As I settled in for the 17-hour flight from Australia to the United States, I turned to the vacant seat between my wife and me and smiled. While other passengers might have thought it was a stroke of luck, they didn’t know this was deliberate. It was the result of my seat selection obsession.
The ritual starts the moment I book a flight: I check legroom measurements and read seat reviews, then study the airline’s seat map to predict which seats will stay open. There are rules: I go for an aisle seat on the right side of the aircraft, and on wide-body planes with a 3-3-3 configuration, I pick one in the middle section.
Even after I’ve locked in my seat, I can’t stop. In the days leading up to departure, I’m refreshing the “Manage My Booking” page, monitoring which seats fill up, debating whether to switch to 12D or stick with 11D.
Turns out, plenty of travelers have their own versions of this routine. Some travelers insist on the same side of the plane every time. Others will only sit in odd-numbered rows. A few refresh seat maps obsessively, fixated on bathroom proximity or meal service order.
Performance psychology specialist Sam Wones said this quirk runs deeper than seat preference. “It reflects a need for control in environments where individuals feel they lack it,” he explained. “Ritualistic actions like seat-map checking can reduce anxiety about the unknown.”
When everything about air travel feels chaotic, securing a specific seat sends a signal to your nervous system that something is manageable.
These rituals can be remarkably specific. Georgia Hopkins, a freelance travel writer, only sits in odd-numbered rows: 11A ideally, or 13A/15A if that’s taken. Rows 12 or 14 simply don’t exist in her world. “I can’t do even numbers. If not 11, I have to sit in an odd-numbered row,” she said. She also insists on a window seat as far forward as possible, so she boards earlier, exits faster and is served first.
Row 25. Always row 25. Amanda Kendle is so committed to this specific row that she will not change it, even if a better option opens up. Not because it has extra legroom or is closer to the exit, but because it is her lucky number.
“Some part of my anxious flyer mentality tells me if I change my seat, the plane will crash and my original seat would have been safer,” she explained. When traveling with her teenage daughter, who insists on a window seat, Kendle still claims row 25; she just takes the middle instead of the aisle. Her flexibility still operates within strict boundaries.
wera Rodsawang via Getty Images
These rituals feel personal, even irrational. Chris Lipp, a social psychologist at Tulane University who studies power dynamics, said they expose how confident we feel in public spaces.
“People who feel more powerful are less sensitive to sitting next to someone,” Lipp explained. “They’re comfortable with less interpersonal space, less worried about others encroaching on their space, and less vigilant because they don’t feel threatened by others.”
The dreaded middle seat, which most people avoid, illustrates this power dynamic. Lipp notes that powerful people can tolerate it. They will claim both armrests without hesitation, exuding a confidence that likely extends beyond the cabin. Anxious travelers either guard the armrest like a border wall or avoid it completely to prevent any contact.
Seat location also reflects travelers’ approach to control and efficiency, Wones says. Front-of-plane passengers want to disembark quickly and avoid feeling trapped, valuing efficiency and a faster process. Back-of-plane flyers operate differently. They’re more relaxed about waiting, less concerned with being first off the aircraft and often actively avoid the chaos of the front rows. Neither preference is inherently better, but they reflect different tolerances for waiting.
Beyond front vs. back, another choice reveals personality: window or aisle. Wones said introverts gravitate toward window seats for privacy and control, while extroverts prefer aisle seats for mobility and easier interaction.
Lisa Burns, founder of The Travel Photography Club, understands this completely. On a flight from Tokyo to Helsinki over the Arctic Circle, she ended up in an aisle seat with the window passenger asleep, shutter closed. “All I could imagine were icebergs and glaciers below,” she said. “I had to practice deep breathing because it took so much self-control not to lean across and look out the window.” For a travel photographer, being trapped on the aisle meant missing exactly what she needed to see.
I’m firmly in the aisle camp, though my reasons are less about interaction and more about autonomy. I can move whenever I want without performing a gymnastics routine to climb over a sleeping passenger or getting the side-eye when I’m up and down for the third time in an hour. On a long flight, this freedom matters. Maybe it makes me someone who needs to feel in charge of something, even if it’s just bathroom breaks. Or perhaps I just drink too much water.
My right-side preference has a practical foundation. Analysis of Air Canada and American Airlines seat data shows passengers disproportionately choose the left side, which means the right side offers better odds of an empty seat beside me.
Wones said that once you unconsciously favor one side, your brain locks onto it. “Some people unconsciously favor one side due to how their brain processes spatial awareness or comfort,” he explained. Maybe it felt slightly better once, or you had a good flight on that side. The reason doesn’t matter. Once the pattern exists, you stick with it, even when both sides are identical. It becomes less about logic and more about what feels right.
If you’re reading this thinking, who obsesses over seats?, that reaction itself reveals something, according to Wones. Strategic planners are highly conscientious and prefer control. Acceptors are more adaptable, with lower anxiety and a higher tolerance for uncertainty.
When my wife catches me refreshing the seat map days before a flight, she thinks I’m ridiculous. She’s probably right. But 17 hours squeezed into economy with an empty seat next to us? That’s when ridiculous becomes genius.