I recently took a five-hour direct flight from Los Angeles to New York during which I did not listen to music, read a book or watch any movies.
If this sounds somewhat inconceivable, that’s because it is. But such abstention from entertainment and other stimulations while traveling is the latest Patrick Bateman-esque trend to stir up the internet.
“Raw-dogging” is the practice of taking a flight without any entertainment at all (at least in this instance). No music, no movies, no literature, no nothing. Just you, your thoughts, and the flight-tracker map. I’m sure someone could have come up with a better title, but “unprotected flying” just sounds like someone isn’t wearing their seatbelt.
Those pioneering the trend offer a variety of explanations for it, including a salve for in-flight nerves, time for self-reflection and internal spitballing of business ideas.
At the end of the day, I respect that – a few hours off-grid with time to think and mentally organize can be a blessing.
Why then, does this feel like the latest iteration of toxic masculinty, hidden once again behind the facade of mental or physical discipline and benefit? Like Tough Mudder, or a cold plunge.
One man, interviewed about the trend for GQ, said it was about pleasure. “I don’t think men have the same ‘treat culture’ that women do, which is frankly a shame,” he said. “A long flight, for women, is the perfect venue to organize an entire itinerary of treats, and I do think men tend to be more stoic and weird about the spaces in which they allow themselves to receive pleasure.”
Why is a small-screen showing of a movie I didn’t want to pay to see in theaters, under a blanket with a free gin and tonic and a tiny snack, a bad thing? That sounds like an awesome treat to me – a man.
All that aside, at 8.15am on Wednesday I boarded my flight at Los Angeles International Airport, determined to give the trend a go.
After approximately zero minutes, the nice man sitting next to me saw me fiddling with my phone and thought I was struggling to connect to the wifi. He was visibly unsettled when I told him that I was trying to “raw-dog” the flight, until I explained what it meant.
“My father-in-law does that,” he said. “He went to South Africa from California one time and just looked straight ahead the whole time.”
“He’s a strange man,” he added, before going back to watching Dune Part 2 on his iPad. I envied him.
As we left LAX and shot out over the Pacific Ocean before arching back over Los Angeles, the view was breathtaking: the sprawling metropolis, contrasted with the stunning peaks of the San Bernadino mountains. Perhaps, I thought, my cynicism was misplaced, and the meditative qualities of flying “raw” were not to be instantly dismissed.
Then we hit the Mojave desert. Sand and rocks and rocks and sand. My joie-de-vivre vanished instantly and I scowled at the back of the seat in front. Boring.
As well as doing away with visual stimulation, hardcore disciples of the raw-flight movement will not eat snacks or drink during flights. In my mind, however, this does not count as entertainment because it is sustenance – as long as I abstained from reading the wrapper of my mango fruit bar.
Inevitably, such a male-dominated trend has already turned into a competition, with doggers posting online about their personal bests (PBs) – ie time spent airborne with no stimulation. A person interviewed by GQ claimed to have abided by the self-imposed “rules” for 20 hours, while traveling from Bali to London.
Another, posting to TikTok under the username @oiwudini, wrote: “Just raw-dogged a seven-hour flight (new personal best) no headphones, no movie, no water, nothing.”
“Incredible. The power of my mind knows no bounds,” he added.
Back in reality, after exactly four hours and 39 minutes in the air, we finally touched down in New York. I was incredibly relieved as I reached for my headphones.
At its best, “raw-dogging” a flight is a demonstration of true mental fortitude and Spartan endurance. At its worst, it’s yet another weird and grossly titled male obsession with self-control, hidden behind the facade of mental or physical discipline.
If you want to spend five-plus hours in the air doing nothing except watching the animated flight-tracker map, be my guest. But don’t pretend it has any sort of deep, mental, spiritual or physical benefit.
Having a cheeky gin and tonic and watching Dune Part 2 on an iPad is one of the best things about air travel. Why not live a little?
