Is Ryanair starting to mind its manners?

A long-term shift in the industry could explain why Michael O'Leary's notoriously cavalier attitude toward his own customers is mellowing.

Good manners cost nothing but Michael O’Leary, the chief executive of the budget airline Ryanair, is an expert at putting a price on things people never expected to pay for. Customers who fail to print boarding passes are charged £70, checking in a bag at the airport can cost £100 and the airline periodically moots the idea of charging passengers to use the loos.

Ryanair ticket sales have historically proved immune to O’Leary’s lack of charm, and his boast that “short of committing murder, negative publicity sells more seats than positive publicity” appears irritatingly accurate. In June 2013, the International Air Transport Association reported that more than 80 million people flew Ryanair in 2012, nearly 30 million more than Lufthansa, the second most popular airline.

This makes O’Leary’s recent about-turn all the more intriguing, because he has announced a raft of concessions to make flying Ryanair a bit less unpleasant. The airline is increasing passengers’ carry-on allowance, decreasing penalty charges and giving customers a 24-hour “cooling-off” period during which they can correct mistakes to their booking. Passengers on early-morning or evening flights will no longer be subjected to headacheinducing public announcements urging them to buy e-cigarettes and scratch cards, or a grating fanfare every time their flight lands on time.

One possible explanation for O’Leary’s mellowing attitude is that Ryanair issued a warning that it might not meet its £480m profit target this year. Ryanair blamed the weakness of the European economies and price-cutting by rivals – but it could also point to a long-term shift in the industry. The gap between low-cost and legacy carriers is shrinking. Low-cost airlines were intended to appeal to holidaymakers on a budget but, having crowded out established carriers on some short-haul European routes, they are increasingly being used by cost-conscious business travellers, too.

Ryanair’s main rival, easyJet, has already introduced a series of measures to attract business passengers. Meanwhile, the low-cost airlines are expanding into markets still dominated by the conventional carriers. October brought the maiden international flight for Africa’s first low-cost airline, Fastjet. The same month, Norwegian Air Shuttle, the world’s fastest-growing budget airline, signalled an expansion into long-haul travel by unveiling plans for a flight from London to New York which will cost £149 one-way. On short-haul flights, where legacy airlines are at a comparative disadvantage, some carriers have tried to emulate their budget rivals. Aer Lingus and Iberia no longer provide free food and drinks on some routes.

In many ways, these changes were inevitable once air travel became a more accessible and, by extension, less luxurious mode of transport. In the early days of low-cost flying, passengers might have been willing to put up with rude treatment for Ryanair’s hugely popular £1 flights, but in a more competitive market O’Leary may be learning slowly that bad manners can be costly.

Has Michael O'Leary learned his lesson? Image: Rex Features

Sophie McBain is a freelance writer based in Cairo. She was previously an assistant editor at the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 30 October 2013 issue of the New Statesman, Should you bother to vote?

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“We don’t BeLiviu”: how Romania is rising against corruption

Night after night, activists gather in Victory Square to demand the resignation of the government.

For much of the year, the large tarmac square in front of the main government building in Bucharest is little more than a glorified roundabout, busy with traffic and surrounded by towering, communist-era blocks on one side and a wedge-shaped park on the other.

But when Romanians gather to protest, as they have done these past weeks in record numbers, it becomes a place of pent-up frustration; against the ruling class, the direction in which the country is heading and the way many politicians continue to use the public purse as a source of cash for their personal use. This was not how it was supposed to be, ten years after the country joined the European Union.

On 31 January Romania’s new government, in power for less than a month, sneaked in a piece of emergency legislation during a late-night session to weaken the punishment for abuse of power, negligence while in office and conflict of interest. In effect, the move decriminalised some forms of corruption, if the financial damage caused amounted to less than roughly £38,000.

Many Romanians and international observers saw it as a brazen attempt to help politicians facing legal problems, prominent among them Liviu Dragnea, the leader of Romania’s largest political party, the Social Democrats, and the president of the Chamber of Deputies (Romania’s House of Commons). Dragnea is facing trial for supposedly getting colleagues added to the public payroll even though they do not work for the state. He is one of many public officials facing a day in court; in fact, he has already faced the courts, earning a 2015 conviction for electoral fraud that barred him from becoming prime minister despite his party’s strong showing in parliamentary elections last December.

The backlash against the ordinance was swift, as night after night tens of thousands, even hundreds of thousands, and, once, half a million took to the streets to protest. On 5 February, between 500,000 and 600,000 people protested across Romania, with 300,000 in the government square alone. Demonstrations have also taken place in 50 towns and cities in the country, as well as in the Romanian diaspora.

The government backed down on its immediate plans and repealed the decree, but trust was by then long gone. Protests are now in their third week and, despite snowfall, show little sign of ending.

“This government needs to go. You can’t be elected in December and have hundreds of thousands on the streets in a month,” said Dorial Ilie, a 33-year-old PR worker, one cold evening in the square.

Romanians are fed up with corruption. The country sits 57th in Transparency International’s corruption perceptions index – up from 69th place in 2014, but corruption remains endemic, and Romania is near the bottom of the list when it comes to EU countries.

Despite the efforts of the country’s much-admired National Anti-corruption Directorate (DNA), set up in 2003 and responsible for the successful prosecution of thousands of politicians, civil servants, judges and business leaders, there is a sense that the rich and powerful still operate as if they were above the law. This was certainly not helped by the attempts to change the anti-corruption legislation.

“They had been planning to do this for years,” said Dan Popescu, a 46-year-old priest protesting in the square, echoing the sentiments of many of those around him.

The demonstrations, the largest in the country since the fall of Nicolae Ceausescu in 1989, have been an impressive display of people power in a country that is increasingly using the streets as a communication platform. Large-scale protests in Romania also brought down the last elected government in November 2015, after corruption was blamed for a fire in a Bucharest nightclub that left 64 dead, and before that, mass protests during the 2014 presidential election, this time over mismanagement of diaspora voting, arguably helped tip the balance in favour of the now-incumbent, Klaus Iohannis.

Protesters are hoping for a similar impact this time around, although, having survived a no-confidence vote in parliament on 8 February, the new government shows little willingness to depart.

At the same time, most of those gathering night after night in Victory Square – as the drab square outside the government building is officially known – are still loudly demanding the resignation of the government, but would probably settle for the resignations of Dragnea and the prime minister, Sorin Grindeanu.

After so many nights standing out in the cold, protesters have become very creative. Elaborate banners filled with puns (“We don’t BeLiviu”) have appeared, as have messages written with lasers and projected on to nearby buildings. Some have shone the Batman symbol on to the roof of a nearby museum, a funny (or perhaps desperate) plea for help. The national anthem is often sung. On Sunday, a sea of protesters held up pieces of paper coloured over their phone lights to create a vast Romanian flag.

Despite these touches of humour and inventiveness, there is a steely determination evident and it has only grown since the first night or two.

On 13 February the national parliament approved a referendum related to the fight against corruption, as proposed by the protest-supporting president. But most of those on the streets these past weeks would argue that they have already given their opinion on the matter.

Many Romanians are increasingly frustrated that they have to head out to protest time and again in order to hold their elected officials to account. Few believe that the present political class can change. “They’ll try again, in another way. Maybe in parliament, where they have a majority,” said Ioana David, an administrative worker for a construction company.

Even so, she – like so many others – is likely to continue to go out into Victory Square in the days and perhaps weeks ahead, in order to make sure her voice gets heard.

This article first appeared in the 16 February 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The New Times