The Imagineering Story: See Their Wants (But Know Their Needs)

by · March 24, 2026

This is the third of a five part series based on lessons learned from The Imagineering Story: The Official Biography of Walt Disney Imagineering by Leslie Iwerks. We’re covering five things that those of us in the church world can take away from gifted artists, thinkers, creators, and engineers. See the Top Ten Quotes post here, or get started on the series here.

Read any Disney history, and you’ll discover that the early 80s were a tumultuous time for the company. Over a decade removed from Walt’s death, leadership still struggled with the question of “What would Walt do?” Box office receipts were slipping. Over at EPCOT – Disney’s third and newest park – they’d veered far from Walt’s original vision and were $400 million over an already astounding $800 million projected budget.

And then there was the leadership crisis.

Based on the issues listed above (and a slew of others), a rift among the board and shareholders led to Walt’s son-in-law Ron Miller being pushed out as CEO. Michael Eisner was shoulder-tapped to lead the company alongside Frank Wells, who was named President and Chief Operating Officer. The duo entered the company in this time of significant upheaval, and spent their first few years reexamining everything, from feature films to the parks’ pricing structures to the ride vehicles themselves. Imagineer Tony Baxter tells it this way:

Eisner’s second visit to Glendale was less than a week after his first. It was a Saturday, so his son wasn’t in school. “I don’t know anything about this business yet, but I will learn,” Eisner said. “In the meantime, Breck loves amusement parks, so I want you to take him through whatever you have.” “I remember thinking, ‘My career depends on a thirteen-year-old?’” Baxter said. “And so I pitched up Star Tours and he says, ‘Dad! That is so cool!’ And Michael says, ‘Okay, we’re doing it. What’s next?’” Baxter’s next idea was for a super-sized log-flume ride incorporating characters from Song of the South, the 1946 Disney movie last seen in a 1980 rerelease. “And I thought, ‘Well, this will be harder for a thirteen-year-old boy, because it’s Brer Rabbit and whatnot.’” So Baxter didn’t pitch the characters; he told Breck about “the steepest hill in the world” and the unique dip drop in total darkness on the inside of the ride. Breck responded, “Dad! That’s even better than Star Tours!” And Eisner said, “Okay, we’re doing it. What else do you have?”

When you think about it, there’s a bit of genius in this strategy. If a company aimed at families has lost its way, why not let the younger members of the family call the shots? Eisner’s gamble – and Breck’s fascination – paid off, and both Star Tours and Splash Mountain went on to draw huge crowds at two of the parks.

Takeaways for the church world (part one):

Much of the church growth curriculum of the last three decades has focused on target demographics: if you’re going to grow a church, know the people you’re going after, and build an outreach strategy around them. To be clear, I think much of that is pragmatic at best, irresponsible at worst, and not what we see modeled in scripture, but for the sake of this illustration, let me be charitable:

  • You’re not going to reach kids based solely on what makes sense to their parents.
  • You’re not going to reach parents if you only aim for their kids.
  • You’re not going to reach men if both your decorations and your language is flowery.
  • You’re not going to reach women if you take an uber-patriarchal view of leadership.

So certainly, there’s some sense in knowing who you’re trying to reach and structuring around them. It made sense for Disney to greenlight projects based on the instincts of the CEO’s 13 year old. It makes sense for churches to design spaces that aren’t just functional for kids, but actually fun.

But there’s a danger. There’s a point where the pendulum swings too far. Disney found that point, and ironically, Disney offers some caution to church leaders on how we can avoid the swing.

Around the time of Breck’s visit to Glendale, plans were bubbling up for a new Florida venture called Pleasure Island. It was a bold-faced attempt to target young adults and get them to stick around on property after the day’s fun at the parks had ended. It was also designed to lure locals, making it a nighttime hangout in the Orlando area.

