In early July, Delta Airlines announced that it would begin offering a new category of fares for its Delta First, Delta Premium Select, and Delta One seat tiers. The Delta One option came with a name that felt like an oxymoron: “Basic Business.”
According to Delta’s press release on the move, these “Basic” ticket options allow customers access to some premium onboard experiences, but at a lower price point and with some trade-offs—like reduced checked bag allowance and lower mileage earned. Basic Business, for example, is described as an “entry-level tier for Delta One,” which essentially gives passengers the in-flight Delta One experience without access to Delta One check-in or the company’s swanky Delta One lounges.
Delta isn’t the first airline to experiment with the concept of a “basic” business tier. Earlier this year, United introduced a new “Base” fare for its top “Polaris” ticket that strips away several of the regular Polaris fare’s perks (like access to the Polaris lounge). As major airlines’ business models increasingly prioritize new premium offerings geared toward more affluent consumers, as well as emphasize added fees, they’re essentially driving profits by chopping the ticket-buying process into smaller and smaller chunks.
On social media, the reaction to Delta’s new fares has been swift, with commenters critiquing both the overall concept and the head-scratching Basic Business naming convention. For many travelers, the move is emphasizing how convoluted airline tier names have become.
According to multiple brand naming experts who spoke with Fast Company, there’s a reason that so many major airlines are making the same mistakes: They’re all playing a big game of telephone within one of the most risk-averse industries in the world, and it ultimately results in a lose-lose for everyone.
“If Delta could charge you for using the lavatory they would”
The most common reactions to Delta’s new Basic Business class have been confusion, skepticism, and frustration.
One post in the subreddit r/delta circulating the news has amassed more than 200 comments. The top comment reads, “Per usual nothing delta changes actually improves the experience for its patrons. They will segment business and first class by stripping some perks from it. Which I believe will also lead to a cascading effect of more segmenting of classes.” Another user responded to this sentiment, “If delta could charge you for using the lavatory they would.”
On LinkedIn, experts in the airline space are expressing similar concerns. Andrew Kunash, founder of the airline news company PNM Now, wrote, “Not excited about this one. Delta announcing basic business-class fares could mean we’ll soon pay more for what we already get with a standard Delta One ticket. Only time will tell.”
Alison Sider, an air travel reporter at The Wall Street Journal, added, “Delta is joining United in bringing some of the restrictions of its most barebones fares to the premium cabins. It says its new Basic Business is not an oxymoron—it’s a cheaper way into luxury for people who want in-flight comfort but don’t need all the bells and whistles. But is it just another upsell?”
In a statement to Fast Company, a Delta spokesperson said the name Basic Business is meant to prevent confusion, not create it, noting, “We want customers to understand exactly what they’re purchasing. If the name ‘Delta One’ is in the fare, customers reasonably expect the full Delta One experience. ‘Basic Business’ is clearer about what’s included and what isn’t.”
Still, brand experts say this naming emphasizes everything that’s currently wrong with air travel.
Why does every airline seat tier sound the same?
Across nearly all the top U.S. airlines, tier naming conventions are strikingly similar: Basic, Economy, First Class, Business, Preferred, and Premium are some of the most frequently repeated descriptors. The problem is, as airlines increasingly slice and dice their seating options into more niche categories that use some combination of these words, they start to feel vague.
For customers, this means that seat tiers no longer serve their key wayfinding purpose. For brands, sticking with these conventions means missing a major creative opportunity.
Philip Davies is the EMEA President at Siegel+Gale, a brand strategy agency that’s worked with airlines on their design, positioning, and customer experience approaches. For a process like introducing a new fare name, he says, the idea generation process is often fairly quick—it’s narrowing down the playing field that can be time-consuming. It requires a massive number of checks, including customer testing, trademark clearance, linguistic checks across global markets, leadership approval, and ensuring the name works as part of a portfolio that may evolve over many years.
“Air travel is an inherently international category, so airlines naturally gravitate towards words that are immediately understood across cultures. Everyone knows what First, Economy, or Premium implies,” Davies says. “The downside is that everyone ends up shopping in the same linguistic shop. Basic, Economy, Plus, Premium, Comfort, Select, First. There are only so many universally understood words available.”
David Placek, founder of the brand naming agency Lexicon, argues that while these default options might seem safer to a risk-averse industry, they’re not necessarily better from a brand standpoint.
“I think the emphasis is, ‘Let’s describe this as what it is,’ so it becomes Economy seating, Basic seating, things like that, as opposed to, ‘What experience do we want to communicate here?’” he says. “Let’s take Economy seating: Most airlines have done a pretty good job. The seats are comfortable, you’re safe, there’s a desk. So why do you call it Economy when it could be Comfort Class or something like that?”
Rose Linke, chief creative officer at the brand naming agency A Hundred Monkeys, adds, “It’s like how people always say ‘good, better, best’ for three tiers. But it’s funny that the ‘good’ tier is not being communicated as good at all.”
Therein lies the major problem with a name like “Basic Business,” Davies says: In an attempt to keep naming consistent and avoid diluting its Delta One brand, Delta’s language is inadvertently alienating its customers.
“The challenge with Basic Business is that it contains contradiction. Business says: ‘You’ve arrived.’ Basic says: ‘Please manage your expectations.’ Put together, it creates an awkward emotional equation,” Davies says, adding, “Of course, from an airline’s internal perspective, the logic is perfectly understandable. It is the entry point into the business-class category. But customers don’t experience the internal logic of a fare architecture; they experience the language. And language has a habit of revealing things companies sometimes prefer to keep hidden.”
Can flying be fun again?
Davies, Placek, and Linke agree that, broadly speaking, airlines’ seat naming conventions simply aren’t working as they should. And they all suggest a similar solution: taking a bit of a risk.
“I think the real competitive advantage for an airline in terms of naming that Basic Business tier would be something that is more expressive, that has a little more status,” Placek says. “It shouldn’t overdo it, because my guess is that the seat is probably a little bit bigger and maybe a little bit wider, so don’t oversell it, but make me feel good that, ‘Hey, I deserve this. My company’s doing well. I’m traveling to London and I don’t want to be in Economy.’”
There are a few airlines that have opted for strategies along these lines. Alaska Airlines, Linke notes, calls its lowest fare tier “Saver,” which, she says, “at least gives a connotation of the benefit of ‘this is going to save you money.’” Ben Weis, director of strategy at A Hundred Monkeys, points to British Airways, which uses “Euro Traveller” for its more affordable short-haul flights and “World Traveller” for long-haul trips, as another positive example.
For Davies, Virgin Atlantic and Qatar Airways are two strong contenders: “‘Upper Class’ is unmistakably Virgin: confident, playful and slightly irreverent,” Davies says. “Qatar Airways offers another interesting lesson. Its ‘Qsuite’ name works because it doesn’t simply describe a position in a hierarchy; it creates a distinctive idea. It suggests privacy, space, and a different kind of experience. It doesn’t need to tell customers it is premium, it allows the experience to do that work.”
The best brand names are descriptive and ownable. As air travel becomes more complicated, airlines could use tier naming conventions as one way to preserve individual brand identity. But most are opting to play it safe instead.
“My main thought here is how unaware airlines seem to be about making the experience cheap and worse,” Weis says. “They should be doing everything they can to hold on to a shred of ‘Flying is fun.’”