T5--Revenge of the Technology?

When British Airways announced early this year that the long-awaited Terminal 5 at London Heathrow airport was about to open & would basically save civilization as we know it (or at least save BA), I thought they were tempting the gods.

Actually, I just knew they were inviting a catastrophe of monumental proportions. Anyone with any experience at all with systems implementation knows that things never, never go according to plan. Usually it’s only the C-level crowd who believe a projected launch date is sacrosanct. Especially if it was the Cs who set the date in the first place.

BA placed special emphasis on their “state-of-the-art” baggage handling system, which really was critical considering that in 2007 BA separated more than one million of its paying customers from their luggage. The Wall Street Journal’s 6 March story noted, “T5's baggage system was one of the first elements installed. BA and BAA [British Airports Authority] have run thousands of bags through it since August 2006 to test it.”

The Journal had a choice quote from Willie Walsh, CEO of BA, as he swaggered through a cavernous and empty baggage reclaim hall: “What we really have here is a baggage system with a terminal building built on top of it.”

Well, not so much, as it turned out.

According to a pre-launch MSNBC story, more than 90 bag-drop stations were supposed to “whisk [checked] bags onto 18 kilometers of moving tracks and belts. Bags zip along at up to 30 miles per hour on a system that updates prototypes used in Oslo, Hong Kong and Amsterdam airports.”

& yet by noon on opening day, 27 March, the architecturally stunning terminal looked like a displaced persons camp in 1946; the term chaos didn’t even seem to cover the situation.

BA was apparently shocked & horrified to discover that its vaunted systems—from parking lot security to baggage handling—collapsed like a subprime mortgage scheme. Before the day was out, BA was cancelling dozens of flights (cancellations continued into the next month); of those that did take off the airline refused to check any bags—passengers were given the choice of flying with only carry-on luggage (& the airline didn’t publicize where they were supposed to leave their large bags while the planes took off with empty holds) or getting a refund & rebooking another day.

Not much of a choice if you’re there with the spouse, the kids & four huge suitcases heading for two weeks at Disney World, or a systems implementation consultant packed for a three-month stint managing a project in Kuala Lumpur. One news story showed a woman who’d had to jam her wedding dress into her carry-on bag. She was not a happy bunny.

As for Wille, instead of accepting the accolades of thousands of fare-paying passengers, as he’d obviously anticipated, he was reduced to issuing a watery apology, along the lines of “mistakes were made” (always by unnamed & untraceable individuals): “We are working hard to tackle the difficulties we have had with the terminal’s baggage system. From time to time problems have developed that were not encountered during the extensive trials.”

(I loved the characterization of massive systems failure, thousands of very unhappy customers telling their sad stories to the world press & BA shares dropping like bungee jumpers as “difficulties”. I’m guessing that if the debacle had occurred to a rival airline, he’d have used an entirely different class of noun.)

Walsh also conceded that the opening didn’t represent BA’s “finest hour”. Interesting that he invoked the phrase associated with the embattled RAF holding off the Luftwaffe & saving civilization as they knew it. Probably not the best of comparisons.

(Now, I don’t know this for sure, but somewhere in the nether reaches of T5 there may be a flight suit & a “Mission Accomplished” banner stuffed in a bin.)

Because T5 is a government project, there were Questions in Parliament. Aviation minister Jim Fitzpatrick averred that the ministry had had “no reason to believe” that everything wouldn’t be copacetic. “We were confident in that regard and sure that the matter of the terminal's operation would be effective.” He described the government as “very disappointed” with the situation & conceded it had dented Britain’s national pride.

But in an immediate recurrence of unfounded optimism, Fitzgerald went on to assure the nation that the problems will be resolved & the terminal will be a success: “We believe BA and BAA will be able to show off (Terminal 5) to the world in very short order.”

In typical senior management style, he put no actual, you know, time stamp on the deliverable.

The furor has died down somewhat; passengers aren’t slugging it out with one another or airline staff quite as frequently as at the end of March. God only knows where their luggage is, however.

Two director-level BA execs have fallen on their swords. In April BA announced that Gareth Kirkwood, director of operations (who was quoted on opening day as saying, “We always knew the first day would represent a unique challenge because of the size and complexity of the move into Terminal 5. We are working extremely hard on solutions to these short-term difficulties.” These guys do love the understatement—after the fact.), & David Noyes, director of customer services, would be leaving the company. No comment on whether they jumped or were pushed.

So far Walsh is hanging on to his job (FY 2007 compensation: £611,000)—it’s harder to get a camel through the eye of a needle than to boot a CEO, no matter how public his failure. Stockholders must be in a permanent coma.

