I know in-flight Wi-Fi prices have increased recently, but $300 for one cross-country round trip? I don't want that happening to you.
I know in-flight Wi-Fi prices have increased recently, but $300 for one cross-country round trip? That’s essentially what Gogo Inc. charged me recently. And I don’t want that happening to you.
If you’ve ever used Wi-Fi on an airplane, check your credit card bills. Now. The firm that dominates the U.S. in-flight Wi-Fi market — Gogo Inc. — seems to have a bad habit of charging consumers’ credit cards when they aren’t looking.
In my experience, Gogo even took my money when it was expressly told not to.
I asked Gogo twice to offer comment for this story. The firm did not respond.
You probably know the basic elements of the story I am about to tell. Everybody knows the credit card auto-renewal game and how lucrative exploiting laziness can be. Heck, America Online still has 2 million paying customers. Exploiting laziness is one thing, so is the “make it really difficult to cancel” game. But refusing to honor cancellations? That is quite another.
If you fly, you probably know that Gogo has raised prices dramatically. Good for them. I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner. I find in-flight Wi-Fi very valuable. For a few bucks, I can turn a lost travel day into a productive day. So $10? $15? Even $25? Worth it to me.
Entering the dragon’s lair
On a flight in April, I was surprised to find the single-trip price had soared all the way to $30, or $60 for my round-trip. But Gogo also offered a monthly subscription for $49. Great, I thought. I’ll do that, save $10 and cancel after a month. I knew I was entering a potential dragon’s lair. I knew Gogo priced things precisely to steer me in this direction, with the hope that I’d be lazy and end up paying for at least one month of service I didn’t need. I also knew that the fine print around canceling was a bit odd:
“You may cancel your monthly subscription at any time by contacting Gogo Customer Care (via phone:1.877.350.0038 or email: firstname.lastname@example.org,” it said, without an end parenthesis there. “If you wish to cancel your monthly subscription and avoid a charge for the next month, you must do so at least two (2) days before the monthly renewal date of your subscription. (The monthly renewal date is the same day of the month that you first subscribed). If you do not cancel at least two (2) days before the monthly renewal date for your subscription, but you do cancel before your monthly renewal date, contact Gogo for a refund. If you cancel after your monthly renewal date, you will be charged for the next month and your cancellation will be effective the following month.”
Here’s one brain twister: If you have to contact Gogo to cancel, why would you have to contact Gogo separately to get a refund if that cancellation is within two days of your renewal? I didn’t want to find out.
So I took all precautions. I set up digital reminders well before that two-day window to ensure I canceled the service on time.
Then, a few days after my trip, I set out to cancel. Naturally, canceling was harder than signing up, which itself shouldn’t be (but is!) allowed. There was no way to cancel on the website. So I initiated the requisite chat with a customer service representative who called herself Claire. (Why chat? Because I’d have an instant record of it. More on that in a moment.)
Claire tried, with aplomb, to convince me not cancel. (I had no other flights planned, so a monthly subscription to Wi-Fi that works at 30,000 feet had no value to me.)
“If you prefer, I could suspend your subscription for a month. That way you don’t have to re-purchase later,” Claire said. This is a clear setup, of course, with another chance to forget and end up paying for the service. No, I said, “Please do as I asked right now, Claire, and cancel the subscription immediately.”
After a back-and-forth, Claire relented.
But I know this game, and I planned for trouble. I asked for a confirmation code. I was told there was no such thing, but was promised a confirmation email.
“We’re sorry to see you go and look forward to seeing you back soon. I’ve cancelled your subscription. You’ll still be able to use it through 05/07/15, however, there will be no additional automatic renewal.”
That phrase “no additional automatic renewal” bothered me. But I know my rights, and I trust my credit card issuer (USAA) to have my back, and I didn’t know what other evidence I could gather, so I disconnected. I saved a copy of the chat transcript. And I got the email from Gogo.