Behold the latest 'achievement' of our modern era: thirty-six million human beings have voluntarily agreed to be vacuum-sealed into pressurized metal tubes and hurled across the troposphere by the Cathay Group. According to the latest figures, which the corporate suits are brandishing like a holy relic, passenger numbers have surged by 27 per cent in 2025. It is a staggering testament to the boundless capacity for human boredom and the desperate need to be literally anywhere other than where one currently resides. We are told that 28.87 million of these souls opted for the 'premium' experience of the flagship carrier, while nearly eight million more chose the overt self-flagellation of HK Express. It’s a delightful choice, really—pay a premium to be ignored by a flight attendant with a forced, practiced smile, or pay slightly less to have your knees used as a structural component of the seat in front of you.

The Cathay Group calls this 'significant expansion.' I call it an optimized cattle drive. After years of the world being forced to sit in their own stagnant air at home, the floodgates have opened, and the result is a 26.5 per cent increase in people who believe that a change in geography will somehow fix the hollow vacancy of their internal lives. The budget arm, HK Express, saw an even steeper rise of nearly 30 per cent. This is the ultimate victory of the 'experience economy'—a euphemism for the mass delusion that spending four hours in a middle seat to take a grainy picture of a bowl of ramen in Osaka constitutes a meaningful existence. We have become a species of transients, perpetually fleeing our own reality in search of a 'destination' that looks exactly like the one we left, only with more expensive coffee and different-colored trash cans.

The political theater surrounding this 'recovery' is particularly stomach-turning. On one side, we have the pro-business acolytes of the Right, who view these numbers as a divine sign of 'economic vitality.' They ignore the fact that the 'market' they worship is essentially a collection of near-monopolies charging us for the basic dignity of legroom. They cheer for the growth because it justifies the continued existence of a corporate structure that prioritizes dividends over the sanity of its customers. On the other side, we have the performative Left, who will issue their predictable, wet-blanket scoldings about carbon footprints and environmental impact. They do this, of course, while simultaneously refreshing their browsers to find the cheapest 'off-the-beaten-path' flight to a 'sustainable' retreat in Bali. Both sides are equally nauseating. One wants to sell you the cage, and the other wants to lecture you while they’re sitting in the seat next to yours.

Let us look at the reality of these 36 million passengers. These are not explorers; they are statistics in a spreadsheet designed to appease shareholders. The 'tourist growth' cited by the company is simply a surge in the global population of the aimless. Hong Kong, a city that once prided itself on being a financial fortress, has transitioned into a glorified transit hub—a neon-lit waiting room where people stop to buy duty-free perfume they don’t need before being funneled into the next metal tube. The 27 per cent increase isn't a sign of a world getting back to normal; it’s a sign of a world doubling down on its most futile habits. We are moving faster and more frequently, yet we aren't actually going anywhere. We are just circulating like the recycled air in a Boeing cabin.

There is a profound irony in the distinction between Cathay’s 'premium' carrier and its 'budget' offspring. The premium carrier grew by 26.5 per cent, proving that if you give people a slightly nicer napkin and a lukewarm towel, they will pay a king’s ransom to pretend they aren't part of the huddled masses. Meanwhile, HK Express grew by 29.7 per cent, capturing the demographic that has realized the secret of the 21st century: we are all going to be miserable anyway, so we might as well do it for twenty dollars less. The gap between the classes is closing, not through the elevation of the poor, but through the universal degradation of the travel experience. Whether you’re in First Class or sitting on your suitcase in the aisle, the destination is the same: another airport, another line, another soul-crushing realization that the grass is just as brown on the other side of the Pacific.

As the Cathay Group eyes further 'expansion,' we can expect more of the same. More 'strategic growth,' more 'passenger handling,' and more 'network connectivity.' These are all just industry terms for finding new ways to monetize human restlessness. We are 36 million lemmings, and the cliff we are jumping off happens to have an in-flight entertainment system. So, congratulations to the Cathay Group for their 27 per cent increase. They haven't just recovered their business; they’ve successfully exploited the fact that humanity would rather be compressed into a cylinder and shot into the sky than spend one more minute looking in the mirror.