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I have a great deal of empathy for those who have, or are related to someone who has, severe peanut allergies. Clearly, their health is much more important that my desire to snack on peanuts for a few hours, and I doubt many people could debate that.
Having said that, how exactly would such a ban on peanuts be enforced? I was on a Southwest flight not long ago, where a mom demanded that peanuts not be served on her flight with her daughter. The flight attendants complied. Mind you, this was Southwest Airlines, which had the marketing tagline “We Fly For Peanuts” for years. Common sense dictates that if your daughter has a severe peanut allergy, YOU DON’T FLY SOUTHWEST. Even if the crew agrees to suspend peanut service for this flight, the last flight served peanuts. There are discarded peanut bags in the seat back pocket in front of your daughter. Peanut dust is on the seats, in the ventilation, and everywhere else. How will keeping peanuts off of THIS leg of the flight protect you or your child? And even if peanuts are not served on that leg, if there’s still an allergic reaction, how does that affect the airline’s liability, or the liability of other passengers who might have eaten peanuts in the gate area and boarded with peanut dust on their hands?
On the same flight I, and many friends of mine who also travel frequently, each had a bag of nuts in our carry-on. Forget for a moment that it would be impossible (if not unconstitutional) for flight crew to prevent people from eating their own snacks while flying. The mere fact that I had an open bag of nuts in my carry-on – even if I never took it out – could have been enough to trigger this girl’s allergy. The slippery-slope potential here boggles the mind. (You had peanut butter on your bagel for breakfast this morning? Sorry, sir, you can’t board this flight.)
You will never convince peanut allergy sufferers or their families that this should not be controlled, and I can see their point without agreeing with it. Consider this: I am violently allergic to dogs and cats, yet most mass-market airlines now allow pets to be stowed in the passenger compartment. I don’t recall anyone ever asking me if my health would be compromised by allowing pet dander aboard. I don’t protest, because I am responsible for controlling my own allergies, whether that means carrying a dust mask or an epi-pen aboard. If I choose to fly, I alone must be responsible for my own health. As much as allergens might affect me, other people have rights too; and to twist around a well-known saying, “My rights end where your nose begins.”
Travel vouchers are similarly valued at the airlines’ discretion, even when a dollar value is specified. I was recently voluntarily bumped from a US Airways flight, after being promised that the travel voucher was good for flights with any of their codeshare partners. Star Alliance is a big codeshare group, right? Well … contrary to what the gate agent told me, the voucher is only good on US Airways-coded flights; and as I live in the Southwest, there’s a very good chance this voucher will expire worthless. Good for the airlines, not so good for me.
(Why didn’t I refuse the voucher under these conditions? Because the gate agent would not give me the voucher – and let me read the fine print – until the plane had pushed back from the gate.)
I have a great deal of empathy for those who have, or are related to someone who has, severe peanut allergies. Clearly, their health is much more important that my desire to snack on peanuts for a few hours, and I doubt many people could debate that.
Having said that, how exactly would such a ban on peanuts be enforced? I was on a Southwest flight not long ago, where a mom demanded that peanuts not be served on her flight with her daughter. The flight attendants complied. Mind you, this was Southwest Airlines, which had the marketing tagline “We Fly For Peanuts” for years. Common sense dictates that if your daughter has a severe peanut allergy, YOU DON’T FLY SOUTHWEST. Even if the crew agrees to suspend peanut service for this flight, the last flight served peanuts. There are discarded peanut bags in the seat back pocket in front of your daughter. Peanut dust is on the seats, in the ventilation, and everywhere else. How will keeping peanuts off of THIS leg of the flight protect you or your child? And even if peanuts are not served on that leg, if there’s still an allergic reaction, how does that affect the airline’s liability, or the liability of other passengers who might have eaten peanuts in the gate area and boarded with peanut dust on their hands?
On the same flight I, and many friends of mine who also travel frequently, each had a bag of nuts in our carry-on. Forget for a moment that it would be impossible (if not unconstitutional) for flight crew to prevent people from eating their own snacks while flying. The mere fact that I had an open bag of nuts in my carry-on – even if I never took it out – could have been enough to trigger this girl’s allergy. The slippery-slope potential here boggles the mind. (You had peanut butter on your bagel for breakfast this morning? Sorry, sir, you can’t board this flight.)
You will never convince peanut allergy sufferers or their families that this should not be controlled, and I can see their point without agreeing with it. Consider this: I am violently allergic to dogs and cats, yet most mass-market airlines now allow pets to be stowed in the passenger compartment. I don’t recall anyone ever asking me if my health would be compromised by allowing pet dander aboard. I don’t protest, because I am responsible for controlling my own allergies, whether that means carrying a dust mask or an epi-pen aboard. If I choose to fly, I alone must be responsible for my own health. As much as allergens might affect me, other people have rights too; and to twist around a well-known saying, “My rights end where your nose begins.”
Travel vouchers are similarly valued at the airlines’ discretion, even when a dollar value is specified. I was recently voluntarily bumped from a US Airways flight, after being promised that the travel voucher was good for flights with any of their codeshare partners. Star Alliance is a big codeshare group, right? Well … contrary to what the gate agent told me, the voucher is only good on US Airways-coded flights; and as I live in the Southwest, there’s a very good chance this voucher will expire worthless. Good for the airlines, not so good for me.
(Why didn’t I refuse the voucher under these conditions? Because the gate agent would not give me the voucher – and let me read the fine print – until the plane had pushed back from the gate.)