The Smile Factory
The Smile Factory
John Van Maanen
Disneyland as the self-proclaimed “happiest place on earth” occupies an enviable position in the amusement and entertainment worlds as well as the commercial world in general. Its product, it seems is emotion – “laughter and well-being”. Bill Ross, a Disneyland executive, summarizes the corporate policies nicely by noting that “although we focus our attention on profit and loss, day-in and day-out we cannot lose sight of the fact that this is a feeling business and we make our profits from that. The “feeling business” does not operate by management decree alone. Whatever services Disneyland executives feel they are providing to the 60-70,000 visitors per day, employees at the bottom of the organization are the ones who most provide them. The work-a-day practices that employees adopt to amplify or dampen customer spirits are therefore a core concern of this feeling business. The happiness trade is an interactional one. It rests partly on the symbolic resources put into place by history and park design, but it also rests on an animated workforce that is more or less eager to greet the guests, pack the trams, push the buttons, deliver the food, dump the garbage, clean the streets, and in general marshal the will to meet and perhaps exceed customer expectations. False moves, rude words, careless disregard, detected insincerity, or a sleepy and bored presence can all undermine the enterprise and ruin a sale. The smile factory has its rules. Employees number close to four thousand and run the 60 odd rides and attractions of the park. They are a well-screened bunch. There is – among insiders and outsiders alike – a rather fixed view about the social attributes carried by the standard-make Disneyland ride operator. Single, white makes or females in their early twenties, without facial blemish, of above average height and below average weight, with straight teeth, conservative grooming standards, and a chin up shoulder back
John Van Maanen
Disneyland as the self-proclaimed “happiest place on earth” occupies an enviable position in the amusement and entertainment worlds as well as the commercial world in general. Its product, it seems is emotion – “laughter and well-being”. Bill Ross, a Disneyland executive, summarizes the corporate policies nicely by noting that “although we focus our attention on profit and loss, day-in and day-out we cannot lose sight of the fact that this is a feeling business and we make our profits from that. The “feeling business” does not operate by management decree alone. Whatever services Disneyland executives feel they are providing to the 60-70,000 visitors per day, employees at the bottom of the organization are the ones who most provide them. The work-a-day practices that employees adopt to amplify or dampen customer spirits are therefore a core concern of this feeling business. The happiness trade is an interactional one. It rests partly on the symbolic resources put into place by history and park design, but it also rests on an animated workforce that is more or less eager to greet the guests, pack the trams, push the buttons, deliver the food, dump the garbage, clean the streets, and in general marshal the will to meet and perhaps exceed customer expectations. False moves, rude words, careless disregard, detected insincerity, or a sleepy and bored presence can all undermine the enterprise and ruin a sale. The smile factory has its rules. Employees number close to four thousand and run the 60 odd rides and attractions of the park. They are a well-screened bunch. There is – among insiders and outsiders alike – a rather fixed view about the social attributes carried by the standard-make Disneyland ride operator. Single, white makes or females in their early twenties, without facial blemish, of above average height and below average weight, with straight teeth, conservative grooming standards, and a chin up shoulder back