Last December I worked with a hotel leadership team in Dayton, OH. One of the discussions lead to identifying the obstacles that stood in the way of creating promoters of its hotel.

Consumer research firm Bain and Company defines promoters as those customers who are the least price-sensitive, have the highest repurchase rates, and are responsible for between 80 and 90 percent of positive word-of-mouth.

One of the executives, Ryan, mentioned that the frequency of problems experienced by hotel guests was an obstacle. In examining this further, it became clear that a contributing factor was the condition of the hotel’s guest rooms due to needed renovations that had been postponed due to the economy.

And they’re not alone. I’ve spoken with numerous hoteliers who are in the same position. They must now get by with a product that, in a more robust economy, likely would have been renovated by now. Because the product is worn, it contributes to the increase in reported problems experienced by hotel guests.

So what’s a hotel to do? Here’s an idea that I received from Horst Schulze, Founding President and Former COO, The Ritz-Carlton Hotel Co., LLC. Mr. Schulze calls it the C.A.R.E. (Clean And Repair Everything) program:

Before the C.A.R.E. program, Ritz-Carlton hotels would take an entire floor of a hotel out of service once a year in order to deep-clean guest rooms. By doing so, its guest rooms would not deteriorate as quickly. At 75 percent occupancy, a typical Ritz-Carlton hotel room would last for five years.

Under the C.A.R.E. program, four rooms were taken out of service and deep cleaned every day. This meant the room was like new every three months. In a typical Ritz-Carlton hotel, a ten year-old room was newer and cleaner looking than a two year-old room in other hotels.

What effect did the C.A.R.E. program have on the frequency of problems experienced by its guests? The Ritz-Carlton Hotel Co., LLC is a two-time recipient of the Malcolm Baldrige National Quality Award. During the last year Ritz-Carlton received the award, there was only one reported defect per 10,000 room nights sold!

What has your experience been? What are you doing to anticipate and reduce the problems experienced by your own customers?

Earlier this week, a friend of mine passed along a copy of Daniel Pink’s latest book, Drive. It was a pleasant surprise because, having read his bestseller, A Whole New Mind, it was on my buy list. One of the reasons I enjoy reading authors like Daniel Pink, Malcolm Gladwell, Thomas Friedman, and others, is that they consistently challenge deeply held assumptions that I’ve guarded for years.

And while Drive opened in this way—causing me to rethink what I’d previously accepted as truth—I soon read a sentence that reaffirmed what I’ve known to be true for years: “Work consists of whatever a body is OBLIGED to do, and Play consists of whatever a body is not obliged to do.”

The implication of this truth, as it applies to my work in the field of customer service, is that to the extent employees see their jobs as a series of algorithmic tasks (the bullet points that make up so many job descriptions) as opposed to heuristic tasks (opportunities to “perform” outside of one’s job description), they will most likely focus on job function (the algorithmic tasks associated with their job role) at the expense of job essence (the heuristic tasks that contribute to their highest priority).

What’s their highest priority? For most customer service employees it’s to create delighted customers—those who will repurchase, be less price-sensitive, and recommend the company or brand to others.

The disconnect I most often experience as a customer of an airline, hotel, restaurant, or department store, is that employees tend to execute their jobs as a series of algorithmic tasks (e.g., issuing a boarding pass, obtaining a valid method of payment, taking an order, or ringing up a purchase) that they would define as work. In some cases, they might even define these tasks as routine or monotonous. And whenever customers detect monotony from employees, it contributes to perceptions of bland, uneventful, and indifferent customer service.

The opportunity then lies in reframing employees’ views of their job roles. That is, expanding job descriptions from a myopic set of required algorithmic tasks that focus on job function to include optional heuristic tasks that support job essence.

Here is what it might look like in a hotel:

Among other job tasks, a front desk agent’s job description presumably includes obtaining a valid method of payment from each guest prior to issuing a room key. That’s an example of an algorithmic job task (i.e., following a set of established instructions) that fulfills the employee’s job function of checking-in guests. In many hotels, employees and guests alike would characterize this procedure as transactional, process-focused, and predictable—each one like the last one.

Now imagine the above algorithmic job task being completed in a way that fulfills the employee’s job function while, at the same time, supports the essence of her job role: to create a delighted customer.

Perhaps the desk agent smiles, makes eye contact with the guest, and says, “That’s a lovely tie. It matches your suit nicely. Who is the designer?” The guest, flattered by the remark, may then proudly answer, “Louis Vuitton” or “Robert Talbott.” Either way, he will be complimented that she noticed and will likely characterize the experience as exceptional, guest-focused, and unexpected. And while he probably won’t recall the transaction at all, he’ll remember the compliment for a long, long time.

All the desk agent did was expand her job description from a defined set of required algorithmic tasks (i.e., obtaining a valid method of payment from the guest) focused on job function (i.e., checking-in a guest) to include an optional heuristic task (i.e., providing a sincere and specific compliment) that supports job essence (i.e., to create a delighted customer). In doing so, she expressed her own uniqueness and creativity by doing something that was entirely optional and beyond the confines of her job description.

The late J.W. Marriott, Sr. said it well when he reflected on his own view of work: “There weren’t these two opposites, work and play, one bad and the other good. It was having a vision of the way things ought to be and then making them that way.”

That quote really encapsulates the message of this post. To the extent that employees view their jobs as a series of others-directed obligations, their jobs will seem more like work—with all the limitations and monotony associated with it. And to the extent that employees exercise their freedom to self-direct their performance using a variety of optional techniques, their jobs will seem more like play—with all the freedom and satisfaction associated with it.

