Sometimes I find myself climbing on board a aircraft and looking at the seating, I can see and then feel the excruciating discomfort of being treated like a relatively insignificant product, my comfort of no real concern for the airline, my quality of travel experience a figment of their marketing department spin.
I cannot help wondering to what level of insignificance do we put ourselves when, like sheep we sit and take it in these cattle pens that transport us in our hundreds across the country.
I wonder why we agree to be so uncomfortable for the profit of their system, why we don’t simply refuse to accept the diabolical conditions of economy and cheap flight. The I sink back into my somnambulistic trance and wait to get there.
Am I really alone?
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