Do We Need to Reconsider Our Flying Guilt?

While working on a research paper on climate adaptation in tourism, I had an eye-opening consultation with a Kerala-based social enterprise.
Over a decade of working in local villages, they developed a strong community tourism model that embeds tourism into the existing agrarian routine of farmers, and allows travellers to authentically engage with the community. Since inception, their primary audience has been conscious travellers from Europe, seeking slow travel and meaningful experiences that bring economic and social prosperity to regions of Kerala off the typical tourist trail.
Flying guilt – or flygskam – though, has had unintended consequences. The same conscious travellers, ridden by flying guilt in recent years, have repeatedly cancelled their trips to the region. Their decision to pursue lower footprint travel that doesn’t involve flying has directly impacted community tourism in these parts of Kerala, where tourism revenue beautifully supplemented increasingly unpredictable agricultural incomes.
As someone who often finds herself struck by flying guilt, I’m learning that the idea of flying – or not flying – is a lot more complex.
Also read: What You Should Know About Sustainable Aviation and the Impact of Flying
What is flygskam anyway, and how did it start?
Flygskam, a Swedish term that translates to flying shame or flying guilt, acknowledges the environmental impact of flying. It refers to the increasingly common feelings of shame or guilt while taking a flight.
It started as a social movement in Sweden, led by climate activist Greta Thunberg, and quickly became a worldwide flight shaming movement. The goal is to encourage people to think about their flying footprint, and reduce it as much as possible.
Also read: Is it Possible to Fly Responsibly?
Is Flying Guilt Productive?
When I first wrapped my head around my personal flying footprint, I thought this guilt will keep me in check – and it does. Instead of jumping on cheap airfares or impulse flight buying, I now think long and hard about the impact of every flight I take.
I ask myself questions like: Is it really worth flying there? Can I use an alternate mode of transport – like a bus or train – if my budget and time allow it? Can I stay longer to make the most of flying there? Can I ensure that the money I spend socially benefits local communities and supports environmental conservation? Can I tell impactful stories that further inspire responsible travel?
On the one hand, flying guilt can push us to examine our travel choices by choosing land-based travel over short flights, and slowing down in places rather than destination hopping on cheap flights. As with any choices, an individual choosing one flight less may not matter much, but when that action is taken by many individuals, it can have collective impact. The hope is that short distance flights will eventually be entirely replaced by efficient and affordable land transport everywhere!
On the other hand however, flying guilt can have an adverse impact on local communities and conservation efforts. Here’s why:
Tourism is linked to vital wildlife conservation efforts
Even though tourism has had adverse impacts on local ecologies around the world, wildlife conservation models around the world are often linked to tourism.
In Uganda for instance, I was surprised to learn that Bwindi National Park is home to lucrative gold deposits, but the forests and mountain gorillas retain their habitat only because gorilla tourism yields more money. Gorilla permits cost a whopping 800$ per person!
In India too, national parks across Madhya Pradesh, Maharashtra and Karnataka remain protected not for the majestic tigers but the tourism revenue linked to them.
When travellers abandon places out of flying guilt, the consequences have to be borne by natural habitats, forests, wild species and the people whose livelihoods are linked to them. That’s the reality of the capitalist world we’ve built.
Also read: I Measured My Flying Footprint in 2022, and This is What I Learnt
Some island nations depend entirely on tourism – and flying!
The greatest pushback against the flying shame movement comes from Small Island Developing States (SIDS), which includes islands like the Maldives, Mauritius and Seychelles, whose economies are heavily reliant on tourism. The only way for travellers to reach them is by long distance flying.
These island nations have a considerably low footprint, yet they are the most vulnerable to climate change impacts like sea level rise and extreme weather events. What happens if we stop flying to these islands for tourism altogether? Their economies, local livelihoods, ocean conservation initiatives, everything is at stake.
One can argue that tourism leakage is rampant in their island tourism models. A large proportion of the tourism money spent on these islands actually doesn’t remain on the island – channeled out through foreign investors who have set up accommodations and tourism services on the island. Even so, tourism still tends to account for the majority of local employment and pays local taxes.
