August 30, 2023

EARLIER THIS MONTH month I was in Berlin, boarding a plane at the new Berlin-Brandenburg Airport. Walking through the lobbies and concourses, something felt different. I couldn’t quite place it. The airport, only three years-old is spacious, clean, and well laid out. But it was more than that. It was something else.

Then it hit me. It was quiet! From the time we walked through the front doors, until the moment we arrived at the gate, not a single public address announcement played. Not one. The speakers were silent.

Every airport in the world should follow this model. Indeed, some are quieter than others, to varying degrees. Copenhagen and Amsterdam, for example, keep announcements to a minimum. But on the whole, airports are some of the noisiest public spaces we have, and the loudspeaker is mainly to blame.

Sure, terminals are packed with wailing babies, chattering TVs, and airport architecture seemingly designed to amplify, rather than quash, the collective racket of hundreds of people. But it’s those public address announcements that are the most aggravating culprit. Ninety percent of them are useless in the first place, and they’re often delivered at a volume severe enough to shatter windows. And with all the various microphones and speakers targeting different sections of a terminal, it’s not uncommon to hear two or three announcements blaring at the same time.

The result of this, whether you sense it directly or not, is stress. And if there’s one thing the air travel experience needs less of, it’s stress.

The needlessness and redundancy of most announcements would be hilarious if it weren’t so annoying. And those few of any value are presented in such a tautological tangle as to be almost incomprehensible. Why say in ten words what you can say in a hundred?

At JFK, for instance, there’s an announcement that loops around every five minutes or so. It declares: “All areas of the terminal have been designated as smoke-free.” I’ll begin by asking if there’s anyone alive who’d be daft enough to assume they’re permitted to smoke in a terminal. But listen, also, to the language. JFK is the ultimate melting pot, and I have a healthy suspicion that, to someone with limited English skills, a phrase like “designated as smoke-free” has about as much meaning as a bird call.

Then we have the security announcements. Did you know that my hometown airport, Boston-Logan, is home to a program called “SAFE,” or “Security Awareness For Everyone”? I know this because I’m told about it over and over again while sitting at the gate. “If you see something, say something.” Important advice there.

We also have the one that goes, “If a stranger approaches you about carrying a foreign object…” A what? I picture a toaster with wires coming out of it. “Would you mind taking this to Frankfurt for me?”

Meanwhile, “TSA has limited the items that may be carried through the security checkpoint,” we’re told at Los Angeles International. “Passengers are advised to contact their air carrier.” The pointlessness of this counsel deserves no elaboration. Of the millions of travelers who’ve been subjected to this recording, I suspect the total number who’ve moved to action and “contacted their air carrier,” stands exactly at zero. To further fray our nerves and damage our hearing, it plays after you’ve gone through security.

As does the one that goes, “Los Angeles International Airport is closed the general public, and only employees, ticketed passengers, and those directly assisting passengers qre allowed on the airport property” (I’m paraphrasing slightly). There is no need for this one, period, but the fact that it’s broadcast after passengers have been screened and cleared by TSA is surreally idiotic.

Indeed, the overseers of LAX have created what might be the noisiest airport in America. Among the racket is an absurd series of PAs that play outside, on the sidewalks, where the concrete overpasses increase the decibel level exponentially. Anyone waiting for a hotel shuttle or the rental car bus is subject to a mind-melting cacophony of unintelligible blather.

And although Americans have a deep cultural affinity for infantilization and condescension — as if every citizen is too stupid to get on an airplane, or to even ride an escalator, without a loudly barked set of instructions — we aren’t the only offenders. If you’ve ever been to the domestic terminal in Medellin, Colombia, or to Mexico City’s terminal 2, you’ll know what I mean. Bring a good pair of headphones.

Ironically, the actual loudest things at an airport — airplanes themselves — are almost never heard, buffered behind walls of glass and concrete. And it’s not until stepping aboard your plane that you can finally savor some silence.

Or that’s the idea, anyway. Alas, the airplane cabin has contracted this same scourge. Nowadays, the entire boarding process, followed by the first several minutes after takeoff, consist of nothing but announcements: safety videos that never end, ignored directives on how to stow your luggage, and those manifesto-length promotional speeches. On a flight recently I counted thirteen separate PAs during the boarding process alone, from either the gate agent or a cabin attendant.

