Should restaurants promise more than they plan to deliver?

Should businesses be careful in what they promise in their marketing materials?

Back in February, my son-in-law and I drove a truck and trailer cross country to deliver his son’s (my grandson’s) belongings to him. We figured the trip would be about a 30-hour drive from the Boston area to Colorado Springs, Colorado. We planned to share the driving and figured we could make it there in a couple of days if we left early in the morning each day and drove into the evening.

A bit of weather slowed us down, but we still found ourselves making good time. At the end of the second evening of driving, we stopped late for dinner at a chain restaurant that served breakfast all day and featured a country store selling nostalgic snacks and items; guests entered and left the dining area through the store.

The service was not particularly swift. After we had been seated for quite a while, we overheard a manager apologizing to a large party for how long their food had taken and how when food finally did arrive, it had not been what they’d ordered. The manager apologized and offered them free dessert.

We spent our time studying the sizable breakfast menu. I was particularly pleased that the menu indicated that any eggs would be “cooked to order.” When the waiter arrived I confirmed that “cooked to order” meant any style and they assured me that was the case. I placed my order for two poached eggs on toast and my son-in-law placed his order as well. Several minutes later our waiter returned to tell me that they don’t do poached eggs.

Now, in the scheme of things, telling customers you serve eggs any style or “cooked to order” when you know there are some styles you simply won’t do or orders you won’t take is not the end of the world. Should I have made a fuss? Maybe. But to what end? It was not likely that I was going to force the chef to poach an egg he didn’t want to poach. At the time of night we were eating after a long day of driving, if I chose to leave in a huff, I would go to bed hungry.

I responded to our waiter that it kind of means they don’t honor what’s on the menu. I ordered eggs over easy instead, and they nodded and took the order.

Businesses should make sure that they deliver on what they advertise. If they have no intention of doing so, then the right thing is for them not to promise otherwise and hope no one calls them on it. The restaurant had an extensive menu with many options and it served breakfast all day. Certainly that was enough without making false promises.

It took a while, but our meals finally arrived. My son-in-law’s meal was not what he had ordered. He told our waiter that they had delivered several side dishes, all of which were the same and none of which was what he had ordered. The waiter took his plate back to the kitchen for corrective action. No one offered us a free dessert.

Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of "The Simple Art of Business Etiquette: How to Rise to the Top by Playing Nice," is a senior lecturer in public policy, emeritus, at Harvard's Kennedy School. He is also the administrator of www.jeffreyseglin.com, a blog focused on ethical issues. 

Do you have ethical questions that you need to have answered? Send them to jeffreyseglin@gmail.com. Follow him on Twitter @jseglin

(c) 2024 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by TRIBUNE CONTENT AGENCY, LLC.

How we lose can define us

How important is it to be a good loser?

The year I was a senior in college, the band Steely Dan released its song “Deacon Blues.” A lyric from it has always stuck with me: “They got a name for the winners in the world. I want a name when I lose.” Walter Becker and Donald Fagen followed those lines with: “They call Alabama the Crimson Tide,” to make their point about how winners (in this case, the University of Alabama’s powerhouse football team) got a name. But then in an effort to provide a name to the loser narrating the song: “Call me Deacon Blues.”

It may not be a happy message, but the song gave a name to the losers of the world if we wanted to use it: Deacon Blues.

Losing, however, is not always a dire experience. Sure, approaching challenges with a desire to win can be a good practice. But even DJ Khaled, who sang, “All I do is win,” has had his occasional high-profile run-ins with losing. (You can look it up.)

From an early age, how we behave when we lose can help define our character. We learn it’s not OK to walk off the field of a baseball game if the opposing team is beating us by a dozen runs. We learn that it’s not OK to quit a competitive board game when it becomes clear we are going to be decimated. We learn not to walk away from the corn hole toss when our opponent’s bean bags seem magnetized to go in the hole while ours always fall short.

When we agree to a game, we agree to the rules of that game and there’s a sense of grace and honor to stick with that game even when we lose. There is no honor in trying to change the rules of the game halfway through or crying foul every time an opponent comes out ahead. There is no valor in claiming that you couldn’t possibly have lost a baseball game since your team scored more runs than it ever had scored in a game before, even if such parsing ignores that fact that the opposing team won because he scored even more runs than your team.

Sure, winning is great. It’s a blast to the ego to come out on top. But part of the understanding of competition is that not everyone is going to win.

Learning to accept our losses graciously, to congratulate our opponents on their victory this time, and then to go off and perhaps work hard to try to win the next time; these are some of the marks of an honest competitor.

And when we lose, as each of us will at something sometime, it’s not because the outcome was rigged. Sometimes we just lose, and then we move on. Call yourself Deacon Blues if it helps, but the right thing is to show some honor in defeat.

Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of "The Simple Art of Business Etiquette: How to Rise to the Top by Playing Nice," is a senior lecturer in public policy, emeritus, at Harvard's Kennedy School. He is also the administrator of www.jeffreyseglin.com, a blog focused on ethical issues. 

Do you have ethical questions that you need to have answered? Send them to jeffreyseglin@gmail.com. Follow him on Twitter @jseglin

(c) 2024 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by TRIBUNE CONTENT AGENCY, LLC.