Also read: Everything You Need to Know About Community-Based Tourism
Sustainable aviation remains a distant dream
The Airbus Summit I recently attended in France came as a reality check that we are FAR from achieving global sustainable aviation goals. SAF (sustainable aviation fuel) is projected to contribute only 4-5% of total jet fuel consumption by 2030, which will likely be offset by air travel growth. Electric and hydrogen powered planes – though promising – are still in their initial R&D phase, with much to be done to get the entire ecosystem technologically and financially ready for take off.
That means air travel shaming – and the decisions born out of it – are not short term. They are likely to have long term consequences.
Also read: The Epic Land Journey from Thailand to India via Myanmar
What can be more productive than flying guilt?
My partner and I are currently on a slow land journey through East Africa. We’ve taken long buses, boda bodas (motorycle taxis), cabs and have a train on the agenda.
Although we each had to fly in to Kigali, we’re spending the duration of our East Africa visa (3 months) in the region. We’re travelling overland across Rwanda, Uganda and Kenya. We’re actively seeking out community tourism enterprises, eco-lodges, conscious budget stays, RE startups and conservation initiatives. We’ve had long chats with social entrepreneurs and grassroots environmental leaders, exchanging knowledge and ideas.
The thing about flying guilt is that it only addresses one part of a large intersecting spectrum. Here are some approaches that can be more productive:
Enabling just transition in tourism
Work towards just transition in the energy sector has gained momentum over the years. It means achieving the energy transition and moving to a low carbon future, while protecting local livelihoods.
The idea applies just as much to other sectors. In my Master’s program, I did research around the possibility of a just transition in fashion, enabling local communities to switch from growing water-intensive, chemical-laden cotton to organic and regenerative cotton.
In tourism too, we need to start working towards just transition within the sector. Tourism currently accounts for 1 in 10 formal jobs worldwide, and many more informally. Can our economies be redesigned to create alternate livelihoods, that don’t rely on the long distance movement of people for leisure, business and other purposes? What can take the place of protecting living cultures and enabling deep cultural exchange?
Also read: The Swiss Alps on an E-bike: 385 Km, 7 Alpine Passes, 6 Days!
Thinking about Return on Emissions (ROE)
Conde Nast Traveler’s Sustainability Editor Juliet Kinsman often uses the term ROE (Return on Emissions) to think about the impact of her flights. The direct carbon emissions is one aspect, but ROE also considers what impact we’ve had while in the place – from where we’ve spent our money, to decisions we’ve impacted, to stories we’ve told.
I know it sounds like a cop-out at first glimpse (much like carbon offsets leading to carbon neutral travel), but given the interconnected nature of the travel ecosystem, it has value. Flying guilt, or refusing to fly, addresses the carbon footprint of flying, which is great. But when viewed in isolation, it can also have negative consequences for places and people who rely economically, socially and environmentally on tourism. Sometimes this can have a higher footprint than not taking those flights in the first place!
Also read: How Croatia Compelled Me to Rethink Travel Blogging
Rethinking flying guilt from the lens of climate justice
It seems far-fetched, but sustainable aviation is also a climate justice issue. The privilege to travel continues to rest with countries and individuals historically responsible for the greatest climate emissions.
The growing middle class across the Global South, which is expected to contribute the most to aviation growth in the coming years, is full of first-time flyers. People who have never before had the income or privilege to fly can finally travel. Should flying guilt apply to them, who have contributed virtually nothing to the climate crisis we find ourselves in? What about younger generations around the world?
Of course there are those who travel for reasons other than pure leisure – students, people going to see their families and loved ones, work, research, medical reasons, etc. A climate justice lens can allow us to view flying as part of a whole.
Also read: An Open Letter to Indian Parents: Let Your “Kids” Travel
Advocating for policies to accelerate sustainable aviation
Given how far we are from achieving sustainable aviation goals, we must take a long and hard look at what is really needed to accelerate the transition. So far, whatever progress we’ve made is driven by voluntary efforts – a handful of companies and airlines making sustainable strides driven by financial or anticipated regulatory measures.