Here’s the thing: nobody is paying attention. All these PAs do is create noise and leave people frazzled.

On one airline, a pre-recorded briefing plays during descent, telling people to buckle up, stow their tables, shut their laptops and such. The recording ends, and a second later a flight attendant comes on and repeats the entire thing.

Bad enough, but winner of the redundancy award are those announcements letting us know that “Flight attendants will now be coming through the aisles to [insert task here].” Seriously, we don’t need a heads-up on what you’re about to do any more than we need to know what color underwear you’re wearing. Simply do it.

All of this sonic pollution does not make passengers more attentive, more satisfied, or keep them better informed. What it does is make an already nerve-wracking experience that much more uncomfortable.

Berlin we turn our weary ears to you.

 

Upper photo courtesy of Unsplash.

Related Stories:

HOW TO SPEAK AIRLINE. A GLOSSARY FOR TRAVELERS.
FAREWELL TO CNN AIRPORT NEWS

Our airports are terrible, and our airlines are finding it harder to compete. We’ve done it to ourselves through flyer-unfriendly policies.

January 24, 2018

FORGIVE ME for repeating myself. In earlier posts, as well as in my book, I’ve emphasized the myriad ways in which U.S. airports pale in comparison to those overseas. I hate driving a topic into the ground, but my experiences over the past few days force me to revisit this:

The other day, traveling on vacation, I flew from Singapore to Amsterdam, with a connection in Hong Kong. The connection process in HKG went like this: I stepped off the first plane into a quiet, spacious, immaculately clean concourse. After a quick and polite security screening that took all of sixty seconds, I proceeded to my departure gate a few minutes away.

That’s it.

Compare this, if you dare, to the process of making an international connection in the United States of America. Imagine you’re a foreign traveler arriving in the U.S. from Europe or Asia, with an onward connection either domestically or to a third country:

You step off the plane and make your way to the immigration hall, which as always is packed to capacity. After standing in line for upwards of an hour, you’re photographed and fingerprinted before finally being released into baggage claim and the customs hall. Or maybe it takes even longer: after docking at the gate, airline station personnel inform you that due to extremely long lines at immigration, all passengers are asked to remain aboard for the time being.

Not to mention, if you’re coming from a country that’s not on the U.S. visa waiver list, you’ll need to have obtained a visa in advance just to begin this process, even you’re only passing through.

Your next task is to stand at the baggage carousel for twenty minutes and wait for your suitcase. American airports do not recognize the “in transit” concept, meaning that all passengers arriving from overseas, even those in-transit to a third country, are forced to claim and re-check their luggage. Once you’ve got your bag, another line awaits at the customs checkpoint, followed by yet another line at the luggage re-check counter.

Finally you’re released into the terminal. Of course, this building is used for “international arrivals only” — another of those peculiarly American airport concepts — and your connecting flight is leaving from a totally different terminal on the other side of the airport. To get there, you walk outside and spend fifteen minutes in the rain waiting for a bus.

And we haven’t gotten to the worst part yet: once you’ve reached the correct terminal, it’s time for security screening. The line at TSA is a good forty minutes long, the guards barking at people amidst the clatter of bins and luggage.

At long last you’re in the departure concourse, which is undersized, overcrowded, and, in the distinct fashion of too many American airports, louder than a football stadium. Babies are crying, CNN news monitors are blaring, and waves of public address announcements — most of them pointless and half of them unintelligible — wash over one another.

How long did all of that take? A solid two hours on some days. Welcome to the American airport.

Even if you’re not making a connection, the arrival process alone often takes over an hour. Back at Hong Kong, a passenger can be off the plane, through immigration and onto the train to Kowloon in fifteen minutes. I remember my last trip to Bangkok, and how I, an arriving foreigner, made it from the airplane to the taxi stand in less than ten minutes. BKK is one of the biggest and busiest international airports in the world, yet the waiting times at immigration can often be measured in seconds, never mind minutes.

Two years ago in a CNN poll of 1,200 overseas business travelers who’ve visited the United States, twenty percent said they would not visit the country again due to onerous entry procedures at airports, including long processing lines. Forty-three percent said they would discourage others from visiting. Separately, in a copy of Air Line Pilot magazine, U.S. Chamber of Commerce counsel Carol Hallett stated that “the United States risks falling behind Asia, the Middle East, and Europe as the global aviation leader.”

