Airline Prisoners

Misery in the rear of the cabin

“I was imprisoned in a jetliner cabin.” That sounds like a tabloid headline, except it’s true for passengers seated in the rear of an airliner. Crammed in and buckled in place, restrained, not unlike criminals in prison, complete with shuttered windows and patrolling guards.

The major difference between prisoners and airline passengers is that prisoners have no choice, whereas passengers pay extravagantly for the experience. If they wish to suffer less, they pay even more, thus perversely rewarding operators of the diabolical system.

How bad is it in rows twenty-five and back? Canned sardines have more room.

Let me say that I don’t have a problem with the Airline Deregulation Act of 1978, even though each airline consequently tried to squeeze—“squeeze” is the operative word here—squeeze as many people into the cabin space as possible without injuring anyone. A full load of passengers helps cover the cost of jet fuel and so on. I get all that.

But there are limits. Restaurants have occupancy limits to ensure everyone can flee in case of a fire. Highways have speed limits to discourage low-flying rocketeers from ramming into grandma’s car. Airlines need humane base lines, too.

The front-to-back space for an airline seat used to be 35 inches of so. After deregulation, the sardines at the back of the plane are asked to make do with as little as 28 inches. Consequently, the knees of people of average height are wedged snugly against the seatback in front. That’s. Too. Tight.

Years ago on a long flight to Europe in a wide-bodied jet, I was sandwiched in the middle of a row of a half dozen seats and feeling very confined even before the person in front of me reclined into my space. I made my way to the aisle and confided to the flight attendant that I didn’t think I could return to my seat in the middle of the sandwich. I was able to swap seats with someone on an aisle.

The incident triggered claustrophobia that bedeviled me for days and, intermittently, for years. I certainly dreaded the flight back to the States. However, when I walked up to check in at a German airport, the person behind the counter regretted to inform me that, because of overbooking, I would be seated elsewhere.

“You are being moved to first-class,” she said, instantly reaffirming my belief in God. In first-class, I couldn’t even reach the back of the seat in front of me!

I have no problem with people paying a luxury price to get a wide seat and wide-open spaces. And I don’t expect similar freedom of movement back in the stowage section. But riders in the cheap seats should not be essentially immobilized. That’s cruel and unusual punishment, which is defined in the Constitution as an inhumane, torturous or disproportionally severe punishment for, in this case, flying economy cross-country to see the family.

Real prisoners get seven-by-10-foot cells. We get 28 inches. C’mon!