There are exactly five classes on modern airliners: First, Second, Third, Fourth, and Steerage. “First” sounds too elitist, so airlines often refer to it as “Premier”, which literally means “first” but people who board a plane in sweatpants don’t know that. Second class is invariably called “Business”. Third class usually goes by “Premium Economy”. You’d think fourth class would be “Economy” but it’s something along the lines of “Comfort+” or “EvenMore” or “Extra”. And steerage is usually called “Main Cabin”.
Not all airplanes have all five classes. Domestic flights often only have third, fourth, and steerage for instance; many international flights top out at second class. But every cabin has some subset of those five. When people complain about the experience of flying, it’s usually because they bought a steerage class ticket and are upset that paying $250 does not entitle them to complementary caviar and a bedtime story. When other people complain about the price of flying, it’s usually just after they spent $1,000 for a flight from New York to Chicago because the $150 ticket would have required them to sit in only a normal chair for an entire two hours. When people complain about both the price and the experience, they are morons.
In 1965, a one-way economy ticket from New York to LA was about $145. That’s over $1,500 in today’s money. Economy class at the time was akin to third class today—“premium economy” if you will—and cheaper seats were illegal (before deregulation, the government set prices). Today, the price of a third-class ticket on the same route can vary but $800-$1,200 is a fair range. Second-class with a lie-flat seat—something that mostly didn’t exist in the 1960s—can be easily had for about $1,500.1 And, if you’re willing to trade down to a smaller chair, you can get a one-way ticket for about $350 in steerage.
There is no world in which air travel used to be better. You can have the same experience2 as the 1960s for $500 less, a vastly better experience for the same price, or you can trade off some comfort and save $1,150 (which would get you two round trips for $100 less than the cost of a one-way 1960s ticket).
That’s before we consider that people used to be poorer. The disparity is roughly twice as pronounced when you figure it as a proportion of household income.3 Or, using average4 wage data, we can describe a ticket in terms of how many hours you’d have to work to buy it: That $145 NYC to LA ticket in 1965 would have taken 56 hours; the $1,000 “premium economy” one today would take 30 hours; the $350 no-frills one today (which, again, was illegal in 1965) would take just under 11 hours. If you can work from your laptop, you could pay for half the flight just in the time you spend on it. Exactly how are we being ripped off?
Also, you were something like 40x more likely to die in the 1960s; flying has gotten vastly cheaper while becoming just about the safest way to travel. The government stopped doing something it’s terrible at (deciding how much a flight should cost) and started doing something it’s really good at (safety regulation). So, why do people complain about airlines?!
A combination of two things perhaps. First, flying is so ubiquitous today that people have trouble wrapping their minds around the fact that it was an exclusive commodity in the 1960s. We took a niche luxury mode of travel, made the luxury part more attainable, and made the travel part a mass market item. Instead of declaring victory and moving on, we all like to assume that, had we been around in the 60s, we’d have been traveling alongside Marlene Dietrich and a pointless hereditary monarch5 or two, rather than huffing lead paint or whatever else our parents did in lieu of summer vacations. Second, people know that inflation is a thing, know that $1 in 2026 does not have the same purchasing power as $1 a century ago, but then just ignore this when kvetching about how flying was sexier in Catch Me if You Can. “Time was, you could get a flight to Nepal, a pack ‘a smokes, two martinis, and a hooker all for $14. ‘Course the plane was also a boat, and had to land about three dozen times for fuel, and it shook like a Waring blender. But we didn’t mind. You see back then…”
I will make one concession…
Some airlines do well and truly suck. The odd thing here though is that American airlines—including American Airlines—are some of the better options, despite having reputations for poor service. With US major carriers you quite literally get what you pay for from a menu ranging from mediocre to very good. Notably, the clerks, gate agents, and flight attendants are usually nice, or at least polite. They’ll even smile sometimes. Meanwhile, service on gulf airlines is similar6 and on East Asian ones often much better.
European airlines, in contrast, are the worst. They don’t smile. The terminals have no waiting areas, so you just mill about. The gates aren’t gates at all so much bus bays; you take a bus to the airplane because they hate you. They’re also obnoxious sticklers about luggage, forcing you to open up a suitcase to move 3 grams into your carry-on, as though they’re not both going on the same aircraft—of course, there’s never a convenient place to do this at the counter so it’s a “make a public example of someone for not calibrating the tare weight on his scale correctly” sort of deal. It’s also completely impossible to speak with someone on the phone in the event you need to. More specifically, British Airways is unpleasant from the check-in counter through the flight, as though they’re trying to go out of business. KLM will sell you seat upgrades, not provide them, blame you for the issue, then spend eight months fighting to keep the money you paid for the service they didn’t provide.7 Iberia will tell you they have no record of you even though you somehow got through security with the boarding pass they themselves issued. However, I’m told the food on Air France is… fine.
Essentially, if you have a bad flying experience, I suggest blaming the Dutch.
Americans tried to copy the European business model—i.e., Spirit—but found that the extra dozen dollars required to be treated to more comfort than a palate of air freight was well worth it. We got together, had a vote (using pebbles), and banished all the people involved.
Beyond European airlines making everyone else look bad though, flying is a perfectly fine way to travel thousands of miles in hours. A lot of what people hate about the experience boils down to interacting poorly with others. But, complaints about this often come from people who aren’t all that pleasant themselves. So maybe just don’t be the guy cutting lines,8 or the one trying to get away with a carry-on that’s too big,9 or the prick acting like a crying baby is some kind of imposition.10 “Be polite” is literally a children’s book message, so just do that. And, I’ll try to take my own advice the next time my blood is near boiling.
In checking this for a given day a month in advance I see two flights for $1,299, three for $1,499, two for $1,899, and two over $2,000.
Actually, if you like to watch movies on aeroplanes, your experience is better because you have that option now. I tend to read or look out the window because I once watched Justin Timberlake trying to act during a flight and found the experience traumatizing.
Median real household income (not mean, so inequality isn’t skewing things here) is nearly twice what it was in 1965.
Yes, these are averages. You’ve got me. The median data here are less easy to work with (and I refuse to do any actual work for this piece because we’re having fun… aren’t we?) but do show that the median real wage is rising steadily.
They’re all pointless. Who still uses a prince? Grow up.
Apparently these are unparalleled on the very high end but 1) how the hell would I know? And 2) I’m not going to go all communist here but spending $25,000 on a flight is kind of… shameful?
This assessment is totally objective and definitely not clouded by my personal experience.
The old, “I had no idea boarding group 4 came after boarding group 3” trick.
For instance, this bag is oversized. It does not fit in the carry-on bin without taking up two slots. There are Reddit threads where people note it’s small enough that gate agents don’t notice and, if you have status, you can board early enough to take the extra space. And, sure, you can do that but it’s rude and you’re part of the problem if you do.
Babies cry; it’s sort of their thing. If you get mad at the parents for this (I guess you expect them to be hermits until their kid goes to college?), you’re a jackass.