I’d say that battle was lost a long time ago.

To be fair, the scenario above is a worst-case to best-case comparison. Most overseas airports require a secondary security check for third-country connections, and there can be a secondary immigration checkpoint as well. Terminal transfers aren’t unheard of, and even some European airports go out of their way to make the travel experience tedious and confusing (CDG we’re talking to you). However, if we’re going to compare the typical connection experience in the U.S. versus the typical connection experience in Europe or Asia, the latter wins almost every time.

The crossroads of global air commerce today are places like Dubai, Istanbul, Seoul and Singapore. These are the places — not New York or Chicago or Los Angeles — that are setting the standards. They’ve got the best airports, the fastest-growing airlines, and the most convenience for travelers.

Some of their success is owed to simple geography. Dubai, for instance, is perfectly placed between the planet’s biggest population centers. It’s the ideal transfer hub for the millions of people moving between Asia and Europe; Asia and Africa; North America and the Near East.  The government of the U.A.E. saw this opportunity years ago, and began to invest accordingly. Today, Dubai airport is one of the busiest, and its airline, Emirates, is now the largest in the world if you exclude the U.S. domestic market.

Not far from Dubai, Istanbul’s new airport is poised to become a similar mega-hub. Its hometown carrier, Turkish Airlines, flies to more countries than any other airline.

There’s not much we can do about geography. At the same time, there’s no excuse for the American aviation sector to have fallen so far. We’ve done it to ourselves, of course, through shortsightedness, underfunding, and flyer-unfriendly policies. The Federal government seems to treat air travel as a nuisance, something to be dissuaded, rather than a vital contributor of tens of billions of dollars to the annual economy. As a result our airports are substandard across a number of fronts, both procedurally and infrastructurally; our terminals are dirty and overcrowded; our air traffic control system is underfunded; Customs and Border Protection facilities are understaffed; passengers are groped and hassled to the point where, if that CNN poll is to be believed, millions of them will refuse to visit the country.

And although our physical location may not be ideal as a transfer point, there are still plenty of travelers moving between continents who can and should be connecting at U.S. airports aboard U.S. carriers — if only we weren’t driving them away.

Traveling between Australia and Europe, for example, or between Asia and South America, the U.S. makes — or should make — a logical transfer point. Hell, we don’t even try, beginning with the fact that our airports don’t allow for transit passengers.

Flying from Australia to Europe, to pick another example, a traveler has two options. He or she can fly westbound, via Asia (through Singapore, Bangkok, Kuala Lumpur or Hong Kong) or the Middle East (Dubai, Qatar, Abu Dhabi, etc.), or eastbound via the U.S. West Coast (Los Angeles or San Francisco). Even though the flying times are about the same, almost everybody will opt for the westbound option. Changing planes at LAX on the other hand, passengers have to stand in at least three different lines, be photographed and fingerprinted, collect and re-check their bags, and endure the full TSA rigmarole before slogging through a noisy terminal to the departure gate.

It’s a similar story traveling between Asia and South America. Europe to Latin America, ditto. Few passengers on these routes will choose to connect in the United States because we’ve made it so damn inconvenient. We can only guess at how many millions of passengers our carriers lose out on each year.

Insult to injury, airline tickets in America are taxed to the hilt. Overall, flying is a lot more affordable than it has been in decades past, but if it feels expensive, one of the reasons is the multitude of government-imposed taxes and fees. There’s an excise tax, the 9/11 Security Fee, the Federal Segment Fee, the Passenger Facility Charges, International Arrival and Departure Taxes, Immigration and Customs user fees, an Animal and Plant Health Inspection Service charge, and so on — a whopping 17 total fees! Airline tickets are taxed at a higher federal rate than alcohol and tobacco.

Finally, you should know that the government-run Export-Import (Ex-Im) Bank of the United States provides billions of dollars in below-market financing each year to carriers overseas, helping deliver hundreds of American-built aircraft at rates not available to our own airlines. This is one of the reasons Persian Gulf carriers such as Emirates and Qatar Airways have been able to expand so rapidly. U.S. taxpayers are in fact subsidizing the growth of carriers that compete directly with our own. Ex-Im’s assistance is helpful to Boeing, but it gives foreign carriers a competitive advantage.

 

Related story: WHAT’S THE MATTER WITH AIRPORTS?