What we need is for the entire sector, including all airlines, airports and flying infrastructure, to be compelled to take sustainability action. We need strong global regulations, government support, financial structures and technological prowess to propel the sector forward. Even though airlines are making record profits, they aren’t going to part with that money to fund sustainability goals unless they’re left with no choice.
As individuals, we can play a role by making this an election issue, alongside other pressing climate action needs.
A journalist recently reached out to me to comment on the trend of extreme day trips. Apparently, people are now flying to a new country just for a day, to tick it off their bucket lists! Flying guilt can certainly help us refrain from such pointless pursuits. But in the bigger picture, looking beyond flying guilt can help us break away from the tunnel vision and consider our return on emissions instead.
What’s your approach to air travel? Do you think flying shame is productive?
*Note: I was invited to the Airbus Summit 2025 as part of a group of international journalists and creators. As you know, opinions on this blog are always mine.
Welcome to my blog, The Shooting Star. I’ve been called a storyteller, writer, photographer, digital nomad, “sustainability influencer,” social entrepreneur, solo traveller, vegan, sustainable tourism consultant and environmentalist. But in my heart, I’m just a girl who believes that travel – if done right – has the power to change us and the world we live in.
Flying guilt definitely should be encouraged. I know of many wealthy people of my generation who travel constantly, indulging themselves in a dozen ‘holidays’ a year. This is pure consumerism and I can’t see any upside to it , no matter how many people’s livelihood is now dependent on tourism. People in remote locations managed to live before tourism and they can learn to do so again. While I do love the sheer wonder of travel and the beauty of meeting people different from ourselves, I think it is equally important to give of yourself to the place you live and the people you live with. In a post on my blog some years ago, I mentioned that travel is broadening, but also shallowing 👇🏽
https://thelongview2016.wordpress.com/2017/11/17/travel-bugged/
This is such an important and nuanced discussion. As someone who works closely with local communities, I’ve seen firsthand how tourism – especially the kind that emphasizes slow travel and authentic cultural exchange – can truly uplift regions that are otherwise economically fragile. Flying guilt is understandable, but it’s also critical that we think about its broader ripple effects. I recently shared some reflections on responsible digital tools and sustainable tourism over at calculettedemauricette.fr – would love to hear your thoughts!
It’s so easy to get caught up in the immediate feeling of shame, but you’ve done a brilliant job of highlighting the complexities and unintended consequences of flygskam, especially regarding its impact on communities and conservation efforts.
I particularly resonated with your discussion on rethinking the guilt by considering concepts like Return on Emissions and the importance of climate justice. It shifts the focus from individual shame to more systemic solutions and thoughtful travel choices. This article definitely gives me a lot to ponder on my next trip, advocating for policies to accelerate sustainable aviation rather than just feeling guilty.
Flying guilt is that strange feeling we get when we know air travel adds to pollution, but we still love the idea of seeing the world. It’s like being torn between adventure and responsibility. We want to explore new places, meet new people, and experience life, but then there’s that voice in the back of our head whispering about carbon footprints. It’s real, and it’s okay to feel it. What matters is how we respond. Maybe we fly less, or offset our travel, or choose eco-friendly options when we can. It’s not about guilt—it’s about balance. Small conscious choices can still lead to big, beautiful journeys.
This article raises an important and nuanced question. While it’s crucial to acknowledge aviation’s environmental impact, it’s also worth considering broader systemic changes—like cleaner fuel technologies, carbon offset programs, and policy reforms—rather than putting the full burden on individual travelers. That said, mindful flying (choosing direct routes, combining trips, or opting for alternatives when practical) still matters. It’s not about eliminating travel, but about making more conscious choices.
Absolutely! It’s encouraging to see more people aware of their carbon footprint—reconsidering flying guilt opens the door to sustainable travel innovations.. aws-data-engineer-training