<p>A few weeks ago, your columnist boarded an evening flight out of Delhi. The aircraft was new, the cabin crew attentive and the meal service, by airline standards, was perfectly respectable. For those who remember the tired old days of Indian aviation, this was not a small improvement. The airline had clearly invested in training, grooming and systems. The crew smiled more naturally and appeared better prepared. Then, halfway through the flight, the illusion began to disintegrate. One passenger decided that the aisle was an extension of his drawing room. Another left the washroom in a state that no civilised person should inflict on the next traveller. A third spoke to the crew as though courtesy was an act of surrender. By the time the aircraft began its descent, the service experience had changed. Not because the airline had failed, but because some of its customers had. </p><p>This is one of the less discussed realities of service businesses. Service quality is not produced by the company alone. It is also produced by the customer. Hotels, airlines, restaurants and hospitals can train employees, invest in technology and set standards. But the final experience is shaped in the space where employees and customers meet. If that space is contaminated by bad behaviour, the service provider is often blamed for a failure it did not entirely cause. This is unfair to employees. A cabin crew member can clean a washroom, but cannot follow every passenger into it. A hotel can prepare a beautiful breakfast room, but cannot fully control the guest who arrives in pyjamas. The problem has grown because India’s consumption economy has moved faster than its civic culture. Many more people can now afford premium services. This is a good thing. The difficulty lies elsewhere. Money can buy access to a service environment but it does not automatically produce the manners required to sustain it. </p><p>In the hotel trade, pricing was once a crude filter. Tariffs separated categories of guests and managers assumed that those who paid more would behave better. That assumption is now unreliable. Affluence and etiquette no longer move together. There are guests who spend freely but behave poorly and there are modest customers who show consideration for staff and fellow guests. The issue, therefore, is not wealth. It is civic restraint. This matters because bad customers damage more than staff morale. They damage the experience of other customers. A dirty aircraft washroom or a noisy hotel corridor create an intolerable atmosphere. Other customers leave with a bad taste, subconsciously, attaching that discomfort to the brand. </p><p>The brand, in turn, has limited room to respond. Employees are trained to be courteous, not confrontational. In India, unlike in western countries, service staff often hesitate to correct customers firmly because escalation can become ugly. The badly behaved guest may invoke status or threaten social media outrage. Many companies consequently choose the safer path. They apologise to the offender and quietly repair the damage for everyone else. This has a hidden cost. It teaches employees that dignity is conditional. It teaches decent customers that standards are negotiable. It teaches bad customers that entitlement works. Over time, the service culture weakens, not because the company has not tried hard enough, but because it has not been supported by the behaviour of those it serves. </p><p>For CXOs, this is an uncomfortable management lesson. Customer centricity does not mean customer servility. Hotels and airlines need clearer codes of conduct and greater backing for frontline employees who politely uphold standards. They must learn to say, with grace but firmness, that certain behaviour is unacceptable. We speak often about the quality of service providers. Perhaps it is time to speak also about the quality of customers. Good hotel rooms are not maintained by staff alone. They are maintained by everyone who enters them. </p>
<p>A few weeks ago, your columnist boarded an evening flight out of Delhi. The aircraft was new, the cabin crew attentive and the meal service, by airline standards, was perfectly respectable. For those who remember the tired old days of Indian aviation, this was not a small improvement. The airline had clearly invested in training, grooming and systems. The crew smiled more naturally and appeared better prepared. Then, halfway through the flight, the illusion began to disintegrate. One passenger decided that the aisle was an extension of his drawing room. Another left the washroom in a state that no civilised person should inflict on the next traveller. A third spoke to the crew as though courtesy was an act of surrender. By the time the aircraft began its descent, the service experience had changed. Not because the airline had failed, but because some of its customers had. </p><p>This is one of the less discussed realities of service businesses. Service quality is not produced by the company alone. It is also produced by the customer. Hotels, airlines, restaurants and hospitals can train employees, invest in technology and set standards. But the final experience is shaped in the space where employees and customers meet. If that space is contaminated by bad behaviour, the service provider is often blamed for a failure it did not entirely cause. This is unfair to employees. A cabin crew member can clean a washroom, but cannot follow every passenger into it. A hotel can prepare a beautiful breakfast room, but cannot fully control the guest who arrives in pyjamas. The problem has grown because India’s consumption economy has moved faster than its civic culture. Many more people can now afford premium services. This is a good thing. The difficulty lies elsewhere. Money can buy access to a service environment but it does not automatically produce the manners required to sustain it. </p><p>In the hotel trade, pricing was once a crude filter. Tariffs separated categories of guests and managers assumed that those who paid more would behave better. That assumption is now unreliable. Affluence and etiquette no longer move together. There are guests who spend freely but behave poorly and there are modest customers who show consideration for staff and fellow guests. The issue, therefore, is not wealth. It is civic restraint. This matters because bad customers damage more than staff morale. They damage the experience of other customers. A dirty aircraft washroom or a noisy hotel corridor create an intolerable atmosphere. Other customers leave with a bad taste, subconsciously, attaching that discomfort to the brand. </p><p>The brand, in turn, has limited room to respond. Employees are trained to be courteous, not confrontational. In India, unlike in western countries, service staff often hesitate to correct customers firmly because escalation can become ugly. The badly behaved guest may invoke status or threaten social media outrage. Many companies consequently choose the safer path. They apologise to the offender and quietly repair the damage for everyone else. This has a hidden cost. It teaches employees that dignity is conditional. It teaches decent customers that standards are negotiable. It teaches bad customers that entitlement works. Over time, the service culture weakens, not because the company has not tried hard enough, but because it has not been supported by the behaviour of those it serves. </p><p>For CXOs, this is an uncomfortable management lesson. Customer centricity does not mean customer servility. Hotels and airlines need clearer codes of conduct and greater backing for frontline employees who politely uphold standards. They must learn to say, with grace but firmness, that certain behaviour is unacceptable. We speak often about the quality of service providers. Perhaps it is time to speak also about the quality of customers. Good hotel rooms are not maintained by staff alone. They are maintained by everyone who enters them. </p>
