Everyday Ambiguity

I always tell my students that no one sets out to enter into an ambiguous contract. Everyone thinks their contract is crystal-clear. Everyone thinks they’ve examined the problem from every angle and have exactly what they want.

Everyone is often wrong. And I include myself in that “everyone.”

I was thinking of this while flying recently. As usual, the flight was overbooked and the airline was throwing cash around looking for volunteers to take a different flight. I’ve never done this before, but my travel plans were decently flexible, and when the price got to be high enough, I figured I’d give it a go. I had the following conversation with the airline employee.

Me: If I give up my seat, when would I get out of here?

Her: We can book you on an itinerary that would get you in 30 minutes later than you would have. In fact, I can confirm you for that flight right now.

Me: I’m confirmed for that flight?

Her: Yes.

So I gave up my seat and walked down to the gate of the new flight I had been “confirmed” on. And here is where the ambiguity arose: When I heard and repeated back “confirmed,” I thought that meant I had a seat on that flight. However, when the airline said the word “confirmed,” what it meant was that they had confirmed me on a list of people who desire to take that flight. Basically, I was confirmed on the standby list. Which wasn’t at all what I wanted. Long story short: I got in 19 hours after I was supposed to, not 30 minutes. And the whole time I was kicking myself, because I teach contracts law! I should be alert to the possibility of ambiguity! During that conversation, I should have asked for an actual seat assignment. Or even used the words “I have a seat on that flight.” But I didn’t. I understood “confirmed” to be referring to a completely different concept, and then I re-used the airline’s word, with a completely different understanding in mind. (I like to think we never understood each other and so there was never a meeting of the minds but that was cold comfort while I was sitting around O’Hare for many hours.)

I decided to use the entire situation as a real-life lesson: The ambiguity entered because I did nothing but repeat their words back to them. I should have, instead, repeated back to them what I understood their words to mean. I tell my students all the time: Say what you mean in your contracts; don’t beat around the bush. But it’s so easy to flub that in the heat of the contract-making moment. It’s so easy to think that, actually, you are saying what you mean.

Which is why we have contracts cases.