Who loves turbulence, flight food and the middle seat? They do

Passengers don’t need much of a reminder that the golden age of commercial aviation is well behind us. Climate change has worsened some types of turbulence, meal service has shrunk to the size of a snack box and airlines have crammed in seats. And don’t get Transportation Secretary Sean Duffy started on travelers in pajamas.

But not everyone hates the things that most of us find unlovable about air travel. Some flyers long for turbulence that feels like a Six Flags ride, savor that tiny plastic dish of lasagna or happily soak up every inch of the middle seat.

Strange as it may seem, these oddly joyful travelers may have something to teach the rest of us about enduring — and even appreciating — the small indignities of travel, if we shift our perspective.

“We all take our dignity down a level when we board an airplane,” said Vicki Denig, 34, who writes about wine and travel from Paris and New York. “And I think that there’s a little bit of humor to be found in that.”

Turbulence: The Thrill Seekers

A captain warning passengers of a “few bumps ahead” over the P.A. system can elicit anxiety for the many, and anticipation for the few. I asked an airline pilot what he thought drove those who felt excited.

“Some people are soothed by the ripples of light turbulence,” said Patrick Smith, a commercial pilot who writes about aviation. “It helps them sleep.”

Of course, a pilot would say that. But some flyers genuinely relish the turbulence itself.

“It’s just fun,” said Harshit Baranwal, 34, a technology worker who frequently posts on social media about aviation. “It’s the roller-coaster feeling that you feel in the belly when the plane goes up and down,” said Baranwal, who lives in Mumbai, India, where monsoons can make for choppy takeoffs and landings.

Mild-to-moderate bumps, a normal part of flying, are far from the violent — and, in rare cases, deadly — shaking that has become more common in the skies as the planet warms. That kind of turbulence, unsurprisingly, does not have a discernible fan base.

Turbulence is no different from the motion of a boat rocked by waves, explained Matthew E. Cappucci, a Washington-based meteorologist, journalist and storm chaser who has been obsessed with weather since early childhood. “The atmosphere is a fluid,” Cappucci said in an interview, “just as much of a fluid as a lake or the ocean.”

For him, turbulence is not an uncomfortable experience, but the wonder of physics at work.

Cappucci, like Baranwal, knows that his enthusiasm is uncommon. Several years ago, he recalled, he and his mother were on a flight that was experiencing severe turbulence. The aircraft made several sharp drops, which thrilled Cappucci but terrified his mom. He tried to calm her with a cheerful discourse on science.

“My mother told me to shut up,” Cappucci said.

Middle Seats: The Zen Masters

As you jostle for inches on the shared armrests, it is hard to imagine that rare person who becomes excited about Seats B and E.

It turns out that even the middle seat has devoted fans.

“Unpopular FACT, but someone needs to say it. The middle seat on an airplane is the best seat,” content creator Joshua Whitt wrote in a TikTok post last summer. “It’s like a midair cuddle that you don’t deserve, but you are privileged to have.”

Others take a more philosophical view. The act of calmly occupying the middle seat, they say, is a Zen-like practice, the ultimate lifehack. Master the middle seat and nothing will master you.

James Cashen, 26, works in advertising and lives in New York City’s Brooklyn borough. But his girlfriend moved to Utah, which means he is on an airplane two or three times a month. He admits to being “cheap,” so he often ends up in the middle seat — but he doesn’t mind it.

His secret coping power is to strike up conversations with the passengers who flank him. The person in the middle seat holds sway over the vibe of the entire row, Cashen said. Will the three of you zone out to podcasts, stew in silence or have a lively conversation?

“Embrace the leadership role,” Cashen advised other middle-seaters. “You’re the glue.”

Airplane Food: The Single-Serving Optimists

Judging by social media images bemoaning pallid cuts of chicken or gravelly oatmeal, passengers don’t feel particularly lucky, despite efforts to perk up those meals by people like Anthony Wright, director of design and innovation at LSG Sky Chefs, which says it produces 233 million airline meals per year.

“People’s taste buds change in the air,” Wright said. “They say that the palate is dulled.” Rather than adding salt and pepper, he said, chefs have turned to spices influenced by the cuisines of countries like India and Malaysia.

But some passengers love airplane meals just the way they are.

Linda Christina Karam, 26, a marketing executive who divides her time between Lebanon and Dubai, United Arab Emirates, said she liked the predictability of airline food. In a society suffering from decision fatigue, she finds the limited menu comforting.

The high-altitude setting also plays a big role for Karam. “There’s something about airplane food that makes it good,” she said. “You’re only ever going to eat it on a plane.”

Karam scoffed at people who brought food from the terminal to eat during the flight. “That removes the whole plane experience,” she said. Her advice for anyone hesitant about the lasagna, the tiny salad or one of those inexplicably cold dinner rolls works just as well in other parts of life: “You’ve got to just risk it.”

This article originally appeared in The New York Times.