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Straightalking

I was on a flight into Heathrow the other day when a minor delay caused me to witness air rage for the first time. We had landed nicely and everything seemed to be happening as it should until we came to a halt a short distance from the terminal building. The seatbelt lights stayed on and we weren't going any further. We were just starting to get restless when the pilot explained that there was a truck parked in our space and they were looking for somebody to move it. Everyone sighed melodramatically and tut-tutted at the ineptitude of it all, but for the most part we passengers remained good-natured and continued reading our newspapers.

All except one that is; after fifteen minutes of sitting there waiting, the man across the aisle from me was viably agitated, called an air hostess hover and proceeded to berate her for about three minutes non-stop. The man was American, in his fifties and smart in appearance. Commanding the attention of those around him, his monologue of complaint went along these lines.

"We're sitting here for fifteen minutes already. You've for to do something about it. You've got to go into that cockpit and tell the pilot- TELL HIM!- to get something done about his delay. I can't sit here like this. Its ridiculous. That pilot's not being aggressive enough. If he wanted to sort this problem out he could. He could get on that radio and shout at someone. He's not aggressive. He's a wimp. Go in and tell him to be aggressive. I've got a connecting flight...." The pleasant air hostess was almost run over by his out-of-control torrent. This articulate man didn't raise his voice or use any swear words, but his manner was offensive. His tone of voice was intimidating and utterly unreasonable. When the air hostess tried to explain that everything was being done, he looked as if he might spew fire. It was an obscene spectacle and those sitting around were horrified. Being perhaps a tad too easily involved in other people's scraps, I said to the man "Hey, take it easy. It's not her fault, you know." He hardly took his bullying gaze off the air hostess for an instant to tell me to mind my own business and immediately resumed his rant.

When he finally finished, the air hostess walked away, obviously shaken and the man stuck his chest out, in a cartoon-like gesture of righteousness and pride. He was oblivious to all the jaws being lifted off the floor around him and the poisonous stares, though they didn't penetrate his conscious mind, I hope they went somewhere into the deep, dark pocket so of his soul. I don't know what kind of personal problems this man has, or personality defects that make him treat others so shoddily, but I'm sure there was no excuse for that scene. If he had used swear words or been physically intimidating, he could have been arrested for air rage. But he's no drunk hooligan. No doubt, he tells himself that his educated, measured manner makes it alright and if he pushes against any wrongs he sees, then surely it's a good thing.

What about the air hostess?

Well, she didn't put up a fight. She clearly knew she was on the wrong side and there was nothing she could say, he might reason.

But surely that's not the point. It doesn't matter how smart and important that man is, or even how right he was, (it was ridiculous for us to be sitting there). Being really smart means knowing when not to push your point home, to be a tiny bit mindful of others and their feelings and ability to argue, maybe. This might mean biting your tongue at times and saying nothing when you want to make a valid complaint, but that's life! Am I mad, or is that not something basic respect for humanity tells us.

The thing about bullies is that they are only dangerous if they think they can get away with it. If someone teaches them a lesson, then they get some idea of how socially unacceptably they're behaving. I clearly wasn't the woman for the job, much and all as I'd like to have told this man a thing or two. I had entered the fray as the voice of reason, and his rudeness had floored me.

I don't suppose bad language is always excusable, but when this man had shown himself to be an arrogant, hurtful bully there was no-more-Mr-Nice-Guy for him and I'm glad. The man sitting behind me, who'd been watching the whole scene disapprovingly, fell into step with me as we left the plane.

"What an idiot."
"There's always one", we sighed.

As we entered the arrivals hall and were passing the angry bully, the man pulled out one of the nuclear weapons of put-downs. "Dickhead", he said, just audible and seemingly to no-one in particular. The bully swung around and a look of awful realisation came over him.

All my professional interests in negotiation and calm reasoning went out the window. Peacemaking isn't always about being polite eggshell walking. Sometimes people need to be told the truth and sometimes you've got to walk away from a situation knowing that it wasn't resolved but at least some painful truths were aired. If muttering obscenities isn't the best way to break through to people, in this case at least it wasn't the worst either.

by

Laura Mackey
13th February 2002

 


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