I flew in business class for the first time. It cost $6,000 and was the best flight of my life, but I wouldn't do it again for 5 reasons.

Before I found seat 1A on the Boeing 787-9 aircraft, I was already being treated like royalty. 

One flight attendant was pouring me a glass of sparkling wine. Another one was helping lift my carry-on bag into the overhead bins. A third soon followed to introduce herself and welcome me on the Air New Zealand flight. 

If those first few minutes were any indicator of how the rest of my ride would go, I knew I was in for a glamorous time. 

I also knew that business-class passengers around me had likely dropped around $6,000 for their ticket, which was the flight cost in 2022. (Business Insider received a media rate for a round-trip flight.)

As of May 2025, the airline has redesigned its business-class cabin, and round-trip flights from Los Angeles start at $7,000.

Before this flight, I'd never spent more than $1,400 on a plane ticket. Most of my vacations involve free campsites and nights spent in a $20 tent I bought off Facebook Marketplace. 

I appreciated the indulgent flight — years later, I'm still thinking about the chocolate tart served for dessert.

Even after all the perks, I'm convinced flying business class isn't worth the splurge. 

Every part of the 12-hour flight was filled with luxury.

I was handed a warm towel before a three-course dinner. I received a turndown service, and flight attendants converted my seat into a lie-flat bed. I slept better than I had on any flight before and woke up to a fruit smoothie and warm coffee.

Even with those perks, it was hard to ignore that the flight was the same 12 hours as it was in coach.

No amount of wine could distract me from the fact that I was still confined to a tight space. No number of free toiletries could make me forget I was about to spend days jet-lagged. 

Now, if my business-class ticket came with turbo speed, perhaps I'd think twice about the cost. 

When it comes to traveling, I'm typically willing to sacrifice comfort for the experience. I'd rather pay money to go skydiving or bungee jumping than stay in a five-star hotel.

And $6,000 could fund a lot of life experiences. The cost of my business-class seat on the same route could buy another vacation, pay for multiple months of rent, or be used as a down payment on a new car that could take me on adventures across the US. 

I could also replicate my entire 21-day trip to New Zealand and Australia for less than the cost of a round-trip ticket to New Zealand. 

While I loved the business-class experience, I'd trade it in a heartbeat to go diving in the Great Barrier Reef again, stay in more magical tiny homes, and continue exploring the two epic countries. 

I've probably reiterated the phrase dozens of times. To a degree, I stand by the concept that life is often about the journey. 

I've embarked on plenty of road trips where the best memories happened in the passenger seat — not the destinations we were driving to. 

But when I look at the highlights of past trips, plane rides never stand out.

I think that's because the entire experience still has challenges regardless of your cabin class. Between possible delays, dry air, cabin pressure, limited space, and potential jet lag, I've never been too eager to board a plane.

I love the rush when the plane lifts off the ground, and I savor the views and conversations with strangers on each flight.

But my excitement is more about where I'm going. It's not about being cramped on a plane. 

Before my trip, I knew that flying was one of the more carbon-intensive transportation options. In 2023, aviation made up about 2.5% of global energy-related carbon emissions.

Two months after my business-class flight, I chatted with sustainability experts about how to make vacations more sustainable. They told me that a large part of a vacation's carbon footprint will likely come from the flight, and if I do need to fly to my destination, it's more responsible to sit in economy class. 

A business-class seat takes up significantly more space on a plane, which means fewer passengers can fit onto the aircraft. And that results in a larger carbon footprint.

For example, a business-class row of seats on Air New Zealand's Boeing 787-9 fits three people. Meanwhile, a row in economy on the same plane fits nine passengers. Those nine people have a much smaller personal carbon footprint than the three sitting in business class. 

Before this trip, I had never had the chance to sit in premium economy, much less business class, so I hadn't considered the different carbon footprints each cabin class has on planes.

As I continue searching for more sustainable ways to travel, like train travel, I'm also booking economy for future flights.

I'm young and able-bodied. While sitting in economy is never a blast, especially on long-haul flights, I am fortunate that I can. Planes aren't designed for everyone.

Flying can be challenging for plus-sized passengers. Planes are also not often a comfortable experience for many people with disabilities. Rebekah Taussig, a wheelchair user, wrote for Time that "flying has always felt disempowering."

Flying — especially in economy class — isn't something everyone has the privilege to do. I'm fortunate that I can relax in an economy seat on a long-haul flight. For me, wanting the luxury of a business-class seat doesn't seem necessary in my current life. 

There are a few circumstances where I'd consider splurging on a premium economy ticket, such as a monumental birthday trip or a honeymoon. But I can't envision an instance where I would pay $6,000 for a regular long-haul, business-class flight.

From the environmental toll to extra time in a destination, I plan to stick with economy class for future flights.