Air Travel: Disabled Passengers

Baroness Grey-Thompson Excerpts

Thursday 23rd November 2023 Grand Committee

[Baroness Grey-Thompson (CB)]

My Lords, I thank the noble Baroness, Lady Brinton, for tabling this debate today and asking such pertinent questions. Nothing that she has said has surprised me. This issue is close to my heart, and working on this speech has been relatively cathartic.

As an athlete, I was privileged to be able to travel extensively, and with that have come many interesting experiences. The issue with being a disabled traveller is that the bad journeys are so horrendous that it is easy to think that getting on and off a plane in a vaguely timely manner, not being forced to sit in a special little room—which is claimed to be better for us—and not having a damaged chair is fabulous, when actually it is just what non-disabled people take for granted. When your view of travelling is so skewed to expect it to be bad, it is easy to see why things are slow to improve.

I do not mind checking in early, getting to the gate early, having to give up my day chair and not getting off until the end. I understand that, being disabled, I have to do things differently, but, even with all that, we do not have equality. I shall take a few moments to recount some of my favourite disasters. If I had the whole hour, that would still not be enough to cover them all.

When flying with my then young daughter, the two of us had preboarded but I was told that I was not a responsible adult to fly with her and that I needed to find someone, literally anyone—in fact, a stranger—to say that they would take responsibility for her.

Over the years, both my racing chair and my day chair have been severely damaged and even lost. One time my day chair was put on a completely different plane to me, which was incredible, seeing that it was carried down the steps and the hold door was right next to them. I realised, thanks to the length of time that I was left on the plane when I arrived back in Birmingham, that there was something wrong, and my day chair did not arrive. I was asked whether I really needed it. That is potentially a fair question, as not everyone is a permanent wheelchair user and I might have been able to use an airport chair. I was asked if I could walk and I said no, I was paralysed. The next question was, “Have you ever tried to walk?” Clearly I was missing the obvious: maybe I had just not tried hard enough.

Later, I was excited to be told that my missing item was going to be returned to me. When it landed on my doorstep, it was two sleeping bags with another person’s name on them going to a destination that I was nowhere near. The individual who dropped them off queried whether I actually knew what I had lost. When I said it was a wheelchair, I was asked whether I was sure it was a wheelchair. My day chair was returned to me several months later pretty much sawn in half, and I was offered £200 compensation for a £5,000 wheelchair.

Disabled people are asked to preboard to give us more time to allow the use of an aisle chair, but on one occasion, when the team did not turn up to help me on, the airline had to start boarding the rest of the plane. When I eventually managed to get on, the pilot announced to the whole cabin that we were late because of me. I have to say that I was angry for being blamed. I was not even accorded the courtesy of being called a wheelchair user; I was called “the wheelchair”. That has happened so many times.

Another time, when I was refused my day chair at the gate, even though it had a gate tag on it, I was blamed for delaying the next flight. My daughter was two years old and by that age we did not use a pram for her; she used to sit on my knee for longer walks, and the distance from the gate to baggage was too far for her to walk. The airport would not allow her to sit on my knee in the airport chair because it was not insured to carry two people. It was suggested that, if she could not walk that far on her own, perhaps she could crawl.

I have also been refused boarding after checking in because the pilot told me, “We already have three of you”. I am not entirely sure what the three of us were. I was travelling with the British team, so we had to work out which three of us should take the first flight to get to our destination in order to compete and which athletes could be left behind. On a different flight, I was asked whether I really needed my racing chair to compete. The answer was yes.

One airline told me that it had put me in a specific seat on the plane because if there was a problem it did not want me getting in the way of anyone else getting off and risking non-disabled people’s safety. In fact, in front of other people I was told that if the plane went down, I was not likely to make it off. I was clearly being told that my value as a disabled person did not exist. As disabled people, there are things that we know and do not need to be told, certainly not in front of other passengers. This happened when we were going off to compete in a major games.

Another airline sent me a form which asked me whether my impairment would cause offence to other passengers. When the airline then rang up to cancel my flight because it had decided my impairment was offensive—it told me that on the phone—I happened to have a TV crew at my house doing an interview about the competition I was trying to get to. That allowed me to get a full refund. The airline wanted to charge me for it cancelling my flight.

It is not just me. Wheelchair athlete Nikki Emerson said that when she flew to Australia for the Commonwealth Games airline staff told her she would “upset other passengers” by “climbing on the floor”. She had had to drag herself up the aisle after being told she would have to wait an hour to get to her seat from the toilet. I have also been refused access to toilets. I totally understand that the cabin crew cannot and should not assist inside the toilet, but because of the inaccessible nature of the cabin there should be a reasonable expectation of an aisle chair. The reality is that some airlines that run short-haul flights do not even have an aisle chair on board. Many might be surprised to know that “short haul” can include flights of up to four hours’ duration.

Victoria Brignell, who works at the BBC, was left on a plane at Gatwick for 90 minutes, and I despair of the number of times that Frank Gardner has posted about being abandoned. When I talk about train travel, I joke that I want the same miserable experience of commuting as everyone else, which I do not get, but I always hope for slightly better on planes. I know that Frank is not arguing for any special treatment, but if an airline cannot flag his name in the system and make sure that he gets on and off, given the amount he travels and his public profile, what hope is there for anyone else?

While airports and airlines call this unacceptable, change just does not happen. I commend Sophie Morgan on using her platform to highlight this issue using the hashtag #RightsOnFlights. Many are campaigning to ensure that disabled people who need to remain in their wheelchair, such as my noble friend Lady Campbell of Surbiton, are able to travel. I am really interested to see that some trials are now taking place that would stop people being discriminated against.

The reality is that we are always asked to be patient. We are treated as though it is the first time that it has ever happened when, quite frankly, it is not. Earlier this year I met the CAA, which was very helpful, but, sadly, I am now of the opinion that financial penalties are perhaps the only way things will change. It has gone on far too long and it is far too distressing for many disabled people. The time for excuses should now have passed, and I look forward to the Minister’s response to the questions asked by the noble Baroness, Lady Brinton.