The woman sitting in front of me on this plane seems perfectly nice. She， like me， is traveling coach class1） from Washington to Los Angeles. She had a nice chat before takeoff with the man sitting next to her， in which she revealed she is an elementary school teacher， an extremely honorable profession. She， like me， has an aisle seat and has spent most of the flight watching TV. Nevertheless， I hate her.

Why？ Shes a recliner.

For five minutes after takeoff， every passenger on an airliner exists in a state of nature. Everyone is equally as uncomfortable as everyone else. The passengers are blank slates2）， subjects of an experiment in morality which begins the moment the seat-belt light turns off.

Ding！ Instantly the jerk in 11C reclines his seat all the way back. The guy in 12C， his book shoved3） into his face， reclines as well. 13C goes next. And soon the reclining has cascaded4） like rows of dominos to the back of the plane， where the poor bastards5） in the last row see their personal space reduced to about a cubic foot6）.

Or else7） there are those， like me， who refuse to be so rude as to inconvenience the passengers behind us. Here I sit， fuming8）， all the way from IAD9） to LAX10）， the deceptively nice-seeming schoolteachers seat back so close to my chin that to watch TV I must nearly cross my eyes. To type on this laptop while still fully opening the screen requires me to jam the laptops edge into my stomach.

Obviously， everyone on the plane would be better off if no one reclined； the minor gain in comfort when you tilt your seat back 5 degrees is certainly offset11） by the discomfort when the person in front of you does the same. But of course someone always will recline her seat， like the people in the first row， or the woman in front of me， whom I hate.

What option do we， the reclined-upon， have？ You can politely ask the person in front of you not to recline. But then the person in front of you is filled with resentment， because he feels you have forced him to give up his comfort in favor of yours.

And it might not even work. Once， on a flight from Chicago to Honolulu12）， a sweet old Hawaiian lady and her husband sat in front of me， and both reclined their seats at the very beginning of the eight-hour trip. “Excuse me，” I said. “Thats very uncomfortable. Is there any chance you could put your seat back up， at least partway？” “No！” she snapped. “We paid for these goddamn seats， and well recline them if we want to.” So then everyone was angry.

The problem isnt with passengers， though the evidence demonstrates that many passengers are little better than sociopaths13） acting only for their own good. The problem is with the plane. In a closed system in which just one recliner out of 200 passengers can ruin it for dozens of people， it is too much to expect that everyone will act in the interest of the common good. People recline their seats because their seats recline. But why on earth do seats recline？ Wouldnt it be better for everyone if seats simply didnt？

Reclining seats have been with us as long as airlines began making human passengers a priority. In the 1920s and 1930s， people were an afterthought14）； planes were meant to carry airmail and cargo， and any humans who wanted to come along were welcome to pay an astronomical15） fare and sit in wicker chairs. “Reclining seats were not a universal treatment until the DC-316） era，” beginning in 1935， says John Hill， assistant director in charge of aviation at the SFO Museum. In the beginning， reclining seats—along with footrests and in-seat ashtrays—were designed as part of airlines commitment to deluxe17） accommodations， as captains of industry in three-piece suits18） sipped martinis on board， stretching their legs one way and tilting their seats the other.

The seats persisted， even as airlines moved to the tiered19） service model we know now， which required packing more and more customers into economy in order to keep RPK （revenue per kilometer） high. “They didnt want to give up the idea of luxury altogether，” Hill notes. But these days， flying is simply an ordeal to be survived. In the era of cheap tickets and passengers crammed onto flights like sardines20）， reclining seats make no sense.

Thats why the woman in front of me does not really deserve my hatred. Miss Manners21） agrees： the real offending party is the airline—in this case， Virgin America. They installed stylish purple lighting and sleek leatheresque seats in this A320 jet； they serve much better food than you might expect； even their in-flight safety video is endearingly written and animated. And the seats on Virgin （and every airline， really） are a marvel： “One of the most highly tuned man-made environments， period22），” Hill notes， “optimized for space and weight and safety.” But despite all these nods toward modern， customer-friendly design， Virgin still， in opposition to all that is right and good， installs reclining seats on their planes. Just like everyone else.

Some European airlines have begun installing seats that are slightly tilted in their natural resting state， which， anecdotally at least， helps convince passengers they dont need to tilt further. But that doesnt go far enough. Its time for an outright ban on reclining seats on airplanes. Im not demanding that airlines rip out the old seats and install new ones； lets just extend the requirement that seats remain upright during takeoff and landing through the entire flight. There is an actual good reason for this regulation： upright seats are safer in a crash， and allow for easier evacuation.

Of course， this whole debate has a limited shelf life23）. Ten years from now， if financially strapped American carriers exist at all， theyll surely have gone the way of budget24） European airline Ryanair， with its non reclining seats—and horrifying 30-inch seat pitch25）. When I fly in one of those planes of the future， will I be comfortable？ Absolutely not. But I wont complain， because at least everyone else will be exactly as uncomfortable as me.

