Flying While Parenting

The reactions people have to my baby daughter when I bring her out in public is one of the hidden joys of parenting. My daughter, more than her father, is a people person. Wherever I bring her - church, supermarket, work functions - she hands out smiles, and when I'm carrying her, I get to experience what it's like to have charisma. This is true anywhere, anywhere except the airport.

She's over a year old now, and I've flown with her several times. Whenever someone sees me sitting in front of their gate, bouncing a cackling little girl on my knee, they give me a look that mixes pure dread with a scowl of indignant injustice. You'd think I had just published their TSA body scan on my Facebook page. I see the visions flash before their eyes: a crying, screaming, kicking, food-throwing child, next to me, when all I wanted to do was go to my company's convention in Orlando in peace. I deserve so much better, they think.

Thus, I was not surprised when Gulliver, the Economist's travel blog noted that 74% of businessmen polled considered children the most annoying thing about business-class travel. The writer explores childless sections in airplanes, but rightly concludes:

"But while all travellers would agree with the appeal of a quiet flight, it's a big step to ban certain passengers from certain parts of a plane. I'd rather sit next to a well-behaved five-year-old than an adult with bad body odour, but I don't think smelly people should be herded to the back of the plane. Easier, I think, for airlines to continue to treat everyone equally, and do everything in their power to ensure that passengers throughout the plane are given all the help they need to rest."

The writer also reflects on a late 90s Economist leader by a less-gracious colleague:

"For children, just like cigarettes or mobile phones, clearly impose a negative externality on people who are near them. Anybody who has suffered a 12-hour flight with a bawling baby in the row immediately ahead or a bored youngster viciously kicking their seat from behind, will grasp this as quickly as they would love to grasp the youngster’s neck. Here is a clear case of market failure: parents do not bear the full costs (indeed young babies travel free), so they are too ready to take their noisy brats with them."

I suspect the writer has never flown with her own children (a six-year-old's delicious rebuttal is published on the original post). Whatever cost there is to a child on the plane, the parents bear them in spades. If you hear a bawling baby on a plane, keep in mind that he is rows away from you, underneath the nose of a sleep-deprived parent whose book is in pieces on the floor who likely is not enjoying the in-flight movie. If there's a bored youngster viciously kicking your seat from behind, remember that the kid's mom feels his sneakers on his skin, probably after an unsuccessful attempt to have him eat an inflight meal.

And while we are on the subject of negative externalities, the original blogger is right to mention that children are not the only flying annoyances. So perhaps there should be a charge for body odor or for too much perfume. Heck, whenever someone in front of me leans their seat back, he's unloading a built-in negative externality on my knees (it makes me want to viciously kick the seat). Or, why not an extra tax on crotchety business travelers who sneer in distain at innocent little girls, sitting in their papa's lap on the way to grandma's house? It would sure make my flight more pleasant.

When we arrive at our destination, my daughter and I are greeted with happy, relieved fellow travelers. "She was so good!" they explain, nearly in tears. Yes, she was good, for the most part. But she cried when her ears popped, she talked, babbled and sang. The cojourners don't notice because planes are loud and crying is temporary. It all gets lost in the dull roar of an airline engine. And for the 75% haters from the poll: if you can afford business class, you can afford a good set of noise-resistant headphones. Slip them over your head, order yourself a cocktail, and reflect on the fact that you can zip around the world at speeds your grandpa couldn't dream of. Yes, travel can be a nuisance, from security pat-downs to the quirks of the guy sitting next to you. But don't take it out on the kids.