Keeping people happy in airports
Or “Why modern travel is so exhausting”
Travel, like so many inherently pleasurable human activities, has deeply rooted behavioral and evolutionary benefits: it allows access to new resources, facilitates the rapid spread of genetic material, and increases the survival rate of individuals from the dangers posed by a sessile existence. However, since modern life for most of us rarely involves the populating of undiscovered territories for purposes of increased reproductive potential and individual survival, those of us in developed countries have been placed in the conundrum of retaining a powerful ancestral desire to travel without a powerful contemporary NEED to travel.
It would logically follow that modern travel born out of desire, as opposed to necessity, would be an inherently more refined and elegant affair than fleeing on foot or horseback before an onslaught of locusts or the encroaching ice of winter.
Yet, as I find myself marooned between flights in New York’s John F. Kennedy International airport, I cannot help but struggle to reconcile my awe of the architectural and technical achievements that allow this place to process such a prolific array of people and complex travel schedules, with the harsh industrial design aesthetic and distinct lack of creature comforts. Perforated with myriad corridors glazed with mind-boggling quantities of steel, glass, tile and concrete, this hive hums with movement , like some type of giant, benign Borg cube.
There seems to be a distinct endorsement of one type of sitting mode: upright, in an uncomfortable steel structure thinly padded with vinyl. Whether it’s the waiting benches at the departure gates, or the chairs in the food courts, the only surface upon which to adopt a less-than classroom-ready position is the floor. A cold, shiny surface, assuming a more supine position on it for any extended period of time proves to be an equally uncomfortable affair.
Apparently, airport chair design is still stuck in the 1960’s. http://www.hermanmiller.com/products/seating/public-seating/eames-tandem-sling-seating.html
And Wikipedia has this to say about airport seating:
“Robert Sommer studied the design of airport seating and concluded that the arrangement of chairs in rigid lines bolted to the floor was deliberately sociofugal — discouraging social interaction such as conversation and encouraging the sitters to go to commercial locations such as shops and cafes.[8] The provision of arms on the chairs increased the usage of the chairs, as compared with bench seats without arms. Strangers are more comfortable sitting adjacent each other if there is an arm to mark their personal space. The parallel orientation of the modular seat units also minimises face-to-face contact and this is less threatening for strangers.[9]”
Granted, there are pockets of civility here and there for individuals willing to pay for access to exclusive airline-maintained lounges. But the majority of this structure is designed with the efficiency of a well-engineered automotive transmission, and the extended-stay comfort of a jail cell. Actually, jail cell may be too much of an exaggeration. At least jail cells have beds.
So I find myself struggling to perform this strange ballet, migrating between different waiting areas that are designed to only remain comfortable as long as one is alertly waiting to embark within the hour. In my eternal search to find something resembling a couch with complementary WiFi, I feel like I am working in some industrial-revolution era textile factory, where the carefully planned production flow allows me to wait only in certain approved places in demonstrably uncomfortable positions for limited periods of time.
I appreciate the rapidity of air travel and am willing to sacrifice comfort for speed while sitting in a cylindrical aluminum tube at 30,000 feet, hurtling over the landscape at a very un-organic velocity. But when I have to sacrifice comfort for the privilege of surviving in a gigantic industrial cave…then I begin to contemplate the wisdom of traveling by horse…or by car. At least then I am in control of how long I wait and where I wait. At least on horseback, I can disembark and wait for my rendezvous on my back on a pile of leaves underneath a tree.
Here, extended supine waiting gets you critical looks from fellow passengers, followed by shuffling janitors who try to sweep all around you while you sleep, followed by the dispatch of a security officer who saw you lying down for several hours without moving on CCTV and assumed you might be dead, dying or homelessly loitering.
Airports exist because of airlines. Airlines exist because people have a desire to travel quickly. People desire to travel quickly in airplanes because they get to spend less time in an uncomfortable position than more traditional methods of conveyance. But when you are faced with the daunting 6 hour layover, the terrifying 12, or the grueling 24, you begin to consider alternatives to staying in the airport. Words like “hotel”, “outside restaurant” or the elusive “public library” with its comfortable newspaper-reading lounge begin to percolate through the sea of diction crowding your subconscious mind.
You begin to weigh the benefits of sleep and comfortably lying down against the fear of outrageous taxi fares, getting lost in a foreign city, or being marooned in an even more uncomfortable place than when you started. Finally, torturously, the hour creeps closer to your departure. Gaunt, haggard from lack of food and the nonstop audio assault of CNN’s “Situation Room”, you stagger for the gate and the waiting paradise of a well-cushioned seat with air-conditioning nozzles and, if you’re lucky, a plastic wall to lean against while you sleep.
Airports are always promoting and selling themselves as fashionable, modern places to hang out, shop, eat and meet interesting people in. They represent the best in architecture and modern travel facilitation that our world has to offer. But if they would really like to have people say “That airport was amazing, I wish I was there longer and spent more money”, then perhaps some investment in the creature comforts necessary to pleasantly wait for more than a handful of hours would not be amiss.
An armada of couches here, a fleet of cushions there, a sprinkling of supine molded-plastic “rest-chairs” with a towel to put over your eyes, or even an array of those Japanese sleep-tubes would be most welcome additions to the sterile operating environs of the modern airport.
As many of us can now conclude, airport terminals are filled with sociofugal areas that not only discourage social interaction, but are also uncomfortable for waiting for long periods of time. Why? Is there some connivance between airport concession owners and airport architects to drive people toward spending money on bad food and trinkets? If so, then the manipulation of human psychology towards the monetization of the airport waiting experience seems to be very successful.
However, I am one consumer who is unhappy with the current airport experience. After my latest aerial odyssey left me with the bitter taste of manipulation by some unseen architectural-psychological entity, I will be making a point to actively avoiding scheduling any flights through JFK. Or New York City. Or really flying anywhere, for any purpose.
