When I was a kid I wanted to be either a lion tamer or a Qantas pilot. Back then it was a no brainer as to which of those offered greater job security.

For an aviation fanatic such as myself, the pinnacle of piloting jobs (after Chuck Yeager’s mission to break the sound barrier) was always that of a Qantas captain – seeing the world while being well paid to play with your favourite toys. (I didn’t much like the cap but it comes in handy if you end up at Aeroflot and have to do a whip round among the passengers to get the cash together to buy spare parts.)

With my Qantas dream in mind I put myself through flying school, working six days a week to afford one airborne hour on the seventh day. I hesitate to make it sound like The Creation because that was surely less expensive. And He had a rest day.

I didn’t.

I cleaned windows, I sold blenders, I washed dishes, I sorted mail – though I was looking for the outer edge of a different kind of envelope. Each time I left the ground in my single-engine trainer, I hoped that one day I would sit in the left hand seat of a Qantas cockpit and authoritatively announce: “Ladies and Gentlemen, the blonde hostess is mine.” Or however it goes. When you listen to it as a passenger too many times you tune out.

Along the way to that Qantas cockpit I was hijacked by the adrenaline of aerobatics. Spinning was much more exciting than straight and level; stall turns more exhilarating than slow descents. Flying became a pastime rather than a profession, and when I wrote about that pastime I discovered something I loved more.

Despite my diversion, I have always thought that being a Qantas captain was the top job in aviation. So imagine my surprise a couple of months ago when, during my search for a participant for the My Career section of CareerOne, where, each week, The Cairns Post profiles a vocation, I had a Qantas captain turn me down on the grounds (as it were) that he no longer felt working for Qantas was a profession he’d recommend.

From Santa Claus to Coco Pops, many things in life lose their gloss as you grow older. Adding my childhood dream to that list rammed home just how much has changed at the flying kangaroo.  

It’s ironic that Qantas pilots have spent their lives connecting Australia to the world. Now that world is too connected. Nothing is remote other than the logic to the argument that with its current cost base the international arm, or wing rather, of Qantas can compete with the cashed-up competition.

Aviation has driven globalisation. Now globalisation is driving aviation.

The argument against Qantas’ plans to offshore jobs is for sentimentalists rather than shareholders. Put Nostalgia and Market Forces in the boxing ring together and see which one gets the bloody nose. I’m a sentimental old fool. I’d be towelling down Nostalgia and rinsing its mouth guard but I’d lose the fight and have to fly home from Vegas with another airline because mine would no longer exist.
 
It’s disheartening to think that the reason Qantas can’t compete in today’s international skies is due to the money it has to pay those people who have kept it in those skies.

I’ve been hopping between Europe and Australia for over a decade. Qantas has been my choice (and recommendation to others!) because my childhood idols are at the controls. I believe the flying kangaroo’s handlers are the best in the world and that less talented airmen wouldn’t have been able to nurse the stricken QF32 to the ground. No fewer than 52 alarms were ringing when one of the A380’s engines caught fire over Indonesia. An equal number of alarm bells should be ringing for those who think such pilots are replaceable.

Qantas offshoring jobs is different from, say, Telstra offshoring jobs because Australians feel a bond of co-citizenship with their national carrier, a bond that is currently being put to the test despite the 100,000 apology ticket giveaway.

The spirit of Australia is strong overseas, both as a brand and an emotion. Perhaps you need to have lived on foreign shores for a long time to feel as much affection for your national carrier as I do.    

At the risk of breaking into a few bars of Peter Allen, on many occasions, in both American and European airports, I’ve glimpsed the iconic red and white tail of a flying kangaroo being prepped for the marathon hop south. Even if I’m not going with it, especially if I’m not going with it, in that moment, far from home, I feel as though I’ve glimpsed Australia.

And if I am going with it I feel as though I’m home even before we leave the ground, thanks to the accents of the crew, the informality of the service (for better or worse) and the green and gold array of Wallabies jerseys. ‘G’day’ replaces ‘Good Evening’. And then shortly after takeoff the captain gets on the blower and authoritatively announces: “Ladies and gentlemen, the blonde hostess is mine.” Or however it goes.

Qantas management underestimates sentimental old fools. Despite modern businesses stopping at nothing to automate and offshore, I fearlessly predict the emergence of a retro rationale in future boardrooms. In fact I’m delighted to say it’s happening already.

Last weekend, before heading off to the airport, I needed to check the arrival time of a friend’s Virgin Australia flight into Cairns. Being old school I rang the airline and when a human being answered – yes, a human being! – I assumed I’d dialled the wrong number.

“Oh, sorry,” I said, taking the unusual tack of apologising. “I meant to press the option for flight arrivals and departures.”

“You did.”

The clock on my kitchen wall wound itself back to when I was a kid, to a time when being a Qantas pilot was a profession you’d recommend. Despite the economic realities of the need to offshore, as a sentimentalist I hope that time will come again and that in the near future you’ll see a Qantas captain in the My Career section of CareerOne.

Though I’m not holding my breath on Qantas management and staff finding common ground anytime soon.

Might take a lion tamer to sort them out.

 

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