Daniel Currell, Disney Is the Happiest Place on Earth, if You Can Afford It, Aug. 28, 2025.
About Disney World:
For most of the park’s history, Disney was priced to welcome people across the income spectrum, embracing the motto “Everyone is a V.I.P.” In doing so, it created a shared American culture by providing the same experience to every guest. The family that pulled up in a new Cadillac stood in the same lines, ate the same food and rode the same rides as the family that arrived in a used Chevy. Back then, America’s large and thriving middle class was the focus of most companies’ efforts and firmly in the driver’s seat.
That middle class has so eroded in size and in purchasing power — and the wealth of our top earners has so exploded — that America’s most important market today is its affluent. As more companies tailor their offerings to the top, the experiences we once shared are increasingly differentiated by how much we have.
Data is part of what’s driving this shift. The rise of the internet, the algorithm, the smartphone and now artificial intelligence are giving corporations the tools to target the fast-growing masses of high-net-worth Americans with increasing ease. As a management consultant, I’ve worked with dozens of companies making this very transition. Many of our biggest private institutions are now focused on selling the privileged a markedly better experience, leaving everyone else to either give up — or fight to keep up.
Disney’s ethos began to change in the 1990s as it increased its luxury offerings, but only after the economic shock of the pandemic did the company seem to more fully abandon any pretense of being a middle-class institution. A Disney vacation today is “for the top 20 percent of American households — really, if I’m honest, maybe the top 10 percent or 5 percent,” said Len Testa, a computer scientist whose “Unofficial Guide” books and website Touring Plans offer advice on how to manage crowds and minimize waiting in line. “Disney positions itself as the all-American vacation. The irony is that most Americans can’t afford it.”
Back in the day (when I went to Disneyland on a family trip in the mid-1960s):
Disney was never cheap. A family day at the original Disneyland in California, including tickets, some rides and food for four people, was about a $30 affair when the park opened in 1955, which was a lot of money when the median family income was $4,400. But $30 — roughly the cost of a week’s groceries — was still an attainable number for much of America’s rapidly growing middle class.
In the early years, Disney ticket prices rose so slowly that at times they got cheaper after inflation. An employee handbook from the 1950s quotes Walt Disney as saying, “We roll out the red carpet for the Jones family from Joliet just as we would (with a few embellishments) for the Eisenhowers from Palm Springs.” Versions of Walt’s “Everyone is a V.I.P.” credo were in Disney’s new-employee training materials long after his death in 1966. Fortunately for him and his shareholders, embracing everybody made good business sense. That began to change in the 1990s.
Michael Eisner, Disney’s chief executive at the time, created a bevy of products for the affluent — including fancier hotels, a cruise line and white-tablecloth restaurants. But he rejected the idea of allowing customers to pay to skip lines at the parks, according to a Disney historian, Aaron Goldberg. When a rival, Universal Studios, introduced paid line-skipping in the early 2000s, Disney — perhaps fearing backlash from its large fan base — stood firm.
In the mid-2000s, however, the growing ranks of the affluent presented a profit source that could not be ignored. According to Datos Insights, in 1992 there were 88,000 households worth $20 million or more in 2022 dollars; by 2022, there were 644,000. Those who could pay almost anything for a vacation were becoming their own mass market.
Comes the smartphone and analytics:
At the same time, smartphone apps transformed how companies connected to their customers. In 2012, the My Disney Experience app gave guests an easy way to check wait times, show times, restaurant bookings and more. In return, Disney gained a trove of information on exactly where guests went, what they purchased and how much they spent in its complex. The app eventually became so integrated with a visit that much of a Disney park day can be dedicated to checking it; savvy guests bring an external battery.
More than ever before, Disney and companies like it have access to data showing them who is willing to spend what for which experiences. “Disney is an analytics company that happens to do movies and parks,” Mr. Testa said. [...]
The pandemic was the final blow. Covid shutdowns and the streaming wars delivered staggering financial losses. In October 2021, Disney killed its free FastPass system, upsetting many hard-core fans, and started offering ride reservations for $15 each at Disney World. Over the next three years, the line-skipping options multiplied in number and in price. Disney also offered perks for those staying in its properties — one of them being the ability to make ride reservations before those staying elsewhere.
Middle America at the middle of the 20th century:
America’s 20th century was a fortunate moment when we could rely on companies like Disney to deliver rich and unifying elements of our culture. Walt Disney hoped that his audience would have “no racial, national, political, religious or social differences” — he wanted to appeal to everyone, in no small part because appealing to everyone was profitable. It was a time when big institutions were trusted, and the culture they created was shared by nearly all Americans.
The article follows two very different families through Disney World, an affluent one and a one on the low-end of middle-class.
There's much more at the link.
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