A Primer In Managing the Expectation Gap

No gap equals satisfaction

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The Expectation Gap Explained

You may have heard of the  “Expectation Gap” principle. If you haven’t, I bet you already know it, even if you aren’t aware that you know it!

The expectation gap is simply this: The difference, or the “gap,” between what you expect and what you get.

Another name for the concept is the “disappointment gap.” That’s because you are disappointed when you receive less than what was expected or promised.

Set a realistic expectation, deliver what was promised, no gap! Better yet, deliver what was expected PLUS a little something extra, and you will have avoided any disappointment and exceeded expectations!

My dad constantly reminded me of that lesson, worded just a little differently.

“Do your very best work and then put a bow on it by giving a little extra.”

We have all experienced the expectation gap when we didn’t receive what was expected.

Purchasing fast food comes to mind. The food slid across the counter on a plastic tray or in a paper bag has little resemblance to the picture of your tasty entree depicted on the window poster or the menu board.

Is anyone up for a smashed double burger, cold greasy fries, and a soda weak with syrup?

Or when you walk into your hotel room for the first night of your long-anticipated ten-day vacation?

“What was that scurrying sound? Did you hear that too?”

But conversely, how wonderful it is when what was promised was delivered or exceeded your expectations! Such grateful bliss. 

An Early Life Lesson About Managing the Expectation Gap

A Young Wannabe Solo-Preneur

I started mowing lawns in our Northern California neighborhood when I was ten.

It was midmorning on a bluebird summer day, and I wanted some spending money.  My dad’s green and slightly rusted manual push mower, known as a “reel” mower, stood at attention in the corner of our small single-car garage.  The solution was obvious and innocent enough. Hijack the lawn mower and patrol the neighborhood, offering to mow people’s small front yards for $2 each.

Brilliant! I would have my pockets overflowing with cash by 5 o’clock that afternoon before my parents came home from work. 

For the uninitiated or a walk down memory lane for the more “mature” set, let’s pause briefly and describe that demon manual push mower. 

The steel frame of the classic reel mower holds everything together. An axel between two wheels within the frame allows movement. Depending on the model, three or five long, slightly curved blades rotate with the axle to cut against the straight "bedknife " fixed to the frame. A T-bar with two handles extends from the top of the frame for manually pushing and maneuvering the mower.

The wheels drive the reel via a gearing system as you push the mower forward. The blades along the axle spin rapidly with the motion of the wheels. The scissor-like action of the spinning blades passing closely over a stationary blade, known as the bedknife, cut the grass. This method provides a clean and precise cut. The height of the cut can be adjusted by altering the distance between the reel blades and the bedknife.

Finding the First Paying Customer

Dressed in the traditional summer garb of a white Towncraft T-shirt from J.C. Penney, cutoff jeans, footwear of dark crew socks and black Converse canvas shoes,  I began trudging the reel mower around our small neighborhood with my freckle-nosed friend Terry in tow.

We knocked on a few doors. No answer.

Then, finally, some action! 

A stocky, intimidating man with Butchwaxed flattop hair and an anchor tattooed on his inner forearm came to the door wearing jeans, socks, and a white sleeveless tank top undershirt. 

Holding a pack of open Lucky Strike cigarettes, the dwelling lord scrutinized the two wide-eyed, hopeful boys before him. 

“Mow your lawn for two bucks, mister?” I asked.

He stared down at my scrawny ten-year-old body, focused on the push-mower parked on the sidewalk, studied the long grass of his lawn, and then looked back at me.

He cocked his head to the left, slapped his thigh, and began laughing.

“Kid! Ain't no way you can push that machine through my grass!” he said, wagging his head.

Still amused and chuckling, the old guy took a few steps back on the hardwood floor into his dim living room. The door swung shut and latched, laughter still coming from the other side.

Dejected, Terry and I retrieved the mower. 

Try Again.

Leading the way, I  placed my hands on the handle grips at chin level and pushed on to the neighboring house, the blades making a smooth whirring sound as the two wheels rolled on the cement walk. 

We were being watched through the parted white horizontal Venetian blinds of a large living room window as we walked up to the porch.

This small house offered a doorbell and a brass knocker on the plain brown wood door.

Knocking felt more friendly than ringing the doorbell.

As I reached for the brass knocker, the door flew open.

