How Airline Checkouts Make You Pay More for The Same Seat

Two passengers, same flight, identical seats—yet they’ve paid completely different prices.

In Chapter 1 we saw how airlines compete to make you feel like you’re getting the best deal.

But take the cost to check-in a bag, as an example.

It's the same flight, the same airline, and yet you can pay more than the cost of the fare, to check in a single bag.

* An important distinction here is that the aggregators (Skyscanner, Google and Kayak) don't set the prices. I used the cheapest fare shown, and then the cost that the booking platform charged (e.g., Opodo, eDreams).

The real costs are buried in the checkout, where there is almost no transparency.

Now, when you consider three add-ons: selecting a seat, checking in a bag, and some ticket flexibility, look what happens compared to the "base fare":

This is just one example—I'm sure it depends on the airline and flight.

You might save £2 on the base fare, feel satisfied that you've got a deal, only to pay £60 more in an opaque checkout.

You may be forced to pay £10 in card fees, £2.90 to receive an SMS, or £6 to get booking confirmation in an email.

Let me show you how they do this.

Uncertainty is widespread in these checkouts.

Take Expedia, for example.

Click for details, and you’ll find a vague range—anywhere from £0 to £10.

But what does that mean for you? If you pay with a Visa, will you be charged?

I'm entering my card details, without knowing if I'll be charged an extra £10?

Or consider Booking, which will occasionally prompt you to upgrade your bundle with a pop-up.

The offer claims the higher fare includes “more flight extras”—but doesn’t specify what those extras are.

The new bundle is itemised, but not the old one, so there's no comparison.

And without comparison, there's no certainty.

When deciding between multiple bundles (or tiers), you're not only comparing the benefits of each option.

And this relies on a slightly different cognitive task. How do you know something isn't included?

It's why most people are more comfortable making a decision with Version B below.

If transparency is the goal, comparison tables are far more useful.

The user doesn't have to go through a process of cross-referencing, or noticing what's missing.

i.e., ways to give the illusion of a fair comparison.

For example, notice how the order changes slightly on Kayak.

For a moment, let your attention just sit on those 3 options.

Pan between them, and notice how much effort it takes to actually work out what the key differences are.

What does an extra £93 actually get you, between options 1 and 3?

Then when you're ready, compare that to my slightly modified version below.

Simply fixing the positions of the items reduces the 🧠 Cognitive Load.

I've also made them consistent.

You probably didn't even notice that of the 6 benefits listed in the original, they weren't identical.

Let's end on an example that perfectly sums up the messiness of booking airline tickets.

Often, these bundles will have tags like "best value".

Remember, on Hopper you can only open one plan at a time—but the tag is always visible.

This tag is a nudge to the consumer that this represents the best value for money. 

i.e., if you're only going to open one plan in more detail, let it be this one.

Perhaps there is a difference between the fares—it's just not displayed.

Either way, can you confidently make a decision? Or is this a tax on confusion.