I'm writing this from a plane.  I've been in the air for an hour and everything is fine, but for a few minutes before the flight, things weren't fine.  At roughly the time we were supposed to board (on an already late in the evening flight), the gate attendant came over the mic to announce that there was a staffing problem on our flight, and they were "beginning the process" to get it sorted out.  He'd get back to us when he had an update.  Huge groan across the hot and overcrowded gate area. Then, maybe two minutes later, he gets back on the mic and says: "update on this -- we've got our staffing problem resolved, thanks to Dave!" (and points to our new flight attendant Dave, who is standing next to him, ready to board the plane, grinning). The room erupted in applause, interspersed with an extended round of "yeah Dave!" and "attaboy Dave!".  Smiles everywhere. Excitement.  Good mirth.  Everyone was not only relieved that our flight wasn't terribly delayed, but they were more happy than if there had been no problem at all. This is an (admittedly trivial) example of one of my all-time favorite phenomena, the Service Recovery Paradox, defined on wikipedia as: "a situation in which a customer thinks more highly of a company after the company has corrected a problem with their service, compared to how he or she would regard the company if non-faulty service had been provided."  Amusingly, the first example on wikipedia is a canceled flight. And it held true in this case.  After the first announcement, the attitude in the room was "dammit Jetblue, get your shit together".  And after the second, it was "love Jetblue because they have Dave!".  But in all seriousness, it wasn't the swift recovery that mattered, it was the way the team at the gate handled it. I think about this all the time, and it just underscores how important it is not just to prevent bad things from happening, but being ready to respond really well when they do.  Whether that's a hack, a bug, or just a plain old mistake.  And it's a great reminder that when a problem does happen, your work isn't over; it's just beginning. And that you have the chance to not only fix it, but to make things better than they were.

I had an interesting experience today.  As I was in the air on my way to San Francisco, I got a text from my Airbnb host saying that they had made a mistake and accidentally double-booked my room.  I ended up taking their offer to cancel and booked a hotel room (at a steep increase in price).  Then they asked if I would call Airbnb and say the cancellation was mutual, so that they wouldn't get "dinged".  I didn't like that idea. Then, after I asked for a regular refund, and after some more back and forth, it appeared there was some confusion between my host and her assistant, and the room actually was available, and no I could not have a cancellation.   This was a problem because my new room was already book, with no way to cancel without paying a big penalty. The whole situation felt fishy, scammy.  I looked back in the reviews of the apartment, and I noticed a few other last minute cancellations (I hadn't looked super closely the first time).  Texting with my colleague Bethany about it, we talked about the importance of writing a real review of the situation and processing a formal complaint through Airbnb.  I thought: it's so great that Airbnb is there to handle disputes like this, to be the sheriff when people go off the rails and do shady stuff. I made the point that I needed a cancellation, and finally the host asked if instead of a formal cancellation, could I accept a paypal refund.  I thought about this, and my first response was: no way -- I want this to go on the official record so this kind of shady behavior can't continue. Then, I remembered earlier in our conversations, when I first booked the apartment.  In the instructions, the host suggested I tell the front desk I was a "friend", visiting (because, of course Airbnb isn't allowed in that building).  In my mind, I played along just fine with that, happy to be complicit in our little ruse -- because the apartment looked great, and what's the big deal anyway. So, fast forward to our refund situation: now I no longer feel like I have any moral high ground to demand a formal close out -- in my mind, I was complicit in the shadiness when I was cool with fooling the apartment building.  How is that any different than agreeing to sidestep the Airbnb platform rules? Just goes to show how difficult it is to build a real trusted environment.  On the one hand, Airbnb does a fantastic job building trust and accountability using its platform.  On the other hand, a wink and a nod on one end of the platform (renting an apartment where I shouldn't) makes it hard to really stand up for the rules on the other end (reviewing the host for bad behavior). Our chat in the Airbnb app ended with the host saying "U r nice person."  Not sure how I feel about that.

Over the past few weeks, I've been touching base with many companies and individuals in the tech sector to understand how they are reacting to the current political environment. Every company and community (of users, customers) is different, with its own sensitivities, priorities, and goals.  So it's been really interesting to understand the very wide range of contexts and positions that companies are taking.  For instance, many tech companies have employee bases who skew left-leaning, but may also have user and customer communities that are very diverse (especially across red and blue states).  And even those companies who may skew left internally, they are generally sensitive not to alienate any Trump supporters on staff.  So it's complicated. As the white house continues to issues executive orders on issues like immigration that hit tech companies directly, and as issues like transgender rights -- that are outside the pocketbook interests but may intersect with a company or community's values -- come up, it feels as though companies are going to continue to be under pressure to take public stands. As this happens, one of the things I've been noticing is that some of the best ways to engage on issues are native to the platform -- meaning, rather than simply signing a letter, there can be more creative, powerful, and ultimately more straightforward ways to get involved. For example, our portfolio company Casetext, which builds a legal research tool that they sell to law firms, has offered free access to their platform for any lawyer working on civil liberties and civil rights issues:

What's so beautiful about this is that it doesn't involve taking a complicated political stand that runs the risk of alienating users or customers.  Instead, it is completely aligned with the core mission of the company and value proposition of the platform.  This reminiscent of Airbnb's offer to host refugees for free, which is similarly elegant and platform-aligned. Further, a risk in the current political environment is "outrage fatigue" -- the rapid fire nature of policy today is exhausting, and individuals are feeling buffeted by the constant news onslaught.  So efforts like these are a nice counterforce, in the sense that they are proactive, constructive, and provide a longer-term basis of support for issues that matter. I'm on the lookout for more opportunities like these.