Is less more?

Given the airline industry’s dismal state, passengers have accepted recent cuts in amenities, services and meals without much complaining. But when American Airlines announced it would scrap its roomier economy-class seats on nearly a quarter of its flights, Ed Kummel snapped. “What’s next?” asked the network engineer from Ashburn, Va. “Standing-room only with flight attendants holding cattle prods?”

The latest round of reductions suggests the big airlines are operating under a flawed assumption. Passengers, they seem to believe, want one thing: low fares. American says it’s returning to what it euphemistically calls “standard” seating because passengers said they’re more interested in low prices than roomier seats. Or, put differently, customers actually asked for the change.

American isn’t the only airline with sardine seats. On a recent United Airlines flight from Washington to Las Vegas, Kummel found himself wedged into an enclosure so tight that “if I dropped something on the floor … it would be impossible to retrieve.”

I feel his pain. I recently flew from Fort Lauderdale to New York on discount carrier Spirit Airlines, where half my legroom vanished when the passenger in front of me reclined as far as her seat would go. Being 6 feet, 2 inches tall, that hurt.

But when it comes to airline travel, is less really more? The major airlines, which are aggressively cutting costs and services to return to profitability, assume they have no other choice. It would be impossible to offer low fares — and make money — without significant reductions in service. Besides, customers don’t care about the amenities, right?

Wrong. In the USA, no-frills airlines continue to offer creature comforts along with competitive fares. Internationally, airlines have soared to profitability by adding extras, not taking them away. If major airlines really listened to customers, they would hear a far different story than what they say they’re hearing. They would hear that comfort counts for something.

If travelers really wanted a bare-bones experience, how does that explain why some no-frills airlines continue to give customers amenities that the full-service airlines have jettisoned? For example, profitable Southwest Airlines doesn’t serve in-flight meals. But it doesn’t skimp on legroom. The average distance between seats is 32.5 inches. By comparison, many major airlines offer 31 inches, and in some cases a scant 30 inches of space.

You won’t find in-flight meals on JetBlue Airways either, but it gives its customers free satellite TV at every seat. Even Spirit Airlines, which offers rock-bottom fares and a meager 30 inches of seat space, lets you upgrade to a roomier first-class seat for a reasonable price. (On my flight, it would have cost $180 on top of my $128 round-trip fare, compared with a $1,164 front-of-the-cabin seat on a comparable American flight. An economy-class ticket on the American flight would have cost $150).

If passengers wanted nothing more than cheap seats, then why are JetBlue, Southwest and Spirit making money while the legacy carriers are hemorrhaging cash? The conventional wisdom among domestic full-service airlines may be to cut services, but that’s not the case overseas. German carrier Lufthansa, which last year launched an all-business-class service between Newark, N.J., and Düsseldorf, Germany, recently expanded the upscale flights between Newark, N.J., and Munich, as well as Chicago and Düsseldorf. Lufthansa made $760 million last year.

Singapore Airlines, which has won practically every award for its in-flight service, seems to be in a perpetual state of outdoing itself. The latest: a $100 million overhaul of its business-class cabin, featuring a state-of-the-art entertainment system and 78-inch-long seats that recline into beds. It recently reported a $1 billion profit for the last fiscal year — after taxes.

So if travelers don’t care about in-flight amenities, then why are their overseas rivals performing so well by improving their products?

But the most unbelievable reason airlines give for getting rid of meals, amenities and seat room is that customers ask for it. American isn’t the only carrier using that faulty logic. Midwest Airlines, the regional carrier known for its all-business-class strategy, used the same argument when it announced the Midwest Airlines Saver, which will feature smaller seats and lower prices. Travelers wanted it, it says. But do they?

In all my years covering the travel industry I’ve never heard a passenger ask for less legroom, to skip lunch or to breathe less fresh air. Sure, low prices are important, but if the flying experience is too unbearable, they’ll refuse to darken the door of a jetway.

Maybe it’s time for the big airlines to restore some amenities even if they run up costs in the short-term. Yes, they are straining under the weight of high labor costs, and every penny counts. But indiscriminate service reductions are no way to reach profitability. In many ways, the big carriers remain bureaucratic behemoths in desperate need of cutting management and killing inefficient routes. They need to be nimble like their low-cost rivals but generous like their international peers to survive.

If they don’t change course, many disgruntled passengers say they’ll take their business elsewhere. Kummel, the trapped passenger, says he’s switching to JetBlue as are his co-workers. If cuts continue, then a day could come when the no-frills airlines will be known for their amenities and the full-service airlines for their lack of them. Now that would be strange.

Christopher Elliott is the author of Scammed: How to Save Your Money and Find Better Service in a World of Schemes, Swindles, and Shady Deals. Critics have called it “eye-opening” and “inspiring” — it’ll “grab your attention and won’t let go.” Order your copy now on Amazon, Barnes & Noble or iTunes.

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