Today I booked 14 flights for Partner and 4 flights for myself. She’ll end up taking 5 or 7 of them. I’ll probably take 2. I also cancelled 5 flights for Partner and 3 for myself. I have one final flight to book as soon as Partner’s Chase points transfer to her Southwest account. That’s 27 flight transactions in a single day. This isn’t how most people travel. But since Southwest allows for free cancellation and rescheduling (when one uses Southwest points for the purchase), Partner and I currently have a few thousand dollars worth of Southwest points. The flexibility is worth a significant amount of money to us; the company captures our revenue and earns the float on our points. We also have Companion Pass, meaning Partner flies for $5.60 on any flight that I take. 

We have a particular version of brand loyalty: the sort of loyalty that comes from aligned interests. If Southwest removed Companion Pass, I would drop them immediately. If they nerfed flight cancellations, they’d get less of my business (I’d fly less). That’s how I think about most versions of brand loyalty: I’m loyal to a brand because their promises are traits I want. But the moment they break those promises, I’ll leave. The best brands keep consistent values across generations. Nintendo started as a playing card company. Apple has had dozens of different product lines, some with impressive longevity (the iPhone is on its 29th generation). The successful years for Disney are the ones when they have compelling, family-friendly animation. 

I wonder if the dearth of options for previous generations, coupled with today’s novel speed of iteration, makes for less brand loyalty. Perhaps less loyalty in general. 

The world is a large, beautiful place. Explore. Fly somewhere. Use Southwest. 

Games Played

Partner, on the phone with Chase Bank: “I’d like you to… unsecure my account.”

Partner would like to clarify that she intended to say “un-scare”, which I also find amusing. (Partner’s credit card account was locked for security purposes.)