Dear easyJet, Thank you for missing the opportunity to delight 33% of your customers whilst at the same time p#ssing off 66% of your customers with your ancillaries pricing strategy.
So, apparently 33% of your passengers don't buy any ancillaries at all. They don't pay extra for luggage, they don't pay extra for speedy boarding, they don't pay extra for a pre-booked seat, they don't pay extra for insurance, a hotel, car hire, car parking, airport transfer etc etc.
In other words their basic expectations are met. They see the advertised price of a flight and then that's what they get for that price – a flight. Albeit in its most basic form. And, I suspect, with a heavy dose of dissatisfaction and a “needs-must” attitude.
But this does mean that the expectations of 66% of your customers are mismanaged and disappointed.
What starts as a, say £500, mental image of what it will cost to fly the family to somewhere in Europe based on the advertised or first quoted by the website price, soon becomes a £1000 miserable reality. Made horrifically worse by the maddening multiple stages and UX of adding on the “extras” which are, in one's mind, actually “essentials”.
Why not flip it? Why not manage the expectations better? Why not delight a few and play it straight with the many? Why not advertise the full price (including the essentials – luggage, a seat) and then delight the 33% by giving them the option to remove these items, for a lower price?
By choosing the path you have, you've reminded me of the multiple psychological and cognitive levers – including pricing - which a brand can pull on to create stronger and longer lasting relationships with its customers.
The 33% under-the-seat-in-front-luggage-only flyers would still feel amazing. “Look how much we got off the price, we can buy our toothpaste when we land, Judith!”
And meanwhile the 66% would not feel quite as ripped-off, dissatisfied, and forced into an unwelcome corner, “Well, I knew it was going to be expensive, but at least we don't have the last-minute stress of having to weigh and assess the dimensions of the new wheely-bag when we're already late and the traffic on the way to Stanstead looks like it'll be bad, Darling”.
Calling all those smart Behavioural Economist and Cognitive Bias experts out there… Is this a case of Loss Aversion in reverse?
Feels like there are additional mental heuristics at play here? Maybe the Additive Bias, our tendency to prefer adding things to removing them, is stronger? (I love the case of the traditional approach of adding Training wheels or Stabilisers to an existing bike being a much less effective way of teaching kids to ride a bike than simply removing pedals to create Balance Bikes. Less is more.)
My understanding of Loss Aversion is that the pain of losing is psychologically twice as powerful as the pleasure of gaining.
So, in this instance the “loss” of having to pay much more than initially anticipated (literally losing more money) that is experienced by the 66%, is psychologically twice as impactful as the pleasure of the “gain” that the 33% get…except the 33% don't currently get a gain, they just get par, what they expected.
So why not flip it easyJet? To reduce the pain of losing for the majority, whilst taking advantage of the opportunity to delight the remaining 33%?
Anyway, thanks again easyJet. And no, I don't want a €7 mini-pot of Pringles, but since you've already disempowered and infantilised my cognitive resilience with your pricing strategy, I guess I'll have two please…as long as I can keep this seat by the window?
Oh. Well, you have got more £ out me then. But I'll resent you, I'll dislike you, I'll grumble and next time I'll try to fly with anybody else. Until I realise that you're the only one that flies to where I want to go. Ned