Writing · 2024/01/11
The Idea of Class
Airplane cabins as a way to think about class, visibility, and upward mobility.
Class is rooted in every system, but some class structures are only significant when viewed from the inside. Take a pretty obvious example: classes on an airplane. It is written out loud for you.
In the beginning, you had first and second class. After a while, “second class” started to sound not so good, so you had economy. After another while, some people in economy got richer and wanted to demonstrate it to others. So you had first, business, and economy.
These classes are not that visible from the ground. Early on, airlines opened only one door when you boarded the plane, and you had to walk past the first- and business-class seats. Now you don’t even get to see the first-class seats.
Every time I walked by, I wanted to sit in those seats. That class difference is obvious to me—the guy in the, let’s say, inferior seat—but not as obvious to those already in the good seats.
This class system, however, is only valid in the air. If someone who has never been on a plane wants to take a seat, will he care whether you are first class or last? If the serfs decide to “redistribute” resources, will they care what rank and status you have in the city?
Going back to the example: once you find your economy seat, you no longer see the first- and business-class sections. The cabin curtain blocks your view. So whatever you feel while walking past the good seats is temporary. Ninety-nine percent of people don’t even attempt to cross that curtain again.
That is how I define upward mobility. If the cost of buying a business-class ticket is lower than the cost of crossing that curtain—taking an empty seat or even snatching a seat from someone already there—then the system is still healthy for me, no matter what class I am in.