I have read the leaked European Commission draft guidelines refusing to subsidize the aviation sector, and I must agree: a minor reconfiguration of the Middle Eastern map simply does not ruin a holiday.
I was sitting in the Senator Lounge at Frankfurt Airport on Thursday, swirling a moderately acceptable vintage of Bordeaux and waiting for my connection to the Maldives, when I read the leaked Reuters report. The European Union has drafted guidelines informing airlines that the current geopolitical crisis in Iran is simply not severe enough to justify emergency bailouts for the tourism sector. Naturally, the aviation industry is furious. But as someone who has maintained Diamond Medallion status through no fewer than four regional conflicts, I must stand with the European Commission on this one.
The airlines are whining. They cry that the airspace is closed. They complain that routing around the Persian Gulf adds two hours to their Bangkok leg and burns thousands of gallons of excess jet fuel. To which I say: grow up. This is a business. When I had dinner last month with a senior undersecretary of the European Aviation Safety Agency—we were dining in Geneva, and the veal was spectacular—we both agreed that the modern airline executive has become hopelessly coddled by the pandemic.
Back in 2020, governments handed out billions in dedicated measures because planes were grounded. But COVID-19 was a genuine tragedy. It shut down the thermal spas in St. Moritz. It made it impossible for me to visit my tailor in Milan. It forced me to spend six months entirely within the borders of my own primary residence. The Iran war, by contrast, is happening entirely outside of my line of sight, mostly in places I would never dream of summering anyway.
The audacity of the tourism sector to demand emergency subsidies right now is staggering. Let us examine the actual, on-the-ground reality of traveling during this so-called crisis. Last week, I flew Emirates from London to Dubai. Yes, the captain did come on the intercom to announce we would be taking a slight detour over Egyptian airspace to avoid an active exchange of ballistic munitions. Did this delay my arrival? By perhaps forty-five minutes. Did the flight attendants stop pouring the Dom Pérignon? Absolutely not.
If anything, the altered flight paths provide a rather thrilling, panoramic view of the geopolitical landscape. Looking down at the shimmering, anti-aircraft tracer fire somewhere over the Levant, I could not help but feel a profound sense of peace. It really puts things into perspective. Specifically, the perspective that I am at thirty-eight thousand feet, and the people dealing with the consequences of this conflict are not.
The European Union fails to understand that flying wide-body jets over an active theater of war requires us to ask our premium passengers to sit in their lie-flat pods for an extra ninety minutes, which is an unbearable economic hardship.
Vance’s bellyaching is typical of an industry that expects the taxpayer to underwrite its every inconvenience. As the European Commission rightfully noted in its draft document, the current situation does not point to the need for dedicated measures for the tourism sector. I applaud the Commission's stoic, distinctly European refusal to pretend this war matters to anyone checking into a luxury resort.
Furthermore, the geopolitical situation is already stabilizing, at least according to the people who matter. Donald Trump, a man who intuitively understands that international conflicts are mostly just bad branding, has already stated that a peace deal is very possible. Iran is reportedly reviewing a peace proposal as we speak. Do you think they are reviewing it in a vacuum? No. They are reviewing it because they know the European summer holiday season is approaching, and nobody wants to be the pariah who ruins Mykonos for the international elite.
Let us be honest with ourselves: what exactly is the tourism sector losing here? Are there throngs of intrepid German backpackers furious that their walking tours of Tehran have been canceled? Is the American middle class weeping because they cannot take a Carnival cruise through the Strait of Hormuz? The core destinations—the Amalfi Coast, the Swiss Alps, the private islands of the Caribbean—remain completely untouched by the shrapnel.
The airlines must recognize that a minor reconfiguration of the Middle Eastern balance of power is simply the cost of doing business in a globalized world. If they cannot afford to fly slightly to the left of a drone strike without begging Brussels for a handout, perhaps they do not deserve to survive in the free market.
During COVID, my favorite boutique hotel in Paris had to close for a year. That was a systemic shock that demanded government intervention. A few localized bombings in the cradle of civilization is, at worst, an operational hiccup. I am begging the airlines to show a little resilience.
I will be flying to the Seychelles next week. I expect my flight to depart on time. I expect the hot towels to be adequately steamed. And if we must skirt the edges of an active combat zone to get there, I only ask that the pilot banks gently enough not to spill my drink. The EU Commission has drawn a line in the sand, and I am proud to stand behind it: we will not let millions of people in a war zone disrupt our weekend getaways.