Article & Journal Resources

By Elliott Hester

“Why is it, I often wonder, that U.S. carriers have far and away the worst — most surly, inattentive and often snooty — service in the world?” The question, recently posted on this blog by Pico Iyer, begs to be answered by the accused.

During my 20-year career as a flight attendant for a major U.S. airline, I’ve worked perhaps 5,000 domestic and international flights. In addition to these, I’ve flown hundreds of times as a “non-revenue” passenger, hundreds more as a “full-fare.” From my perspective as both customer and employee, I haven’t seen it all but I’ve seen a lot. Airplane brawls, emergency landings, ailing passengers, terrorist threats, in-flight robberies and, yes, a few surly, inattentive and snooty airline employees. (If passengers gasp at the sight of a truculent flight attendant, imagine what it’s like to work with one.)

The truth is … drum roll please … most flight attendants are pleasant and hard-working people. Perhaps we don’t always smile as much as some passengers would like. Perhaps we don’t make you feel as special as the TV commercials promised. Maybe you don’t like the way we look (many of us are beyond middle-age and not as physically attractive as passengers want us to be). But more often than not, we treat you fairly, if not courteously.

Flight attendants spend a lot of time with passengers. Unlike management personnel tucked away at airline headquarters, customer service agents on the other side of the ticket counter and pilots who remain locked behind the cockpit door for the duration of a flight, no physical barriers exist between flight attendants and the passengers we serve. We’re in it together, attendant and attendee — hurtling through space in a narrow metal tube — for up to 14 hours at a time.

For all intents and purposes, flight attendants are the face of the airline. When frustration reaches the boiling point, when missed connections and diminished services and late departures send passengers flying into a frenzy, the face of the airline gets slapped.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been blamed for the level of service my airline allows me to provide. You would not believe how often I’m belittled for not being able to magically produce a pillow. I’ve been screamed at after making simple requests, like asking a passenger to fasten his seat belt or turn off her cellular phone. I’ve been rebuked time and time again because flights at my airline are “always late,” because luggage “never” makes a connecting flight, because the seats I personally designed and constructed are too small.

Needless to say, my skin has thickened over the years. Not as thick, apparently, as the “large, angry and tired militant” senior U.S. flight attendants working Mr. Iyer’s flights to Japan. I’m not disputing claims of inattentive treatment by my airborne colleagues. Perhaps, after 30 or more years of flying (30 or more years of passenger complaints) they’ve grown tired and jaded. But to compare service on Asian carriers (Cathay Pacific, Singapore, Thai) to American carriers … well, this is a comparison of cultures.

The last time I flew Singapore Airlines, the flight attendants, all of whom were stunningly beautiful narrow-waisted young women, all but bowed as passengers walked onto the plane. In business class, the attendants got down on their knees to give passengers complimentary foot massages.

When the captain’s voice squawks over the P.A. system, announcing an Air Traffic Control delay, Japanese passengers don’t groan audibly and punch their fight attendant call buttons.

Not so long ago, while I was working a flight from J.F.K. to Barbados, an American passenger complained throughout the flight. He complained about the food, although no one else did. He complained about the service, although other passengers seemed satisfied. While a planeload of passengers appeared to be content, this particular passenger complained that flight attendants weren’t paying attention to his needs. We tried our best to make him comfortable. When the ranting finally stopped, when his voice lowered to a whisper, he reached out to shake my hand. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m not used to this. I’ve been living in Asia for years.”