Conflict can be a spectacular sport when played well
It always amuses me when luxury brands react to complaints like guests on Jeremy Kyle waiting for the lie detector results.
I adore a good argument. Conflict can be a spectacular sport when played well. I get it from my mother.
She’s a master of the civilised put-down, capable of ending a discussion with nothing more than, “Darling, what a fascinating position.” Aristospeak for “You’re wrong, possibly deranged, and I’m bored now.”
So it always amuses me when luxury brands react to complaints like guests on Jeremy Kyle waiting for the lie detector results.
Apologies start wailing, a manager is summoned, who arrives looking panicked and in need of a stiff drink.
The panic is misplaced. They think it’s about the product, it rarely is. The product might be the trigger, but the pain is the disconnect.
Luxury clients don’t complain out of spite. They do it because a promise wasn't kept.
The gap between what was implied and what was delivered. The soft, silent promise of 'this will feel exceptional' was broken.
A promise that was made through tone, reputation, or misguided marketing. The kind of marketing that insists a four-star hotel with a conference centre is a “luxury country house.”
What brands forget is that a complaint isn’t a threat, it is however, a behavioural test. Often unconscious, but absolutely real.
The client isn’t just annoyed. They’re disappointed and let down.
And how you respond is being closely watched. Do you flinch? Start quoting policy like a gregorian chant? Or do you say, “I see the problem, and I’m going to fix it”, and actually mean it?
That’s the line that matters. “I’m going to fix it.” That single phrase triggers trust restoration. It doesn’t just solve the issue, it repairs the relationship.
Not through grovelling, but with clarity, confidence, and control.
And do you know what's fascinating? Clients don’t remember the entire interaction. They remember the peak (problem) and the end (outcome).
It’s called the Peak-End Rule, so when things do go wrong, and they will, it's at that moment your brand becomes unforgettable. Whether it's for the right or wrong reason is your choice.
Fix it properly, and you haven’t just salvaged the moment. You’ve rewritten and reframed the memory.
-----
P.S. We’ve launched a Substack. I know. I hate it too. There’s a link on the website if you insist on encouraging this sort of thing.