“Hello, young men!” The older man offered in greeting.

This guy was different from his neighbor.

Tall, well-kept, and full head of salt and pepper hair slicked back. He was wearing jeans too but had on shoes and a short-sleeved plaid shirt tucked into his trousers cinched with a nice brown leather belt sporting a brass buckle.

“What are you two boys up to today?”

“Mow your lawn for two bucks, mister? We’ll do a fine job!”

My heart sank while he sized me up like that last guy.

“You think you can push that mower through my grass?”

“Oh yes, sir!”

He offered a knowing smile. “Okay. Two bucks, then? Get started!”

The expectation gap is fully exposed.

Ecstatic, I took a few steps to the lawn mower, raised skinny arms to my chin, and laid two hands on the T-bar handle grips. With a hearty push, the mower effortlessly glided a couple of feet across the concrete sidewalk and into the small patch of lawn.

Where it stopped dead.

I leaned into the work with all the strength I could muster. My Converse shoes slipped, the mower handle, and my hands angled overhead.

Nothing. 

Terry joined me in the effort, creating a two-boy power mower. 

We gained three inches, the mower grinding to a halt after cutting only a few blades of the thick green grass.

The summer sun was quickly adding heat to the day.

With a flash of insight, I understood why my brothers, who were six and twelve years older than me, hated mowing the small front lawn of our house. 

Humiliated, I slowly lifted my chin and met the gaze of my employer. 

He was grinning! Not laughing at me, but more of an approving smirk.

“Hey, kid! How about this? I’ll mow, and you two rake.”

Relieved, we quickly agreed, a no-brainer even for a couple of knuckleheads. 

An hour later, hot and sweaty, the lawn was mowed, raked, and the grass clippings disposed of. 

It felt good to be done with the task. But, continuing down the street soliciting another lean mowing job was out of the question. It was getting hotter. Terry and I were too pooped even to consider more work.

Embarrassed, I knew I had overpromised and underperformed and would be pushing the lawnmower back home with our pockets just as empty as when the day started. 

And my friend Terry had followed me into this debacle. On the bright side, a happy kid and a faithful buddy, he would laugh it off and look forward to our next adventure later that same afternoon when the day's heat had passed.

We were licked, and we knew it.

With Terry standing behind me, smiling as always, I faced our employer and returned his two lawn rakes.

“Thanks, mister.”

He smiled, which eased my tension. “I appreciate your help. Please thank your dad for letting me use his mower.”

I gathered up the push mower and took a few steps down the sidewalk toward home, the blades spinning to life as the hard black rubber wheels glided across the hard concrete.  

Then I heard, “Hey, kid!”

I stopped and turned to face my grinning, older neighbor.

“The next time you offer to work for somebody, make sure you can deliver what you promise.”

He handed me two single dollar bills and another two singles to Terry. 

Our eyes widened, “Really? But we didn’t mow your lawn. You did!”

“I like your moxy, kid. Here. Take it. You worked hard.”

Lesson Learned

I am grateful to a kind neighbor who took the time to teach a couple of boys their first lesson in expectation gap management.

That lesson has stuck with me during my career.

In the community banks and other businesses I owned or helped manage over the years, we had regular conversations and held many training sessions about setting realistic client expectations and then meeting or exceeding them.

Managing the expectation gap is also a valuable life skill and can improve the emotional quality of your personal life.

Consider the circumstances when you have felt disappointed in some product, service, or interpersonal exchange. Perhaps your dissatisfaction with the outcome was so evident that you became frustrated or even angry. Maybe even spoke a few words that your mother would not appreciate hearing!

The extent of the gap size will become apparent when you briefly analyze any satisfying or disappointing outcome.

What result were you expecting?

What was the actual outcome?

What was the distance or gap between the expected and actual results? 

It’s a simple formula.

Disappointment increases as the gap between what was expected and what was realized increases.

Conversely, as the gap narrows, satisfaction increases!

I hope you found the principle of expectation gap management worthwhile,

Thanks for reading and thinking for yourself! Be sure to subscribe so you do not miss out on future posts.

Russell Anderson

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P.S. Helping each other publish peace and tidings of great joy is a big part of what we hope to accomplish with the Fifty-two Seven Alliance. You are invited to join us in this endeavor when you are ready!

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