I’m an irritant.

Let’s just say it. I know plenty of people at airlines, hotels, and loyalty programs who probably don’t like me. Some might tolerate my existence. Most probably just grit their teeth when I send a note.

Why? Because I’m not fawning.

Give the average travel writer an interview and they’ll smile, nod, and write nice things. I don’t really notice if I’m being mean. Or critical. Or just brutally honest. I write about the thing in front of me. I assume nobody is actually reading it. Then the phone rings. Some corporate communications person yells at me. Not because I was factually wrong. But because the CEO saw the post. And now someone has to check the box that says “we tried to handle it.”

It’s fine. I expect it.

My approach hasn’t changed in two decades. It’s simple. It’s predictable. It comes down to five core ideas that drive every angry rant or polite complaint I’ve published since 2002

Loyalty Shouldn’t Be a Part-Time Job

Travel programs are a contract of trust. You give loyalty up front. You bank hours or points. The brand promises benefits later. When they devalue those points overnight without warning, that’s not “dynamic pricing.” It’s a rug pull

And don’t tell me hiding award charts makes it more flexible. It doesn’t. It just lets them raise the price without anyone noticing until their savings account suddenly emptier than expected. If there’s no chart to compare against, how do you know you’re being screwed? You don’t. Until it’s too late

Deliver What You Promise

This sounds basic. Yet it’s the first thing brands abandon when margins tighten.

Hotels fail to hold room reservations. Rental car counters act like your booking was a hallucination. Airlines deny boardings and then argue they only owe you transportation from A-to-B.

That last one drives me insane. If I buy a premium seat and it’s taken because some algorithm deemed a baby “less valuable,” that’s a lie. American Airlines claimed the baby got there so the seat was “used.” I disagreed.

Contracts aren’t magic shields for bad behavior. When you sell a seat, sell a seat. When you promise 4pm checkout, let people out at 4pm. Stop crossing your fingers behind the scenes

Details Matter More Than Price

Cheap is not the same as bad. But often, lazy looks like cheap.

Think about bed frames that stick out too far. Guests break their shins on the way to their nightstands. Think about amenity kits filled with three different types of lettuce instead of something actually useful. Or lights in a room that have no obvious switch.

These aren’t expensive to fix. They require sweat. They require looking at the product through the eyes of a human who isn’t an internal tester. Great products are built on these tiny details. Ignoring them is just a way to avoid thinking

Respect Shared Spaces

There are unwritten rules.

Bare feet on bulkhead panels are unacceptable. Painting toenails in coach is selfish. These habits impose costs. Extra cleaning time. Delays. Those costs flow downstream into higher prices for everyone.

We are sharing a pressurized metal tube. Or a small box for the night. Basic decency isn’t a luxury item. It’s the baseline.

Stop Lying for Convenience

Especially when safety is the shield.

Security procedures move slowly because they have to. Much of TSA policy exists because lobbyists for checkpoint contractors got what they wanted. But pretending that every rule stops a “top-secret terror plot” is dishonest. Most bad actors are amateurs. Most don’t even get off the plane. Hardening checkpoints doesn’t stop threats. It just makes them inconvenient to execute.

We should be honest about the real trade-offs. Safety yes. Convenience no? Maybe. But stop hiding bureaucratic inertia behind national security fear.


I value my points. But I value the math more.

Points are less flexible than cash. They devalue. They are risky. If you treat them as equivalent to the retail price of a flight, you’re usually losing. Not always. But often enough to be annoying.

I’ve been writing this for 24 years. The themes stay the same. The targets change.

You can disagree with me. Comments are still open. I moderate only for harassment, explicit content, or doxxing. Otherwise, say what you think. I write all my own words. Rarely let others contribute.

If this frustrates you, good. You’re probably reading the wrong publication for your career strategy.