A Few Thoughts About Being Elite

I travel a great deal, almost exclusively for business. Anyone who travels a lot knows about, and probably participates in frequent flyer or guest programs. As a result of my very frequent travels, I have achieved "elite" status in more than one of these programs. Even if you do not travel much, you have probably seen these folks. They (like I) stand around the airport gate, hoping for upgrades, or seeking to board the plane before everyone else (except for first class passengers). They (like I) move to the "special" line at the hotel reserved for elite frequent guests. One of my particular favorites is Continental's OnePass program. For OnePass, if one flies 75,000 "eligible" miles in a calendar year, one can obtain the highest level of status--Platinum elite. It's actually possible to fly less than 75,000 miles and achieve Platinum status, or fly more than 75,000 miles and not achieve it.

Confused? So is everyone else. There's a nearly impenetrable set of conditions for different fare classes, partner airline rules, phases of the moon, and religious rituals that govern these rules. Frequent customers (like I) will do all sorts of strange things to navigate this maze, and some people (so far, not like I) will even fly well out of their way or take unnecessary trips in order to achieve OnePass Elite status. What does one gain for becoming Platinum elite? Well, I'm not even sure of the full range of benefits, but the one that I care about the most is a greater probability for upgrades to first class. There have been so many occasions I've watched jealously as Platinum elite members get upgraded, while Gold Elite members like me have to take solace in knowing that while we're in Economy, at least we get to board before other Economy passengers, sit in the front rows of the plane, and make sure that we get our luggage into the overheard compartment. I thought I would reach the magical 75,000 eligible miles following my current trip to Scotland, but it seems that this may not happen for reasons that were beyond my control. Upon realizing this, I became annoyed, even agitated and frustrated. I resolved to call Continental upon my return to the US using, of course, the dedicated phone number for Gold Elite members.

While on this trip, I watched a BBC news story about two young brothers in Congo who used to work in the copper mines. They used to work several hours a day, sometimes in sweltering heat, in crowded conditions with other children. Through the generosity of BBC viewers, these brothers are now able to attend school instead of working in the mines. One of them has made many friends and dreams of becoming a pilot. The other one smiled sheepishly at one point while describing his desire to learn "everything."

Today, I went to visit the Royal Yacht Britannia, which was decommissioned in 1997. It now sits in Leith harbor as a museum, showcasing the Royal lifestyle. I was struck by the immense attention to detail and pageantry to the point of becoming seemingly absurd. Is it really necessary to polish the Royal silverware everyday and make sure that the settings are precisely measured by a ruler? The trappings of the elite. I walked through the yacht feeling morally superior, knowing that I would never dwell on such superficial matters--that I know what's really important in life.

As I was leaving the yacht, I remembered those brothers in Congo. And then it occurred to me. The elite relativism. How would they react to my obsession with Platinum elite status? Would it seem as absurd to them that I measure airline miles as it seemed to me to measure distances between silverware? I live a more sustainable life than the monarchy of the UK. But I also realize that there's no monopoly on the desire to be considered elite.

When I get home, I certainly won't polish the silverware, and I think I might refrain from calling Continental.