Commercial aviation approaches the business truism “If you can’t measure it, you can’t manage it” in two ways. The public reporting of many of the measurements used to judge the performance of an airline — on-time departure and arrival times, for instance — are compulsory. The rate of lost and delayed bags is likewise on the record.
But when not compelled to report an aspect of operational efficiency, there is less pressure to address issues that are nonetheless of great importance to passengers. For instance, what does it matter if my flight is on time but I’m subsequently staring at a motionless luggage carousel for 30 minutes or more, wondering when bags will drop?
There are variables around luggage delivery that seem eminently addressable but aren’t, or aren’t with consistency. Schemes to bring predictability and structure to this aspect of airline operations — delivery-time guarantees or special areas for luggage from frequent flyers — are announced from time to time. But in my experience, after an initial positive outcome, the results become more miss than hit, and the programs are quietly dropped.
One highly visible initiative that has been maintained for many years is the placement of some sort of “priority” label into the luggage tag of frequent flyers who have attained status with an airline. There is some logic to this practice that goes beyond elitism and ego-stroking; frequent flyers are more likely to be seated near the front of the plane and may arrive at the carousel as much as 15 minutes ahead of those sitting in the very back.
Nonetheless, nine times out of 10, the entirety of a flight’s luggage eventually falls onto a carousel in a seemingly random order, priority tags notwithstanding.
The airlines have a lot of information about passengers that could help them deliver bags in a rational manner, and technology could even make it seamless and invisible to flyers. Among the data that can be factored into prioritizing luggage for delivery is not only where someone is seated in the plane (more reliable even than status) but, for instance, whether an international traveler has Global Entry.
That program, in particular, has become so efficient that arriving passengers on cross-border flights barely have to nod to immigration officers as they walk from the aircraft to baggage claim. But once there, they may as well have queued up with everyone else to get their passport inspected; instead of waiting in an immigration line, they wait for their bags to arrive, perhaps last of all, at the carousel.
Airlines already have known-passenger information to alert them to print “TSA PreCheck” on a boarding pass; it seems reasonable that they could likewise know whether a passenger is enrolled in Global Entry, as well.
I do understand that technical solutions could run into logistical realities that are beyond an airline’s control. Labor-related mandates may complicate delivery. Baggage handling capabilities at individual airports vary. Unique foreign airport protocols may complicate things. And security and customs concerns will always trump customer service.
But if there is any effort being made to bring sensible baggage delivery methodology to passengers, I don’t see it, with one exception: Flight crews’ luggage tends to come off international flights first. I certainly don’t begrudge pilots and flight attendants that privilege in the least, but it’s visible proof that, when an airline truly wants to prioritize certain luggage, it can.
If neither IATA nor SITA want to devise a standardized approach, I think the airline that took the lead would be applauded and rewarded for adding some measure of predictability into this final responsibility. Or, at the very least, they could avoid the angry tweets and other public expressions of frustration.
While on one hand, luggage delivery is seldom the prime motivator for choosing a particular flight or airline, an increasing number of frequent travelers I know have become committed “carry-on only” travelers. This has two consequences for airlines: too many carry-ons for the overhead space and a reduction in ancillary bag-check revenue.
The airline that cracks this problem could add a very resonant element to a marketing campaign. I’m hoping for something like the Westin “Heavenly Bed effect.” According to Barry Sternlicht, who was CEO of Starwood (now part of Marriott), when Westin launched the campaign, beds were never at the top of customer concerns in surveys or focus groups. But once it was decided to put a spotlight on beds, the response was so positive that the standard for bed quality was raised at every other hotel brand, as well. In a short period of time, mattresses with a trench down the middle became a thing of the past.
If airlines don’t approach this voluntarily and consumers get fed up, carriers may face a less attractive (to them) alternative: The FAA may decide that, indeed, measurements are required for management, and put baggage delivery into the public record.Â