on the train were so clean that they sparkled.
All of this might sound corny and it also might convey the thought I have a side line job as one of Disney’s public relation representatives. This, of course, is not true. His Magic Kingdom impressed us so much that I could not help comparing his operation with that of American Airlines. His standards of service must be extremely high. He must screen and re-screen every employee that applies for a job. There must be a constant inspection activity going on, otherwise, his domain would not present such an appearance or his employees would not offer such outstanding customer service.
We were impressed—not just with the fantasy, the splashes of vivid color or the immensity of the operation. No—this didn’t impress us half as much as the things that are outlined above.
We will all go back to Disneyland—the service is terrific.
O.A. Schuch
Today, Disneyland is making great strides in restoring “the fantasy” and “the splashes of vivid color.” But, as Mr. Schuch pointed out, there’s something more important: having employees who flat-out love to delight their customers. More than replacing burned-out light bulbs, the park must rekindle the light that used to burn inside every Disneylander.
Ouimet, personable and perceptive, seems to get it. He’s increased worker training. He regularly meets with and listens to groups of employees. He walks the park. He prizes cast members who, as he told The Orange County Register, “feel rewarded simply by helping somebody else.”
If my e-mail inbox is any indication, cast member satisfaction is way up over prior years, when I used to receive a steady, daily stream of grousing from disgruntled hosts and hostesses. Complaints are fewer and more pointed, rather than hopeless despair that everything’s wrong. If anything, after interviewing 500+ cast members since 1987, 2004 is the first year that I haven’t heard someone say, “Morale has never been lower.”
Yet, despite seeing a few more smiling faces each time I visit the park, I still can’t envision a modern-day Mr. Schuch writing that letter today, floored by “outstanding courtesy being shown to every one of Walt Disney’s guests.”
Is it too much to hope for, that every cast member takes pride in his or her job and contributes positively to the Guest Experience? Perhaps. Maybe it’s unrealistic as long as the Company is run by executives who transparently build their bonuses by how much they can cheapen the product.
Or maybe it’s unrealistic because the Disneyland Resort now employs nearly ten times as many people as it did in 1957. “Casting agents” can’t be quite as picky when they have to fill a thousand low-paying jobs from a pool of 2,000 applicants as they could when they were filling 100 prestigious positions from a pool of thousands.
Me? I’m still holding out hope for a resort-wide cast member revival. I think it’s just going to take a while. Cast members are waiting; they want to be sure the improvement is sincere, that it’s not just a marketing gimmick to appease finicky passholders for the 50th or to quiet angry shareholders for the next stockholder meeting.
I’m looking forward to that day—when employees no longer say, “I work at Disneyland.” They say, “I’m a Disneylander,” because, once again, it’s not simply where they work. It’s who they are.