在這架飛機(jī)上，坐在我前面的女人看起來極為友好。和我一樣，她坐經(jīng)濟(jì)艙從華盛頓飛往洛杉磯。在飛機(jī)起飛之前，她和鄰座的男士進(jìn)行了愉快的交談，從中她提到自己是一名小學(xué)教師，這是一個(gè)非常光榮的職業(yè)。和我一樣，她也坐在靠過道的座位上，用看電視打發(fā)大部分飛行時(shí)間。然而，我討厭她。

為什么？因?yàn)樗髢A了椅背。

在起飛后的頭五分鐘內(nèi)，客機(jī)上的每位乘客都處于自然落座的狀態(tài)。大家的不舒適度是一樣的。乘客們像一張張白紙，從安全帶提示燈熄滅的那一刻起開始經(jīng)受一場道德的考驗(yàn)。

叮！坐在11C座位上的蠢貨立即將椅背向后傾斜到最大程度，坐在12C座位上的家伙的書被擠到臉上，于是他也向后倒去。接著是13C。不一會(huì)兒，椅背如一排排多米諾骨牌般朝飛機(jī)尾部倒去，坐在最后一排的可憐的家伙們只能眼睜睜地看著自己的空間被縮小到約一立方英尺。

也有一些人，他們和我一樣拒絕做出如此粗魯?shù)男袨?，以免給后面的乘客帶來不便。我坐在那里，從華盛頓機(jī)場到洛杉磯機(jī)場全程都憤怒無比。那個(gè)徒有和善外表的小學(xué)教師的椅背是如此靠近我的下巴，以致我看電視時(shí)幾乎得用“斗雞眼”。為了在這臺(tái)筆記本電腦上打字時(shí)使屏幕完全打開，我需要讓筆記本電腦的邊緣頂著我的肚子。

顯而易見，如果沒人將椅背后傾，飛機(jī)上的每個(gè)人都會(huì)更加自在。你將椅背后傾五度獲得的輕微舒適感肯定會(huì)被前面人的同樣行為帶來的不適感抵消。但當(dāng)然有些人總是會(huì)后傾椅背，比如坐在第一排的那些人或坐在我前面的那個(gè)令我討厭的女人。

我們這些被后傾椅背打擾的人能做些什么呢？你可以禮貌地請前面的人不要后傾椅背。但接著你前面的那個(gè)人會(huì)滿腔憤恨，因?yàn)樗麜?huì)感覺你強(qiáng)迫他為了你的利益而放棄他自己的舒適權(quán)。

而且這種請求可能根本沒用。一次，在芝加哥飛往檀香山的航班上，一位可愛的夏威夷老婦人和她的丈夫坐在我前面，在八個(gè)小時(shí)的旅程中，他們兩人從一開始就后傾椅背?！安缓靡馑?，”我說，“這樣我很不舒服，您能不能立起椅背，至少立起一部分？”“不行！”她厲聲說，“我們?yōu)檫@些該死的座椅付了錢，我們想向后傾斜椅背就向后傾斜。”結(jié)果之后大家都生氣了。

盡管有證據(jù)表明，與反社會(huì)分子相比，許多只顧自己利益的乘客并未好多少，但問題不是出在乘客身上，而在于飛機(jī)本身。在一個(gè)封閉系統(tǒng)中，200名乘客中只要有一人后傾椅背，幾十人都會(huì)受到影響，而想讓人人都從公共利益的角度出發(fā)行事未免期望過高。人們后傾椅背是因?yàn)樗麄兊囊伪晨梢詢A斜。但是座椅到底為什么要傾斜呢？如果座椅根本沒這個(gè)功能，對所有人豈不是更好？

自航空公司開始秉承“乘客優(yōu)先”的政策以來，可調(diào)式座椅就一直存在于我們的生活中。在20世紀(jì)20～30年代，乘客不是優(yōu)先考慮的對象，飛機(jī)主要用于運(yùn)輸航空郵件和貨物，任何想搭乘飛機(jī)的人需以天價(jià)購買機(jī)票，然后坐在藤椅上同行?！霸诘栏窭笵C-3型飛機(jī)的時(shí)代到來之前，可調(diào)式座椅并不是一種普遍的待遇?！迸f金山國際機(jī)場博物館負(fù)責(zé)航空業(yè)務(wù)的副館長約翰·希爾說道，那個(gè)時(shí)代開始于1935年。起初，可調(diào)式座椅——連同擱腳板和座椅內(nèi)置煙灰缸——都是航空公司致力于豪華設(shè)施的部分設(shè)計(jì)，讓身穿三件套西裝的企業(yè)巨頭們可以在飛機(jī)上啜飲馬丁尼酒的時(shí)候，既能向前伸腿，也能向后傾斜座椅。

這樣的座椅一直保留下來了，盡管航空公司已轉(zhuǎn)變成我們現(xiàn)在所了解的分層服務(wù)模式，需要在經(jīng)濟(jì)艙塞下越來越多的乘客，從而使得每公里的收入保持較高?！八麄儾幌胪耆艞壣莩薜睦砟??！毕栔赋觥５侨缃?，坐飛機(jī)無非就是個(gè)熬人的痛苦差事。在廉價(jià)機(jī)票以及乘客們像沙丁魚一樣擠在航班中的時(shí)代，可調(diào)式座椅毫無意義。

