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SQUEEZE PLAY

 

Safety maybe, but not comfort

 

March 25, 2010

 

SQUEEZE PLAY:  Safety maybe, but not comfort

 

I read an article yesterday about what the author called “a little-noticed but worsening problem for the airlines: squeezing passengers into those small seats.” According to newspaper accounts, while airlines pack passengers ever more tightly into economy seats, passenger, shall we call it “heft,” has risen almost proportionately. Well, I recently flew back from Europe and the seat space was so miniscule, and so cramped, that even one of those under 5’, 98 lb soaking wet, Olsen twins could not have found comfort.

I have no argument with airlines charging overweight passengers, who want or need an additional seat, for that seat.  I do not expect carriers in this economic climate, or any other for that matter, to provide extra seats for free.  (It’s never free, we travellers will pay, one way or another).

A different issue


But big passengers are not the issue here.  Impossibly cramped space is.  

I was due to return from London, when the BA strike necessitated flying to another (let's leave it unnamed) European city and connecting on their national carrier back to Toronto.  

Because it was a last minute booking and the flight was completely full – my travelling companion and I had the misfortune to be crammed into the centre seats (E and F) in the centre section of economy on what I am convinced was one of the original Boeing 747s with about 27 rows of seats added to the recommended maximum capacity.

I’m not a business or first class snob.  I frequently (more frequently than I prefer), fly economy - to the US, the Caribbean, and ‘across the pond.’  I have flown for years, and continue to fly, on charter carriers.  They're not Emirates A380s (more’s the pity), but almost without exception, I have no complaints.

This was an experience of a totally different level of discomfort.

How tight was it?

Tight doesn’t begin to describe it. It’s not that our rears were spilling over the seats, they were not, but we were rubbing arms and shoulders and the pitch was possibly in single digits. I know you will think that an exaggeration – but, if it is, it’s very slight.  

I had intended to work while on the flight, but the space available meant my computer could not open more than about 60 degrees so being unable to see the screen put an end to that plan, and left me fretting about deadlines for seven and a half hours.

Just to make matters that tad more uncomfortable, there was a wide metal thingy taking up half the space under the seat in front of me, which meant my left leg could just squeeze under the seat, but the right leg had to usurp some of my neighbour’s  valuable legroom.  

He was very gracious, particularly as I had told him to turn off his cell phone when the plane began taxiing out. (Perhaps he didn’t hear the announcements.)

The meal pretty well illustrates the problem.  

The dish in which the main course was served was about two and a half inches wide and almost the length of the tray.  The meat and rice were at opposite ends meeting in the middle.  To actually get the food from the dish to our mouths, we had to lift the dishes under our chins and fork in the food in from there.  All attempts to navigate from the dish on the tray table to one’s mouth were impossible because your arms were virtually crazy-glued to your sides.

In the seat behind me, kicking, pushing and pulling my seat back for the duration of the flight, was a small, skinny child of about three, equally cramped and as unhappy as the rest of us in our centre section purgatory.  Naturally, as we began our descent into Toronto, he fell into a deep slumber (undoubtedly exhaustion) and had to be carried off the aircraft by his father.

But, why?

I had time on the flight, after watching Sandra Bullock’s award winning performance in The Blind Side, to contemplate why on earth airlines would force their passengers to endure such appalling discomfort.

The answer, I think, is pretty obvious, Eureka! It’s money, honey!

One Trans-Atlantic flight shoe-horned into an economy centre seat on a packed-to-capacity airplane, will have travellers looking for the premium-economy/economy-comfort/advantage- economy/pre-selected seats/coach-premium - whatever  the going euphemism is for what should be a regular economy seat. Perhaps said passenger will even move up to business class.

So, as the premium-economy section grows, will the regular cattle-car-economy section shrink and eventually disappear?

Will that eventuality see premium seat space slowly and almost imperceptibly get smaller and more cramped?  

Will the airline suits tell us of the shrinking space (no lessening of price), “It’s for the passengers. More are travelling, we need more capacity.”

What then?


Simple.  A new level of seating hyphenation: perhaps premium-economy-plus or coach-advantage-benefits, and of course, a new round of upgrade fees.

Clever.

 

 

 

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