Going back to the Brooks Barnes article: one of Bruce Vaughn's points of pride is the fact that MyMagic+ ostensibly personalizes the WDW experience by allowing attractions and characters to directly interact with guests using information gleaned from the data on his or her MagicBand.
But, other than very young children, how many guests affirmatively value or desire this type of personalization? (I'm not discounting young children; obviously, they are an important demographic to Disney parks. But, especially where there clearly are legal and ethical issues concerned, a functionality that appeals primarily to the very young simply can't be a substantial justification for a multi-billion dollar program.)
When a rudimentary form of personalization was introduced on the E.T. Adventure over two decades ago, it attracted attention because it was a novelty... but it never became more than that, nor was it ever viewed as any sort of cutting-edge enhancement to the traditional theme park experience. Although what Disney is doing certainly has the potential to go far beyond a wrinkly grey animatronic mispronouncing your child's name, it's not substantively different in that this type of personalization has never been warmly received by the public.
In the science-fiction movie Minority Report, Tom Cruise's character enters a Gap store, where a cheerful virtual employee greets him by name and asks him how he's enjoying a previous clothing purchase. The scene does not come across as a flattering or optimistic portrayal of future technology -- rather, it was generally taken by audiences as a negative commentary on and satire of how targeted advertising was progressing in 2002. As such, it was both creepy and amusing in its exaggerated depiction of intrusive marketing. Audiences did not view such consumer personalization as something to aspire to, but rather something to avoid.
When "personalization" is -- as the word itself suggests -- premised on personal interaction, it can be incredibly meaningful. But that entails the existence of, at the very least, an actual familiarity. When someone with whom you have a genuine relationship -- such as a trusted, longtime family doctor -- addresses you by name, it is gratifying and appreciated, but largely because that person has earned the right to interact with you with that degree of familiarity.
In contrast, when companies and organizations with whom you have never had any kind of personal relationship send you junk mail letters addressing you by name, the personalization immediately rings false because it is a function not of familiarity but purely of marketing. It is insincere, because it seeks to invoke a degree of familiarity that is unearned.
I agree very strongly that "personalization" is fundamental to a fulfilling, even (dare I say it?) magical Disney vacation -- but I disagree that having an animatronic bird directly address each guest (Vaughn's example) is the way to do it. In a way, Disney has been a pioneer in guest personalization all along, simply by creating deeply immersive theme park experiences.
When the theming, set pieces, effects, and soundtrack of an attraction are so engrossing that the guest easily suspends disbelief and feels, for just a few minutes, that he or she is an integral part of the fantastic narrative that the attraction tells -- that's personalization. You don't need an animatronic pirate or ghost to call out your name, because emotionally and mentally you're already fully immersed in their story -- it's become your story purely by virtue of the storyteller's skill and your own imagination.
Now that is true personalization... and that is what Disney needs to do -- by going back to its own strengths -- to provide its guests with deeply felt experiences that will make them want to come back again and again.
