As US midterm elections rapidly approach, we’ve been hearing a lot about the “realities of the post-9/11 world.” As frequent international travelers know, some of those realities include long, tedious lines at airports, redundant security checks and increased stress among airport terminal personnel. All of these things make flying a little less pleasant for passengers. Perhaps as a result, passengers have changed too.

I recently had a chance to fly with a regular business class passenger who was more than a little upset than a little upset by the prospect of having to fly coach. For whatever reason he took me into his confidences. I was surprised to learn that it wasn’t just the uncomfortable seats, cheap food, and smelly wash rooms that put him off — it was also the passengers. He disdained having to sit with “these people.” He was clearly a better person than everyone else in coach. I chalked it up as a one-off experience and haven’t thought much about it until I read a recent article by Sophia Banay called “Class Conscious” in Forbes Magazine. In it Sophia explains in no uncertain terms why some first class passengers do disdain their “cattle class” compatriots. She brought to my attention that there is indeed more than a service divide between the two classes. The gist of the article is that new “all-business-class” carriers aren’t good enough because they don’t give elite passengers the opportunity to be differentiated from the coach-class passengers. Here are a few excerpts:

Let’s be honest. Part of the point of premium travel is that you are a step up from your fellow passengers. Sure, you’re eating airplane food, but you’re eating several restaurant-quality courses served with china and silver on a linen tablecloth, while everyone else is struggling with their sporks. And yes, you may be sleeping in a glorified chair, but at least your seat reclines and your footrest extends so your body is horizontal. At the gate, while other customers swill vending-machine Coke and sit on polyester chairs, you sip Champagne in the airport lounge. Best of all, you board and disembark well before your coach-class counterparts.

And elsewhere:

Eos takes a snobbier approach. The company likens its product to a corporate jet, and the motto is: “First class service. Business class prices.” The planes are 757s and configured with only 48 seats, called “suites,” each totaling 21 square feet, with 78-inch-long lie-flat beds. Amenities include cashmere blankets (to MAXjets’ fleece), electrical outlets in each suite (a feature MAXjet doesn’t have but says is coming), and an on-demand entertainment player similar to MAXjet’s. There are six flight attendants on each Eos flight–a typical business class service ratio–and round-trip tickets start at $2,950.

Sounds good so far. [My emphasis] But an example from a recent MAXjet flight illustrates the problem. Over an hour into the flight, we’d heard the safety instructions and stretched back in our seats, taken advantage of the leg room and received our digEplayers. But we hadn’t eaten dinner. The harried flight attendant pushing the drinks cart promised it was on the way, but we were starving–and beginning to feel like undifferentiated passengers traveling the airline’s standard class. Then it occurred to us … we were. [The horror!]

She ends her article with:

We’re just not sure we want to fly it [all-business-class airlines]–unless, that is, they decide to add coach.

Now, I’ve never paid full price for a business class ticket. As a frequent flier, I either use air miles or finagle discounts to get those seats. As such I’ve apparently misunderstood the real perk of flying first class — being better than the people in coach, of course. Ms. Banay has opened my eyes to a brave new world of post-9/11 air travel reality. Passengers not only expect to be able to buy their way through security lines, but they expect to be treated like better people as well.

On another flight, I had the opportunity to visit with an Army Sergent recently home from abroad. We talked for a bit about the heavy backpack over his shoulders and how he had managed to get similar bags for all the men under his command. As a avid hiker I wanted one just like it. We talked about his boots and where they’d been. We talked about coming home after too long away. He was probably the happiest person in coach that day, and I feel honored to have had the chance to visit with him. I can’t help but now think that first class should be reserved for the service men and women who risk their lives to try and protect us from the post-9/11 realities that many of us have already adapted to.