And it worked – for a while. But after an initial phase of “mission accomplished,” the project lost its way. The shine wore off. Iwerks explains one reason why:

Pleasure Island was a case study in what could happen when Imagineers disregarded some of “Mickey’s Ten Commandments.” In particular, the complex seemed to stumble on Commandment Number One – “Know your audience” – and Commandment Number Two – “Wear your guest’s shoes.” The Commandments were written by Marty Sklar, he later said, “to explain and remind fellow Imagineers about the foundation principles on which our success has been built.”

Takeaways for the church world (part two):

Any number of rationale can be given for Pleasure Island’s eventual demise, and any number of applications can be drawn from what those of us in the church world can learn from the lessons of Disney World. But I’ll narrow the applications down to one: we should be aware of what people want, but be faithful to what people need.

Scripture is full of the want vs. need paradox: Abraham wanted an heir. The wandering Israelites wanted meat. The new nation of Israel wanted a king. Jesus’ detractors wanted Barabbas. People following their wants and whims – or leaders following the wants and whims of the people – almost always leads to a bad place.

Knowing your audience doesn’t mean surrendering to their hearts’ desires.

That’s not to say desires are inherently bad, it’s just to remind us that our hearts are deceitfully wicked. I’ve found that our desires are shadows that point us to something greater. Something better. Something eternal.

Oddly enough, it was Mickey’s Ten Commandments that could’ve kept the Imagineers out of the conundrum of only giving the people what they want. Had they been true to their values, they would have likely avoided Pleasure Island and avoided a lot of the pain along the way.

Since the wheels are coming off of this analogy pretty fast (and the word count on this article is piling up), let me summarize and make my exit: church leaders can’t be guilty of pandering to desires. Should we make people feel loved and cared for? Certainly. Should we help them make a beeline to Jesus? Absolutely. Here’s the problem: the first one doesn’t always feel like the second one is the natural solution. But if we’re to be faithful to our calling, we have to call others up to the glory of the gospel and the life change that Jesus brings.

See all the posts in this series:

photo credit

This is the third of a five part series based on lessons learned from The Imagineering Story: The Official Biography of Walt Disney Imagineering by Leslie Iwerks. We’re covering five things that those of us in the church world can take away from gifted artists, thinkers, creators, and engineers. See the Top Ten Quotes post here, or get started on the series here.

Read any Disney history, and you’ll discover that the early 80s were a tumultuous time for the company. Over a decade removed from Walt’s death, leadership still struggled with the question of “What would Walt do?” Box office receipts were slipping. Over at EPCOT – Disney’s third and newest park – they’d veered far from Walt’s original vision and were $400 million over an already astounding $800 million projected budget.

And then there was the leadership crisis.

Based on the issues listed above (and a slew of others), a rift among the board and shareholders led to Walt’s son-in-law Ron Miller being pushed out as CEO. Michael Eisner was shoulder-tapped to lead the company alongside Frank Wells, who was named President and Chief Operating Officer. The duo entered the company in this time of significant upheaval, and spent their first few years reexamining everything, from feature films to the parks’ pricing structures to the ride vehicles themselves. Imagineer Tony Baxter tells it this way:

Eisner’s second visit to Glendale was less than a week after his first. It was a Saturday, so his son wasn’t in school. “I don’t know anything about this business yet, but I will learn,” Eisner said. “In the meantime, Breck loves amusement parks, so I want you to take him through whatever you have.” “I remember thinking, ‘My career depends on a thirteen-year-old?’” Baxter said. “And so I pitched up Star Tours and he says, ‘Dad! That is so cool!’ And Michael says, ‘Okay, we’re doing it. What’s next?’” Baxter’s next idea was for a super-sized log-flume ride incorporating characters from Song of the South, the 1946 Disney movie last seen in a 1980 rerelease. “And I thought, ‘Well, this will be harder for a thirteen-year-old boy, because it’s Brer Rabbit and whatnot.’” So Baxter didn’t pitch the characters; he told Breck about “the steepest hill in the world” and the unique dip drop in total darkness on the inside of the ride. Breck responded, “Dad! That’s even better than Star Tours!” And Eisner said, “Okay, we’re doing it. What else do you have?”

