Tag, You're It United

David J. Danto

Travel thoughts in my own, personal opinion

eMail: ddanto@IMCCA.org Follow Industry News: @NJDavidD on

Tag, You’re it, United – February 2026

There is a certain poetry in United’s old tagline “Fly the friendly skies.” It calls back to a long-gone sense of warmth, care, maybe even a bit of pampering for those of us who have spent more time in seat 4A than on our own couch. Lately though, I find myself wondering how far what is left of those “friendly skies” actually extends. Do they start at check-in? At the escalator? At the point where the airline stops doing things for you and starts quietly handing you the work?

That question hit me squarely in the face at Newark recently, in what used to be one of the last remaining tiny joys of United Premier status – the Premier bag drop shortcut.

For years, as a Premier Gold and million-miler, the routine was simple and civilized. If I had to check a bag I already entered on line at check-in, I would walk up to the Premier bag drop, show an ID or scan a boarding pass, and the agent would do the rest. They printed the tags, wrapped them around the handle, slapped on the bright orange “priority” marker, handed me my receipts, and sent me on my way. It took maybe sixty seconds. It felt like a perk. It felt, dare I say, friendly.

Then one day, Brigadoon vanished.

If you fly out of Newark, you know the scene. There is allegedly a Premier bag drop, but its existence now feels conditional upon the phase of the moon and which employee you ask. It might be where it always was. Or it might have migrated to the other side of the third floor. Or down to the second floor. Or outside. Pick a door, any door. The only constant is confusion.

On my most recent trip, the shortcut seemed to have disappeared entirely. The counter was there, of course, but there were no agents – just a deserted island of unused stanchions and idle kiosks. The guidance was clear and yet maddening: even as a Premier flyer (unless I’m Global Services or 1K), I now needed to go to a kiosk, print my own bag tags, and then join the Premier line with my nicely printed stickers in hand. In other words, perform the exact same set of tasks that non-elite flyers have been doing for years, just with a queue that has a fancier sign at the beginning.

Now, if you have not experienced Newark’s Premier line, imagine a theme park that decided the real VIP experience was standing in a separate, equally long line with slightly more navy-blue signage politely reminding you how important you are – while treating you as if you are not. Newark is a hub for United, so it often feels like half the airport has some shade of Premier status. There is literally an entire floor for us. The “shortcut” now means visiting a kiosk, doing the tagging work myself, and then waiting again with hundreds of other “priority” passengers so an agent can briefly acknowledge my existence and take the bag.

On this particular morning, I decided to split the difference. I used the kiosk to print the tags – playing along with the new rules – but I did not attach them to the bags. I knew the bags needed priority tags added anyway, and somewhere in the back of my loyal, slightly grumpy brain I still believed that applying the actual tag to the actual bag was part of the job description for the human beings behind the Premier counter.

The agent behind that counter disagreed… vehemently.

What followed was a surreal little shouting match over who, exactly, was responsible for looping a piece of sticky paper through a handle. The agent was adamant that I had to do it myself. Only after I applied the tags would they condescend to take my bag and add the priority tag. The tone was less “let’s work together” and more “you put your own damn tags on your bag, or we’ll be standing here all day.”

I am not proud of how annoyed I was. Intellectually, I know that physically putting a tag on a bag is not a heavy lift. I am perfectly capable of peeling a sticker and threading it through a handle. But that is not really the point.

The point is that this used to be a service provided to loyal customers as part of the experience. It has quietly disappeared – at least at Newark – with no explanation, and was replaced with a system that inserts extra steps and extra lines into a process that was already stressful. It is not self-service as a convenience. It feels like self-service as cost-cutting, repackaged for the people who supposedly matter most to the airline.

We live in a world where self-service has become the norm. I use mobile boarding passes. I scan my own luggage tags at other airports. I have no problem rebooking myself via an app. Sometimes these tools genuinely make travel easier and more efficient. When self-service removes friction, it feels empowering.

What happened at Newark felt different. Here, self-service did not replace a line – it added one. I now stand in line for the kiosk, perform the tagging task myself, then stand in an even longer Premier line so a tired agent can wave me forward, glance at my ID, and take the bag I have already fully processed. The only thing they add is a small priority marker that, most of the time, is more psychological than practical…and accomplishes nothing.

So here is where I genuinely do not know if I am the problem.

On one hand, am I just being lazy? Am I clinging to some outdated notion of “service” in an era where everyone taps, scans, and tags their way through travel? Is my indignation simply the grumbling of a digital immigrant who remembers when elite status meant the airline did a little more for you than the bare minimum?

On the other hand, at what point does “self-service” become “do our jobs for us”? If airlines are going to consolidate staffing, automate interactions, and push more of the process onto passengers, shouldn’t they at least be transparent about it? Should they reset the expectations and benefits they dangle in front of their most loyal flyers? If the Premier experience now starts with “please do all the tagging yourself,” is a separate entrance to an equally long line – to do the same tasks as non-elite flyers – really a perk at all?

United’s “friendly skies” haven’t been particularly friendly for decades. On the ground at Newark, they have just found a new way to make them feel even less so. The magical Premier bag drop appears and disappears like Brigadoon, and the time once saved by a real shortcut now gets burned in front of kiosks and in longer lines. Somewhere in the middle of all that, the definition of “Premier” quietly shifted without anyone saying it out loud. At check-in it now feels like a hollow label – much like the Premier bag tags themselves, which are more about stroking a traveler’s ego than delivering any real, meaningful benefit.

I walked away from that counter still wondering if my reaction was fair. Maybe tagging my own bags should just be another part of modern travel, like taking out anything metal at security or pretending the boarding process is orderly. Or maybe it is one more small sign that airlines have grown a little too comfortable asking passengers – even their most loyal ones – to do the work while still calling it hospitality.

I honestly do not know which it is. I just know that the next time I head to Newark, I will be looking for that elusive Premier bag drop again, hoping that for at least one morning Brigadoon decides to reappear and Premier status feels like an actual perk again, not just a hollow label on a boarding pass and a colored tag on a handle. I will, however, be heading to the airport earlier than I used to so I can budget time for the new, extra line – and I will no longer take the 6 am flights that leave you waiting in a huge queue for a counter that has not even opened yet.

After decades of candid travel commentary – from loyalty program “magic tricks” to hotel check-in roulette – I’ve decided to turn some of that honesty into apparel. These aren’t novelty shirts; they’re the exact truths every road warrior wishes they could say out loud. Whether you’re quietly muttering “My loyalty points devalued while you read this shirt” or admitting “If delays build character then I’m the whole movie’s cast” you’ll find plenty of familiar sentiments… and more. Everything is produced by a reputable outfit, with black tees that work under a sport jacket plus hoodies and wicking travel gear for life on the road. The site also has my honest and snarky takes on technology trade shows. Take a look at Tinyurl.com/TechAndTravelWear. Even if you’re not buying they’re fun to read and commiserate – and if you do buy something, maybe I’ll break even. If you want a style you don’t see, just email me and I’ll add it.

This article was written by David Danto and contains solely his own, personal opinions.

All image and links provided above as reference under prevailing fair use statutes.

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As always, feel free to write and comment, question or disagree. Hearing from the traveling community is always a highlight for me. Thanks!