The Magic Store

We traveled last weekend to Disney World with two objectives: 1) family bonding 2) running a 10-mile race through Hollywood Studios.

Both were accomplished in spades; we enjoyed time with Chris' parents, and managed to at least survive the run. Though we made a few hard-learned notes for next time:

1. Night races sound like fun. Having to wait until 10:45pm to get across the start line, finishing after midnight, and not getting back to the hotel room until 2:30am because you’re stuck in hordes of sweaty people waiting for transportation is not fun.

2. When running a 10-mile race at night, do not spend four full days before that walking around amusement parks. Your tired feet will not thank you.

3. Do not put your camera (even if it is in a hard case) in the runner’s checked bag area. Apparently moving these bags from the start to finish line involves letting a chimpanzee fling them against a hard surface, because your camera will somehow mysteriously stop working while in bag check.

4. There are some very, very dedicated fans out there. Dedicated enough to make it 10 miles, in the dark, in the sticky heat in full-body Disney costumes. Props, my friends, props.

Our running exhaustion aside (and I over-complain a bit for effect; we really were glad we did the race), one of my favorite events from the trip was a “Keys to the Kingdom” tour, a five-hour behind-the-scenes tour of Magic Kingdom. While I will respect the Las Vegas-like code (read: what happens off-stage, stays off-stage) so as not to ruin the magic, our tour guide explained a few interesting elements of Disney’s strategy:

“Some call this fantasy.  But this is not fantasy, because fantasy is not real. This is our version of reality.” This was one of our tour guide’s opening lines, and it perhaps best sums up the Disney experience. The whole idea is for magic that is completely submerging – you see it, touch it, even smell it (apparently the Main Street confectionary bakes pans of water/spices that smell like cinnamon rolls when they aren’t cooking the real thing to still give you the right effect). 

There are also over 500 Disney employees that do nothing but maintain the park landscaping. Are people there to look at flowers? No. But will they lose part of the experience/magic by walking around a concrete desert all day? Yes. Moral: Consider your purpose from 360 degrees. If any one of the elements fails – the bakery looks great but doesn’t smell like anything – the entire experience falters.

“Safety, Courtesy, Show, Efficiency.” These are the four pillars of Disney, in order of decreasing importance. Interestingly (and importantly), show comes before efficiency. Disney convinces thousands of people to pay hundreds of dollars for time in their parks by immersing them in an experience. Wisely, they know that cutting corners on that experience, to perhaps reap more profit today, will eventually destroy their brand. Moral: Know thyself. If thy selling point is thy customers’ experiences, thou shalt not cheapen their experience.

“Find the right role for everyone.” One of the “human capital” (to use a business school buzzword that I hate) elements Disney strives for is fitting the right people to the right role. Fake happy is not pretty, and both kids and adults can sense it from a mile away. Disney spends considerable time and money making sure that they have everyone in a roll that best suits them. Moral: Grumpy Mickey = emotionally traumatized children, but grumpy Mickey might flourish as creepy elevator-intake employee at the Tower of Terror.

“Lost but not forgotten.” When classic rides or characters are replaced, Disney’s Imagineers leave (often hidden) nods to them throughout the parks.  For example, when the 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea ride was replaced by Winnie-the-Pooh, the tree house entrance to the new ride included a discreetly hidden compass sign from 20,000 Leagues. Also, like the opening credits to a movie, windows above Main Street stores as you first walk into the park cite important people and friends that helped Disney begin. This includes, of course, a window to Roy Disney (in the adjacent picture if you can make it out in the third story windows) as well as many others. Moral: Just because times have changed doesn’t mean that you can’t remember from the past. Carry your memories and lessons into the future.

“A good guest experience, no matter what it takes.” This one sounds obvious, but takes patience, and a long-term view. As our tour guide explained, the goal for park guests is not that they spend a lot of money in the parks; it is that guests make positive associations with the Disney brand name. The end goal is not even that people continually come back to the parks; instead the goal is for people to continually come back to the Disney franchise.  While this broader view takes long-term thinking and team-playing, it’s quite brilliant, as the brand locks in kids and their parents with a magical park experience (even if the park experience isn’t hugely profitable), that brings them back to stores to buy movies, merchandise… and one day, a trip to take their own children back to the park, beginning the cycle again. Moral: Being willing to go the extra mile – or extra 10 miles – to ensure a good guest experience doesn’t just make you a good business owner. It can make you a very profitable one when viewed correctly.

“Because we’re Disney.” A final thought, and a refrain we heard frequently throughout the tour. For Walt (and his brother Roy), details made the experience. Moral: Quality, quality, quality, quality, quality. Did we mention quality?

“Tourguide, why did the park go to the trouble of actually measuring out a real horses’ paces to mark off horse-shoe imprints in the concrete sidewalk to precise, correct specifications?” “Because we’re Disney.”

“Tourguide, why did the park hang leather-bound shutters for a year to see exactly how much they would have sagged in Colonial times before replicating that exact angle with still bindings?” “Because we’re Disney.”

“Tourguide…”

You get the picture.