There will be Official Inquiries, Questions Will Be Asked in the House of Commons, there will be Reports. & the British flying public will continue booking on BA, because that’s what they’ve always done. Which is probably what the airline was counting on all along.

& there are lessons to be taken from this event. I’ll comment on them from a product management perspective in a later post.

Meanwhile, there has been one analysis that may reveal the true underlying problem: persons with delusions of becoming air passengers had the effrontery to show up at the airport with luggage that they expected to take with them on their travels.

If Willie hadn’t thought of this explanation before now, he may still haul it out for the next general stockholder meeting.

Loaves & Fishes?

A couple of weeks ago the Pope came to town—anyway, to several towns on the East Coast. Apparently, when he wasn’t holding Mass at various venues, meeting with victims of priestly abuse or talking Iraq with the President he was eating.

The wine columnists in the Wall Street Journal wrote a story about one of the banquets in New York. The headline for the article was "What to Serve the Pope". My first thought was Popesicles, but it turns out I wasn’t anywhere near the mark.

No, seems that everyone’s idea was to feed Benedict XVI something…Italian. In DC a local restaurateur wrote about the honour of laying on a lunch for His Holiness. Just an intimate affair, you understand, only 24. The menu:

• Imported Puglia mozzarella, heirloom tomatoes, black cured olive bread
• Zucchini blossom truffle tagliolini, fava beans, artichoke ragout, Pecorino cheese
• Braised veal cheeks, baby spring vegetables, purple mashed potato
• Ricotta cheese, orange fallen truffle, strawberry sorbet

There was also an ornate papal birthday cake, a replica of St. Peter’s Square, complete with image of Benedict.

In New York, the arrangements were somewhat more elaborate. PBS’s madonna of cucina, Lidia Bastianich, prepared no fewer than three all-out meals for Benedict, menus here:

According to Dorothy L. Gaiter and John Brecher, the WSJ’s wine columnists, the NY meals included these wines—all Italian:

• Bastianich Tocai Friulano 2006, $15
• Bastianich Vespa Bianco 2006, $30
• La Mozza Aragone 2005, $35
• Bastianich Calabrone 2003, $75
• Bastianich Perlidia Plus Passito 2003, $75/half bottle

Now all of this got me thinking.

First of all—what’s with all this Italian food and drink? 1) The guy is German. 2) He lives in, you know, Rome. Do we not think he could get all the Italian chow he wants back home? If someone from Des Moines went to Siena or Lille or Munich expecting to be served a T-bone steak and a baked potato he’d be branded as the quintessential Ugly American and a buffoon on top of it. Why go to some foreign place and eat only what you could get at the local Sizzler?

And if that holds for Mr. Des Moines, why should the Pope get a dispensation from the cookery curia?

So why didn’t someone treat the Bishop of Rome to some Memphis style barbecue? Or Tex-Mex menudo, tamales plus a sixer of Tecate? Or California fusion cuisine with some wines from Temecula or Paso Robles?

Or, shoot—going back to point number 1) above, if you want to give him comfort food, why not some brats, potato salad and brewskis from Wisconsin?

Poor guy schleps 5000 miles to get here and all he gets to eat is variations on what he was eating before he got on the plane? Who thought that was a stellar idea?

The other question to arise from these feasts is more troubling. I understand he’s the head of the Roman Catholic Church, and as such probably has to maintain a certain level of, oh, status. But I’m wondering what these meals cost? Sure, it’s an honour to be chosen to serve dinner for the Pope, and of course you want to put out your best dishes, polish the crystal and check the tablecloth for ketchup stains.

But in the same time that the media are full of stories of the global food shortage, when people are rioting over access to basic sustenance as close to us as Haiti and even Costco is rationing its 50-lb sacks of rice to one per customer, what kind of message about caring for his flock is the Vicar of Christ sending by settling down to banquets with 50 of his closest colleagues night after night and putting away several thousands of dollars worth of Wagyu-beef, aged Pecorino, and asparagus? Not to mention $70 bottles of wine?

BTW, this doesn’t count the non-state dinner the White House threw in the Pope’s honor, which Benedict didn’t attend. Apparently he doesn’t do these sorts of things, but that doesn’t stop various heads of state from throwing the parties anyhow.

I can’t figure out whether it’s hubris or oblivion to engage in these ancient régime behaviors. Either way, it leaves a rather bad taste in the mouth. I’d wash it out with a glass of La Mozza Aragone 2005, if I could afford $35 for a bottle of wine.