Comments? (Please don’t feel obligated…they’re optional.)

When was the last time you checked yourself into a flight and checked a piece of luggage at a self-service kiosk at the airport?

Like supermarket self-service checkout stations or ATMs, I find these kiosks helpful. Once they become familiar, they’re easy to navigate and usually end up saving me time.

Last week, I was flying out of the Denver International Airport and checked myself in using one of these kiosks. Because I checked a bag, I needed to wait for an airline representative to verify my ID, affix the luggage tag to my bag, and give me a receipt for my checked bag.

While the flight check-in only took about a minute before the machine issued my boarding pass, the wait for an airline representative to accept my luggage and issue a baggage receipt took much longer.

After checking my email and social media accounts on my BlackBerry to pass the time, I finally walked over to a pair of employees who were managing the line and asked one of them if she could help me to collect my baggage receipt so that I could be on my way.

Without acknowledging me in any meaningful way, the employee walked over to another bank of kiosks where a number of airline employees were clustered serving passengers and said something. A minute later, after finishing up with her current passenger, a female employee made her way down to my kiosk and mechanically said, “Checking a bag?”

I answered “Yes” and she said, “You need to check your bag in here (motioning to the kiosk), before I can accept it.”

I told her that I had already checked the bag in at the kiosk and was simply awaiting my receipt.

She then said, “I don’t see a receipt. Are you sure you checked your bag in?”

About this time, a male employee who was working behind the kiosk to my right handed her a luggage tag and receipt that apparently had printed from his station.

She then robotically asked for my ID, examined my drivers license, and handed me my receipt. Her farewell and gratitude for my business were bundled in the word, “Next?” as she motioned towards the line of passengers awaiting check-in.

Reflecting back on this customer service experience, I would describe it as routine, transactional, process-focused, and uninspiring (it certainly doesn’t inspire loyalty, future spending, or recommendations). And, unfortunately, it happens all the time.

Experiences like this one lead me to the primary question of my work: Why is it that we expect for those who serve us in person or over the phone to be attentive and engaged yet, on most occasions, encounter employees who are aloof and indifferent?

Your thoughts human reader?

Have you ever sensed an adversarial, “us vs. them” mentality from employees of service organizations?

Perhaps you were on the receiving end of what you would describe as rude or abusive behavior? Or perhaps it was more subtle—like dismissive body language or an exasperated sigh? Maybe it did not even involve you and was just something you overheard or observed?

Just last month I witnessed a supermarket employee chastise a customer in the store’s parking lot. When the customer failed to return his shopping cart to a designated cart collection area, the employee called out sarcastically, “Excuse me. That’s not where the cart goes!”

I get it. I know that supermarkets provide signage and make it relatively easy for customers to return their shopping carts to designated areas throughout the parking lot. And most customers cooperate and return the carts as requested. But a few customers do not for a variety of reasons: they have young children in the car, it’s raining, they’re in a hurry, etc.

Why is this employee competing with his customer regarding whose responsibility it is to properly secure the shopping cart? That’s an argument he will never win. After all, it’s his job to collect and return the shopping carts. That’s what he’s paid to do!

The customer’s only obligation is to pay for his groceries. And we can assume he’s done that. Instead of being admonished, he should be appreciated.

Last baseball season I was having lunch at one of the downtown sports bars in Lodo, across the street from Coors Field in Denver. As the game got underway, the restaurant quickly emptied as fans left for the ballpark.

About that time, three couples entered the bar and seated themselves at one of the many available tables towards the front of the bar. I noticed they were carrying burritos they likely bought from one of the many vendors selling food on the streets of Lodo prior to the Rockies game.

Within a few minutes the group was confronted by a server who said, “You can’t eat those in here.”

One of the guests, attempting to reason with the server, said, “We’re planning to order some beers and watch the game.”

The server reprimanded the group saying, “You’re not allowed to bring food into the restaurant—even if you order something to drink.”

From that point on, I was unable to make out what either party said because the comments were mostly under their breath. I can, however, attest that neither party appreciated the other and the group spent no money at the bar that day—and perhaps never will.

Now, I know that restaurants are in the business of selling food and that if every customer brought in his own food, then the restaurant would suffer. And most restaurants likely have formal policies against such “breaches of trade.”

Still, why the jousting? Is there another way the server could have handled this situation that would have resulted in a different outcome—one that might have benefited the guests, server, and establishment?

A few years ago, I was seated in the boarding area at Dulles International Airport awaiting my fate as a standby passenger on the last nonstop flight to Denver. About ten minutes after the last passenger boarded, my name was called and I was given a seat assignment and permitted to board the plane.

As I was the last passenger to board, all eyes were on me as I struggled to find space for my garment bag in the overhead bin. Just then, one of the flight attendants called down the aisle, “Ladies and gentlemen, we can only depart when this man is seated.”

She seemed to relish in using a perverse form of peer pressure to motivate me to quickly stow my bag and be seated. As I had yet to make any friends on the flight—and weary airline passengers can be quite ruthless—I settled into a most uncomfortable center seat for the ride home.

Again, I get the airline’s policy requiring all passengers to be seated with seat belts secured prior to departure but couldn’t this flight attendant have found a way to communicate this message without publicly admonishing her customer?

Always compete for customers, not against them. You’ve probably heard the saying: “You never win an argument with a customer.” It’s true. Even if you have signage to point to or a policy to reference, if you offend a customer then you lose—maybe a little or maybe a lot.

The next time that you draw a line in the sand between you and your customers, consider inviting them to cross the line. That way, you can be on the same side.

How about you? What is your experience or example?