Many of us have witnessed unusual and even anti-social behaviour at an airport or on a flight. These may range from benign acts such as sleeping on the floor or doing yoga in front of the flight information display system to serious incidents like early morning drunken arguments or even trying to open the aeroplane doors mid-flight.
These more sinister problems appear to have worsened over recent years, with increasing air rage incidents and flight diversions. Such incidents have led to calls to reduce or even ban the sale of alcohol at airports and on planes. RyanAir, for example, has called for a two-drink limit at airport bars to stop drunken incidents on planes.
But what is it about airports that make us behave differently? Let’s take a look at the psychology.
Many holidaymakers feel that the adventure begins at the airport, putting them in a different frame of mind to normal. They are eager to begin their one or two weeks’ of relaxed hedonism with a flourish.
Others, however, are anxious about flying, which may make them act out of character or take refuge in alcohol. The noise and crowds of airports doesn’t help either. As the field of environmental psychology has demonstrated, human beings are very sensitive to our immediate surroundings, and can easily become ‘overloaded’ by stressors such as crowds and noise.
Stress and anxiety produce irritability, both on a temporary and ongoing basis. People who are generally anxious are more prone to anger. And a temporary anxious mood often triggers angry outbursts.
In my view, we also need to look at the airport from a psychogeographic perspective. Psychogeography studies the effect of places on people’s emotions and behaviour, particularly urban environments.
In Celtic cultures, there is a concept of special “thin places” – often sacred groves or forests – where the veil between the material and spiritual world is thin. In thin places, we are between two realms, neither fully in one place nor another.
In the modern technological world, airports can also be seen as thin places. They are liminal zones where boundaries fade. On a literal level, national borders dissolve. Once we pass through security, we enter a no man’s land, between countries. The concept of place becomes hazy.
In a similar way, time becomes a hazy concept at airports. About to step on a plane, we are in a liminal space between two time zones, about to leap forward in time, or even head back into the past.
Some flights across the US – such as Atlanta to Alabama – land earlier than departure time, as they cross time zones. Being able to manage our time gives us a sense of control over our lives. Losing this may be another source of anxiety.
In another sense, airports are a zone of absence, where the present moment is unwelcome. Everyone’s attention turns towards the future, to their flights and the adventures ahead of them when they arrive at their destination. This intense future focus often brings frustration, especially if flights are delayed.
Personal boundaries also become fluid. As well as anti-social behaviour, airports may play host to pro-social behaviour, where strangers share their travel and holiday plans, speaking with unusual intimacy. In no man’s land, normal social inhibitions don’t apply. And alcohol can further lubricate this social cohesion.
Due to the haziness of time and place, airports create a sense of disorientation. We define ourselves in terms of time and place. We know who we are in relation to our daily routines and our familiar environments.
We also define ourselves in terms of nationality. Without such markers, we may feel adrift. Whether caused by psychological or environmental factors, and even if only temporary, disorientation can have detrimental effects.
Liberating effects
On the plus side, all of this may have a liberating effect for some of us. As I point out in my book Time Expansion Experiences, we normally view time as an enemy that steals the moments of our lives and oppresses us with deadlines. So to step outside time sometimes feels like being let out of prison.
The same applies to identity. A sense of identity is important to our psychological health, but can become constricting. Like actors who are stuck playing the same character in a soap opera week after week, we enjoy the security of our roles but long to test and stretch ourselves with new challenges.
So to step outside our normal routines and environments feels invigorating. Ideally, the freedom that begins at the airport continues throughout our foreign adventures.
Ultimately, whether we feel anxious or liberated, we may end up acting out of character.
In line with the theories of psychologist Sigmund Freud, this could be interpreted as a shift from our normal civilised ego to the primitive, instinctive part of the psyche, which Freud called the id.
According to Freud, the id is the site of our desires and drives, our emotion and aggression, and it demands instant gratification. The id is normally held in check by the ego, but is always liable to break through, especially when our inhibitions are loosened by alcohol or drugs.
Outside normal restraints, some holidaymakers allow their id to express itself as soon as they pass through security. And once they become intoxicated, the id is completely dominant, and liable to cause mayhem.
Banning alcohol from airports may sound draconian. But given that there are so many factors that encourage anti-social behaviour, it is difficult to think of any other solution. In a situation when boundaries break down, leading to possible chaos, a legal boundary may be the only hope.
Steve Taylor, Senior Lecturer in Psychology, Leeds Beckett University
This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.
