Happily for me, my environment-destroying 1K status is long since lapsed.) But Stansted (and Cork Airport, and Gatwick), if I want celebrity-endorsed scent, I’ll walk into the shop that sells it and spritz some on for free all by myself. (I wrote about this years ago on CT the main thing I wanted from a major transit hub is a shower and a clean pair of knickers. They are parried and drained at every step, softened up by shouting security people and aggressively mis-sold crap they neither want nor need. This is why once you stagger out of security with your shoes half-tied and your still belt in your hand, you have to run the gauntlet of a curving shopping mall hard-selling perfume, booze, sweets and cigarettes.Īirport passengers don’t move smoothly and efficiently through an environment designed to get them where they are going. What you want to do, if you run Stansted Airport, is extract every further penny you can from them. If you delay them, they will spend money, topping up those useless five euro vouchers only good for MacDonalds.
They are not even freight that needs efficient through-put. Passengers in Stansted are not people who have paid for a service (except of course they have paid for it, but in a disintermediated way that means the service provider doesn’t give a stuff about them). Well, I’ve been in Brize Norton and it’s a lot nicer and better run than Stansted. It is said the RAF calls soldiers ‘self-loading freight’. If you are a passenger in Stansted Airport, you are most definitely the product. (Before anyone starts, I use DuckDuckGo for search, subscribe to an actual hard copy newspaper as an alternative business model to PPC advertising, and have been on Ello for two years, making it just under two years since I’ve interacted with anyone on Ello.)īy now we all know the saying, ‘if you’re not the customer, you’re the product’. Any social media, search or advertising platform as long as it’s Google or Facebook. Where was all the market choice and innovation to translate my myriad human desires into a competitive range of options for me to choose from and pay for? Then it turned out that Ryanair would only leave from Stansted, which I dislike, so I had to satisfice like some too-lazy-to-compare consumer or a half-arsed social democrat. So already, I felt a bit let down by capitalism. The only way to get there from London was with Ryanair.
I wanted to go to Girona, a city in Catalunya, to spend a few days with a group of women brought together by an old army-wife friend to do running, cycling and general fitness. Facebook/Google/WhatsApp are bad for consumers in just the same way Stansted is. This morning, as I stood in a District/Circle line caterpillar train– the ones whose lack of carriage dividers always makes me guesstimate the unimpeded range of a bomb blast (I’m cheerful, that way) – it came to me.
Last night, already three hours delayed by that corporate gaslighter Ryanair, I was shuffling through the endemically slow passport queue at Stansted, soon to brave even further delayed luggage, and wondering why an airport that has just had millions spent on it is so utterly crap.
At lunchtime, I was talking about Roger Taylor’s new book on open data, public policy and how to grab back some little part of our human agency from the maw of big data.