When you think about it, there’s a bit of genius in this strategy. If a company aimed at families has lost its way, why not let the younger members of the family call the shots? Eisner’s gamble – and Breck’s fascination – paid off, and both Star Tours and Splash Mountain went on to draw huge crowds at two of the parks.

Takeaways for the church world (part one):

Much of the church growth curriculum of the last three decades has focused on target demographics: if you’re going to grow a church, know the people you’re going after, and build an outreach strategy around them. To be clear, I think much of that is pragmatic at best, irresponsible at worst, and not what we see modeled in scripture, but for the sake of this illustration, let me be charitable:

  • You’re not going to reach kids based solely on what makes sense to their parents.
  • You’re not going to reach parents if you only aim for their kids.
  • You’re not going to reach men if both your decorations and your language is flowery.
  • You’re not going to reach women if you take an uber-patriarchal view of leadership.

So certainly, there’s some sense in knowing who you’re trying to reach and structuring around them. It made sense for Disney to greenlight projects based on the instincts of the CEO’s 13 year old. It makes sense for churches to design spaces that aren’t just functional for kids, but actually fun.

But there’s a danger. There’s a point where the pendulum swings too far. Disney found that point, and ironically, Disney offers some caution to church leaders on how we can avoid the swing.

Around the time of Breck’s visit to Glendale, plans were bubbling up for a new Florida venture called Pleasure Island. It was a bold-faced attempt to target young adults and get them to stick around on property after the day’s fun at the parks had ended. It was also designed to lure locals, making it a nighttime hangout in the Orlando area.

And it worked – for a while. But after an initial phase of “mission accomplished,” the project lost its way. The shine wore off. Iwerks explains one reason why:

Pleasure Island was a case study in what could happen when Imagineers disregarded some of “Mickey’s Ten Commandments.” In particular, the complex seemed to stumble on Commandment Number One – “Know your audience” – and Commandment Number Two – “Wear your guest’s shoes.” The Commandments were written by Marty Sklar, he later said, “to explain and remind fellow Imagineers about the foundation principles on which our success has been built.”

Takeaways for the church world (part two):

Any number of rationale can be given for Pleasure Island’s eventual demise, and any number of applications can be drawn from what those of us in the church world can learn from the lessons of Disney World. But I’ll narrow the applications down to one: we should be aware of what people want, but be faithful to what people need.

Scripture is full of the want vs. need paradox: Abraham wanted an heir. The wandering Israelites wanted meat. The new nation of Israel wanted a king. Jesus’ detractors wanted Barabbas. People following their wants and whims – or leaders following the wants and whims of the people – almost always leads to a bad place.

Knowing your audience doesn’t mean surrendering to their hearts’ desires.

That’s not to say desires are inherently bad, it’s just to remind us that our hearts are deceitfully wicked. I’ve found that our desires are shadows that point us to something greater. Something better. Something eternal.

Oddly enough, it was Mickey’s Ten Commandments that could’ve kept the Imagineers out of the conundrum of only giving the people what they want. Had they been true to their values, they would have likely avoided Pleasure Island and avoided a lot of the pain along the way.

Since the wheels are coming off of this analogy pretty fast (and the word count on this article is piling up), let me summarize and make my exit: church leaders can’t be guilty of pandering to desires. Should we make people feel loved and cared for? Certainly. Should we help them make a beeline to Jesus? Absolutely. Here’s the problem: the first one doesn’t always feel like the second one is the natural solution. But if we’re to be faithful to our calling, we have to call others up to the glory of the gospel and the life change that Jesus brings.

See all the posts in this series:

photo credit

Start the conversation.

Subscribe

New content, straight to your inbox, twice a week. Easy-peasy.