這就是為什么我前面的女人其實(shí)不應(yīng)該遭到我憎恨。“禮儀小姐”認(rèn)為：真正的冒犯方是航空公司——對于這次事件，冒犯者就是維珍美國航空公司。它們在這架A320噴氣式飛機(jī)上安裝了時(shí)尚的紫光燈和光滑的皮革式座椅；他們提供了超乎你期待的更好的食物；甚至他們的飛行安全動(dòng)畫視頻都被編排得分外討喜。維珍航空公司航班的座椅（事實(shí)上，每個(gè)航空公司都一樣）真是十分了不起?！耙痪湓?，它是一種最和諧的人造環(huán)境，”希爾指出，“在空間、重量和安全方面都實(shí)現(xiàn)了最優(yōu)化?！彪m然人們對飛機(jī)的顧客友好型的現(xiàn)代設(shè)計(jì)予以了這些肯定，但是維珍航空公司沒有一切都向正確和好的方向去做，與其他航空公司一樣，它也在自己的飛機(jī)上安裝了可調(diào)式座椅。

一些歐洲航空公司已經(jīng)開始安裝在自然備用狀態(tài)時(shí)小幅傾斜的座椅，有傳聞?wù)f，這至少有助于讓乘客確信他們不需要進(jìn)一步后傾。但是那樣做還遠(yuǎn)遠(yuǎn)不夠。是時(shí)候徹底禁止在飛機(jī)上后傾座椅了。我并非要求航空公司拆掉舊座椅再安上新的；現(xiàn)有規(guī)定是座椅在起飛和降落時(shí)要保持豎直狀態(tài)，我們只需把這個(gè)規(guī)定擴(kuò)充至整個(gè)飛行過程。制定這項(xiàng)規(guī)定有一個(gè)絕佳的現(xiàn)實(shí)理由：在遇到空難時(shí)，豎直座椅更加安全，更易于疏散。

當(dāng)然，關(guān)于這個(gè)問題的爭論終會(huì)有結(jié)束的時(shí)候。從現(xiàn)在開始的十年后，如果經(jīng)費(fèi)緊張的美國航空公司的確還在，它們一定是走了預(yù)算低的歐洲瑞安航空公司的路，安裝不能后傾的座椅——座椅間距只有30英寸，令人震驚。在未來，當(dāng)我乘坐某架那種飛機(jī)時(shí)，我會(huì)感覺舒服嗎？肯定不會(huì)。但我不會(huì)抱怨，因?yàn)橹辽倨渌艘餐耆臀乙粯硬皇娣?/p>

1. coach class：經(jīng)濟(jì)艙

2. blank slate：原意為“空白的石板”，可喻指思想還未受到周圍人影響的人，思想無固有特征的人。

3. shove [??v] vt. 推，擠

4. cascade [k??ske?d] vi. 像瀑布般地落下

5. bastard [?bɑ?st?d] n. 倒霉蛋，可憐蟲

6. cubic foot：立方英尺

7. or else：要么（用于表示另有可能）

8. fume [fju?m] vi. 發(fā)怒

9. IAD：華盛頓杜勒斯國際機(jī)場（Dulles International Airport）的三字代碼

10. LAX：洛杉磯國際機(jī)場（Los Angeles International Airport）的三字代碼

11. offset [??fset] vt. 彌補(bǔ)，抵消

12. Honolulu：檀香山，又稱為火奴魯魯，是美國夏威夷州首府和港口城市。

13. sociopath [?s??si??p?θ] n. 反社會(huì)者（指知道自己在做錯(cuò)事但毫不在乎的精神病態(tài)者）

14. afterthought [?ɑ?ft?θ??t] n. 后來想到的事物；后來添加的東西

15. astronomical [??str??n?m?kl] adj. 極巨大的

16. DC-3：指道格拉斯DC-3，一種雙引擎螺旋槳飛機(jī)，于1935年面世，在飛機(jī)內(nèi)首次設(shè)置了廚房與床位，為商業(yè)飛行帶來了革命性的突破。

17. deluxe [?d??l?ks] adj. 高級的；豪華的；奢華的

18. three-piece suits：西裝三件套，包括西服、西褲和馬甲。

19. tiered [t??（r）d] adj. 分層的，層疊的

20. sardine [?sɑ??di?n] n. 沙丁魚

21. Miss Manners：“禮儀小姐”，《華盛頓郵報(bào)》的禮儀專欄作家朱迪思·馬丁（Judith Martin， 1938～）的筆名

22. period [?p??ri?d] int. 〈美口〉（用于敘述事實(shí)或看法后表示強(qiáng)調(diào)）就是這話；就是這么回事

23. shelf life：某物（流行、有用或成功）的時(shí)間段

24. budget [?b?d??t] adj. 低預(yù)算的

25. seat pitch：座位間距