In a world where technological wizardry and its kaleidoscopic and dazzling applications increase exponentially, private clubs are certainly no exception to the rule. Club websites, as but one small example, are now more sophisticated than ever before, allowing members to pay their monthly bills online, make tee times and dinner reservations with a few clicks of a mouse, offer “sites within sites” that are accessible only by Board Members or left-handed, single digit-handicappers, and/or send an immediate e-mail of praise or “constructive criticism” to all club members or virtually any permutation of member sub-groups. Personally, I have no problem with any of this per se. Actually, I agree with my Administrative Assistant’s assessment of all this as “very cool”.

             It is my opinion, however, that a large number of private club members, first and foremost, want their institution to be a safe haven – a place of refuge – from the “real world”. They want it to be a place where the club’s traditions are honored, its culture nurtured, and its history savored and respected. After dealing with the increasingly frenetic pace, mind-numbing technology, and minimization/elimination of personal service in the “outside world” (e.g., “Press 47 if you want to travel to Zimbabwe or Zanesville.”), more than a few people are motivated to maintain their private club membership precisely because such distractions are purposely minimized. In a seeming paradox, the last thing many club members want today is more technology, at least more visible technology. If the appropriate use of technology “behind-the-scenes” improves member service, well, that’s fine; go ahead and use it. If behind-the-scenes technology makes for a better, more efficiently managed club, that’s also great. It’s when the club members themselves become secondary to the technology that the problem arises.

            My wife Cody and I were recently in Alaska on as fantastic ten-day journey. (If you’ve never had the opportunity, I would certainly encourage you to visit one our great country’s last true frontiers.) As part of our adventure, we spent three nights at the history-rich Kantishna Roadhouse – the “end-of-the road” stop at mile 93 on Denali National Park’s one and only “real” road. As it turned out, the computer system was “down” when we entered the bar on the first evening of our arrival. So what did John, the long-time bartender, do? In what I believe is a paradigm example of great private club-like service, he politely introduced himself when we sat down, got my wife and I our drinks immediately, briefly and non-defensively explained the problem “just so we would know”, and promised to add the appropriate charge to our room when the computer started working again. He made sure that the technology did not intrude upon or diminish our service experience! His primary focus was our satisfaction and enjoyment. As an added plus, on our return visit the following evening, John called us both of our surnames and even asked us what it was like living in Mount Dora, Florida. (Our front desk registration information was obviously his source – a smart and appropriate use of technology on his part!) John’s approach was, in my opinion, a close-to-perfect example of how – and how not – to appropriately incorporate technology into a memorable service experience.  

            Looked at from another perspective, why do you think there continues to be seemingly endless discussion and debate among Boards of Directors and House Committees about the appropriate use of cell phones in the private club environment? After all, there can’t be more than a one or two per cent of people in the entire United States who belong to a fine private club but who do not own a cell phone. So why is it that many private clubs, in a seemingly anachronistic debate, focus so much time and energy on developing and enforcing sometimes draconian rules with regard cell phone usage within the property limits of their private club? Is it because these members have too much time on their hands, inherently hate all technology and want to return to medieval times? Of course not! It is because great private clubs consciously choose to place a higher premium on attentive, personalized service in an atmosphere of tradition and respect for their unique histories than on the technology for technology’s sake.

            Interestingly, when working with private clubs around the country in my executive search capacity, I have, on occasion, seen more than one otherwise very strong General Manager, when being interviewed in person by the Search Committee, attempt to “dazzle” the group by talking in far too much (and excruciating) detail about his or her technological prowess. More often than not, it is not a particularly good strategy, with the candidate of choice typically emerging as someone who sufficiently understands club technology - but who has mastered the art of providing consistent personalized, warm, attentive “five star” service.