Eric Falt | Lucy in the sky - The hidden bias in airport names

As the summer travel season kicks in, airports across the world once again become spaces of intense movement and connection. They are among the most universal public infrastructures of modern life.

Whether in London, Paris, New York, or across small island states, airports are where global mobility becomes visible and shared.

Travelling recently across the Caribbean, where I am currently based, and passing through the Princess Juliana International Airport in Saint Martin, I found myself paying attention to something I had previously taken for granted: the names of airports.

On departure boards and terminal entrances, names appear constantly, repeated thousands of times a day. Yet, taken together, they form a striking and largely unnoticed global pattern.

Across continents, the overwhelming majority of major international airports are named after men. Political leaders, military figures, founders of states, and national heroes. Their names dominate the global architecture of travel. By contrast, airports named after women remain rare, often limited to a very small number of exceptional figures.

One of the airports whose name I became deeply familiar with during the years I was based in New Delhi was the Indira Gandhi International Airport, the main, largest, and busiest airport in India. I passed through it countless times, almost without thinking about the significance of its name. Yet, looking back, it now strikes me as something of an exception.

PART OF AVIATION HISTORY

Women have always been part of aviation history, and global progress more broadly. Figures such as Amelia Earhart, whose transatlantic and Pacific flights reshaped the limits of what was considered possible, remain globally recognised. Yet, her name is only attached to the small airport of her hometown in Atchison, Kansas.

Others, such as Sabiha Gökçen, one of the world’s first female combat pilots, represent equally significant breakthroughs in aviation. The second major airport serving Istanbul bears her name.

Beyond aviation, countless women have shaped political, scientific, and cultural history in ways that are foundational to the societies that now receive millions of international travellers each year. Yet, their presence in the naming of major global infrastructure remains extremely limited.

A widely cited analysis of 352 airports around the world named after people found that only 15 or 16 were named exclusively after women, representing roughly four per cent of the total.

Airports are not neutral spaces. They are symbolic gateways. For many travellers, they are the first and last experience of a country. They are also among the most frequently repeated encounters with public naming, and therefore with collective memory. What is repeatedly named becomes normalised. What is absent becomes less visible, even when its contribution is significant.

From the perspective of UNESCO, names form part of intangible cultural heritage. They influence how societies understand themselves and how they are perceived by others. They are not merely labels, but acts of recognition.

When a child travels through different countries and repeatedly encounters airports named after men, a subtle message is transmitted about who is associated with leadership, permanence, and national identity. This is not necessarily intentional, but it is structural.

The same naming logic appears across Europe, Africa, Asia, and the Americas. It reflects historical processes in which public recognition has often prioritised political visibility and formal authority, domains historically dominated by men.

There are exceptions, and they matter precisely because they exist against the dominant pattern. A small number of airports worldwide indeed bear the names of women, and they demonstrate that alternative choices are entirely possible. But their rarity is what makes the imbalance visible.

This raises a broader question: what do we choose to embed in the everyday architecture of global life?

CULTURAL STATEMENTS

Airports are not only transport infrastructure. They are cultural statements. They encode values into space in ways that are experienced by millions of people without needing explanation. This is precisely what makes them powerful.

The issue is not about replacing existing names (even though it could be) or revising history. It is about expanding the range of figures considered worthy of permanent public recognition. Many societies already have a rich record of women whose contributions to independence movements, social development, science, education, and public service are well documented. Their absence from major infrastructure is not a reflection of absence of achievement, but of historical patterns of recognition.

As global travel continues to grow, especially in regions such as the Caribbean where connectivity is central to economic and social life, the symbolic dimension of infrastructure becomes increasingly important. Airports are not only logistical hubs. They are points of contact between identity and the world.

The question, then, is not only who is remembered, but how memory is distributed in the spaces we all pass through.

Airports connect the world physically. Their names connect it symbolically. The challenge is whether that symbolic network reflects the diversity of human contribution, or whether it continues to reproduce older patterns of visibility.

To travel is to move through space. But it is also, inevitably, to move through meaning.

Eric Falt is the director and representative of UNESCO for the Caribbean region, covering the English and Dutch-speaking countries. Send feedback to columns@gleanerjm.com