Portrait of Henry David Thoreau (1817-1862) by Félix Valloton (1865-1925)

On my last trip to New York City, a quick middle-of-the-week business journey that involved a lot of meetings and speaking, my seatmate was a very large man who looked to be 11 months pregnant.

When he heaved into the aisle seat next to me, I knew I was in for an uncomfortable, squeezed-in flight.

Obviously I survived, not the worse for wear but nonetheless miffed at the cramped experience. Back home I recounted the incident to several friends who had had their own flying encounters with bawling babies, elbowing seatmates and talkative old ladies.

Air travel has become something of a purgatory

So it was with some curiosity -- and, admittedly, a bit of trepidaion -- that I read about United Airlines' new policy for obese passengers, people who are "unable to fit into a single seat in the ticketed cabin; are unable to properly buckle the seatbelt using a single seatbelt extender; and/or are unable to put the seat's armrests down when seated."

On full flights, the company will make obese passengers buy two tickets or upgrade to business class. If those options aren't available, the flier will be bumped to another flight.

This is by no means a one-of-a-kind policy.

A handful of other airlines have had these rules for a while, a sign that our expanding waistlines (and buttocks) are damaging things beyond our heart and health. A United spokeswoman said that the tough policy was adopted after the carrier received more than 700 complaints last year from passengers who said the person next to them "infringed" on their seat.

In a world teetering on economic disaster, I thought that such news would pass unnoticed, filed under a folder with an inauspicious title: "Sign of the Times." It didn't. Instead, the blogosphere clamped on this tidbit with surprising ferocity. There were accusations of everything from sexism to heft discrimination, followed by an equally defensive stance demanding "fatties" drop the excess poundage.

PETA, not known for mincing words or placating platitudes, even got into the act.

It put up new billboards with the tagline "Don't Pay for Two Seats -- Go Vegetarian." The animal rights organization says obese air travelers should slim down on a vegetarian diet.

Well ... well.

During all this, my thoughts turned not to my fellow New York traveler, who was obviously as uncomfortable as I was -- perhaps even mortified -- but to the narrow real estate airlines now sell as economy seats. I'm of normal weight but tall, and flying in the regular cabin always makes me feel like a magician's assistant, the spangled, smiling woman who folds herself into a trunk. I joke I need WD-40 for my joints after a long flight.

More importantly, the debate over United's new passenger policy focuses the spotlight on an ongoing debate over the implications of obesity: Is it a disability or a personal failing?

Who should bear the costs, health, travel and otherwise, of seriously overweight people? Do certain policies perpetuate the negative stigma of the obese? And how much should the rest of us be inconvenienced by others before we demand protection?

These are hardly rhetorical questions as we continue to pack on the fat. With at least one in every third American classified as obese, the likelihood of someone spilling onto your plane seat is better than that of making money in today's stock market.

That said, something about United's new rules rubs me the wrong way.

If there's an airline policy for the wide-hipped, I worry about who will be targeted next. The seat kicker? Children under 2? The loud iPod player?

The skies are indeed fraught with unusual perils.

 

©, The Miami Herald Distributed by Tribune Media Services, Inc.

 

Maybe Those Airline Seats are Too Small