Dick BensTop

Maybe it's due to my upbringing or my slightly naive approach to the world, but when someone holds an important position, I assume they are competent.

To become the editor-in-chief of Marie Claire, I was put through the wringer for two months, wrote policy plans, and had to prepare a presentation on the retail climate in the Netherlands within 24 hours. That indeed had very little to do with the job, but they just wanted to know if I could pull the right dance moves out of my sleeve on command.

Anyway.
That's why I always thought that Dick Benschop wouldn't just be sitting there as the boss of Schiphol. I don't know who among you has ever tried to become a flight attendant (just for fun after graduating), but that process is already quite rigorous with psychological tests, group games (building a city where you should never start first because then you showed too much leadership and weren't suitable as a team player, remember?) and having conversations with women who had a line for a upper lip, they were that strict. For example, I was rejected (still a sore point, you hear it) because I had two strands of hair draped loose and didn't have a tight ponytail. My reply that I could have put those strands into a ponytail in two seconds was brushed aside. I also had an inaccessible face. ‘Look at yourself’ I just swallowed in time, but I thought it immensely.

Anyway.
If you are already scrutinized from all sides to see if you are suitable to become the editor-in-chief of a magazine or a flight attendant, then the boss of Schiphol must be some kind of superhuman. Heart for the business, someone who breathes the airport. I think of the airport version of Master Ad, the principal of our elementary school. Every morning he stands by the school gate. Chatting a bit with the people, steering a bit, directing a cargo bike off the square, and looking deeply into the eyes of a child who is late again. On the workplace.

You also expect that from Dick Benschop. Especially when the need is high. He walks like a leader across the airport, tosses some suitcases into a bin, walks along the queue to explain to people a bit where the problem lies and asks them to hold on a little longer. Maybe you hand out some bottles of water. Just to show that it affects you. But where was Dick Benschop? On his little boat. With his little dog.

Or at an international conference where they might have been discussing how we can become an even larger transit airport. Because that's what we are: a stopover. As my friend Daniëlle, who lives in Amstelveen, says: ‘I have airplanes flying over my house all day, but the chance that I will be on one myself is virtually nil.’ Who thought this was a good idea? Bad for the environment and bad for us, because we can't leave. Ah, I can already hear Mr. Benschop saying that it was indeed good for the revenue. And couldn't you have used that money to pay your staff a bit decently?

A few weeks ago, the staff at Schiphol received an additional €5.25 per hour. And also: free parking and water, coffee, and tea whenever you wanted. This means that it wasn't there before. And there was also a little PS: that the €5.25 is valid until September. After that, the allowance will be €1.40 again. Nonsense.

Mr. Dick Benschop, are you sleeping well? Do yourself and the rest of the country a great favor: stop. Go on that little boat, cuddle your dog, but make sure that Schiphol becomes our pride again instead of our shame.

Image: Schiphol