I fly. A lot.
I’m Star Alliance Gold – which means I not racking up “Up in the Air” levels of frequent flyer miles, but I’ll exceed 100,000 miles in the air this year. In my travels, I have learned that some airlines are just better than others when it comes to breaking bad news. I won’t name names, but let’s just say that I’m amazed that an airline so good at landing on the Hudson River can be so BAD at basic customer service.
But for every horror story, you run into a story which just makes you pause, and gives you hope.
I was flying with a different airline, United (notorious for breaking guitars), through Dulles International Airport in Washington, DC. It was the end of the day, and a group of passengers – about 30 – boarded a small regional jet for what was supposed to be a short flight into Harrisburg, Pennsylvania.
We were seated and ready to leave when the dreaded disembodied voice came on. You all know the voice I’m talking about – the voice where some strange man introduces himself, says he’s the pilot… and that “we’re expecting a short delay.” And inevitably, you know what happens next… you sit on the plane doing nothing, wondering what the problem is and why can’t they just fix it.
There’s no sugar coating this – delays suck. You’re stuck on a plane, watching the minute’s tick by; increasingly convinced you’re going to miss a connection. It’s the sense of helplessness that makes it untenable.
But this time it was different.
The pilot came on to say, “Folks, I know you’re not going to like this. I’m sorry, but we have a problem. The folks on the ground here have given us too much fuel. Now, I know you’re wondering ‘Hey, what’s the problem with a little extra gas on board’ but they gave us an extra 4,000 pounds of fuel. That’s going to make us too heavy.”
“Now, we’re not going to kick anyone off the plane to save weight, or anything like that. You’ll all get there, but what we’ve done is asked them to come and offload some of the extra fuel. But it’s not a simple process. They need to find a spare truck, empty its existing load of fuel, and have it come over here. I’ve been on the phone with them and they’re working on it, but I’ve heard two reports – one says ten minutes, the other says forty-five. I’m going to keep working on them and as soon as I have anything else to report back, I’ll let you know. On behalf of United, please accept our apologies. We’re doing everything we can to get us going.”
Lets take a quick look here. First, Mr. Pilot absolutely nailed the cardinal rule of breaking bad news – serve up a healthy dose of empathy. I’m pretty sure United doesn’t teach that to their pilots, but he did a good job.
Interestingly, from a risk communication perspective, it was a classic stand-by statement: Tell them what you know, tell them what you don’t know, tell them where they can go for more information. And here’s the beauty of it – it worked. Rather than mass grumbling, I look around and saw a few resigned shrugs and whispered conversations. People were resigned to the problem, but didn’t appear to be upset with the pilot or more importantly, the airline.
Ten minutes later, we heard back from my pilot with “OK folks, I’ve got a bit of an update. I’ve been on the phone with ground control. They assure me a fuel truck is on its way. They told me five minutes. Now, we all know five minutes means different things to different people, I’m happy they’re doing something about it.”
“We thought about offloading you, but it’s just not worth making everyone disembark, getting new boarding passes, unloading the carry-on luggage and making you go sit in hard plastic chairs in the lobby rather than the chairs you’re in now. But if any of you have any needs or concerns, please talk to Debbie, your flight attendant. She’ll bring it up to me and we’ll do all we can to look after you.
Here’s our pilot nailing a second rule – anticipate the hot button issues and answer the underlying concerns. (Concern – are we stuck on this little tiny plane? Answer: Yes, but let me give you a valid reason why, and serve it up with a healthy dose of empathy.)
Again, I look around, and this time the (now 30 minute delayed) passengers were actually chuckling to themselves.
It was great – a beautiful example of taking what could have been an ugly situation and calming everyone down.
(And for the record – five minutes later there was, indeed, a fuel truck outside our window. We all made it to Harrisburg.)


