I HAVE found a place for society's weakest and most loathsome people.
It is well documented that, in the event of a crisis, the emergency exits in aircraft become clogged with piles of frenzied passengers. And at the bottoms of these piles, beneath hunks of metal dutifully disengaged from the hull, are the people who were allocated exit-row seats.
I am calling on airlines to use a system of profiling, and give these seats only to people most suited to perishing beneath the feet of others.
Darwin would agree with the concept.
Better a fishmonger, or sickness beneficiary, to languish beneath these crushing heaps, than a self-made millionaire businessman. Our national airline, for all its cultural hang-ups, can surely grasp this.
It is said there was a round of applause as Sir Bob Jones was escorted off an Air New Zealand flight this week, for refusing to listen to a safety briefing.
The incident unfolded after Sir Bob, seated in an exit row, refused to say "yes" when asked if he could open the exit in an emergency.
I praise the property tycoon, who clearly understands the dynamics of an evacuation, and realises he is unfit for sacrifice.
What makes me ropeable is the fact people had the nerve to applaud during his ejection from the plane. I don't know who instigated the clapping, and can only assume it was an isolated group of women and children.
It represents just the kind of herd mentality I've come to detest in this country, and which, in my mind, should be stamped out like an invalid beneath an exit door.
Apparently, as the whole misunderstanding unfolded, the pilot told those on board that BJ had disobeyed instructions, and it didn't matter "how important" he was.
Ah. So flyboy shows his true colours.
I have long disdained pilots. I trust neither their wearing of hats indoors, nor their aversion to talking about anything outside the weather.
I also don't enjoy having to gauge a man's emotional stability via a loudspeaker on a regular basis.
But the most disturbing thing about airline staff, aside from their declining standards of dress, is their blatant disregard for terrestrial law.
These space cowboys, these sky vigilantes, have gone quite unchecked in seizing dictatorial control of the stratosphere. I find the concept of "airspace" about as dubious as a Korean Steakhouse.
I also rue the day stewardesses became attendants, and leggy blondes with free cocktails were replaced with steely-faced safety police.
Health and safety has seen a meteoric rise of late, along with political correctness - perhaps because the two terms are interchangeable.
Suffice it to say, I loathe all rules and regulations.
I would sooner be caught dead than wearing a lifejacket. And I believe our basest liberties are at stake when the Government tries to swaddle us all in a giant, soiled nappy.
Yes, like Sir Bob Jones, I believe utterly in the personal freedom of all - and I mean, all - wealthy men.
-Harrison Christian is a Hawke's Bay Today reporter.-Eva Bradley is on leave.