Boarding Pass Amnesia: A Modern-Day Mystery

Significant numbers of intelligent people catch planes every day.

Some of the most sophisticated minds I know are frequent flyers. They’re brilliant at work, can disarm any executive team, and would leave you fumbling for words in a conversation.

But the moment they’re handed a boarding pass, something shifts. It’s like a switch flicks, and they develop what I can only describe as Memory Vacuum Disease (MVD) — a temporary but highly contagious condition where memory and reading skills vanish entirely.

I recently flew from Melbourne to Sydney and witnessed a full-blown outbreak. Perfectly healthy, capable passengers were suddenly overcome by MVD within minutes of receiving their boarding passes. It was hard not to be amused — and even harder not to get infected myself.

It starts subtly. Passenger A walks through the terminal like a normal person — talking, texting, sipping coffee. They approach the airline counter or self-serve kiosk, present ID, collect their boarding pass, and then… it hits. Suddenly, they can’t remember a single detail.

From that point on - Passenger A's memory recall and readings skills are lost. The requirement to read and re read their ticket becomes an absolute must. They can read their ticket and a minute later read it again. You ask them their seat number — “No idea, I’ll check my pass.” Ask for the flight number — “Hang on… I’ll check my pass.” The ticket becomes a permanent fixture in their hand, glued there like a toddler with a double scoop ice cream cone.

They make it to the gate. The airline staff calls out that rows 10 to 31 are boarding. Out comes the pass again. You’d think by now they’ve memorised at least their row number — but no. As they board, the flight attendant kindly repeats their seat number while scanning the pass. Passenger A nods, walks down the aisle, and yet still checks the seat numbers above each row against their ticket. When they finally arrive at their seat, they pause, look at their pass one last time, then turn to the person beside them: “Is this 21B?”

They sit down, but not with confidence -  prepared to move seats if told you are in the wrong seat. Which Passenger A would genuinely be ok with, as they doubted their reading and memory skills from the moment the ticket was given to them.

Now for those who avoided catching MVD straight away — don’t get too smug. Because then comes Passenger B.

Passenger B witnesses the compulsive ticket-checking behaviour of Passenger A. They start off strong — relaxed, in control. But after a few glances at Passenger A’s ticket rituals, something stirs. Doubt. Passenger B slowly reaches for their own boarding pass. Boom. Another one falls to the highly contagious disease.

MVD has an almost 100% strike rate. And there seems to be no known cure. It’s not fatal, but it’s a strong contender for one of society’s most contagious and inconvenient illnesses.

Whilst fortunate it only lasts the duration of the period from getting the pass to take off - it is severe and highly contagious.

Prevention tips include:

– Not flying (a bit drastic), or

– Handing your ticket to someone else (which makes you vulnerable to catching the disease second-hand)

Otherwise, like the rest of us, be aware of the symptoms, look after yourself, and take comfort in knowing you’re not alone. And most importantly — it will not last.