Shawn Achor, chief of Good Think Inc., a psychology consulting firm, on the Italian Riviera. Q. How often do you fly for business?
A. Two to three times a week, both domestic and international.
Q. What is your least favorite airport?
A. This is tough because I try to think of positive things about each one. But I suppose I’m not a big fan of O’Hare, since it’s tough to navigate.
Q. Of all the places you have been, what is the best?
A. South Africa because of the incredible people, many of whom had nothing, but still managed to create deep relationships with each other.
Q. What is your secret airport vice?
A. Multiple protein bars. I eat these things like crazy at the airport. I don’t lift weights while traveling, but I justify the protein bars because I lift my carry-on.
I do have some things that work that make travel less tedious. I bring a Kindle instead of a book, and that means I gain about 30 minutes each flight during takeoff and landing when I can’t use electronics. I realized I was gaining time to do other things. Now I meditate, go through some Spanish flash cards, write a quick thank-you note to someone I met during my previous business trip and then pick up the airline magazine and learn one new fact about the world. I have a blast. When you’re traveling for business, it can be hard to remember things that happened on a trip, especially if you travel alone. Researchers found that taking just two minutes to jot down notes in a travel journal about things that you did and how you felt doing those things can make the experience more meaningful to you. I know business travel can be tough, but many of us get to see new things and new places. It’s worth making the effort to try to remember those experiences that we enjoyed. One time I was delayed at O’Hare for a while. I wound up being thrilled that my flight wasn’t canceled when many others were. When I play badly at tennis, I get frustrated. When I play great, I assume that’s my normal. When my plane is on time, I assume that’s normal. But in the normal world, travel delays happen all the time. As the comedian Louis C.K. points out, we need to keep things in perspective. He says we forget how good we have it, even in our frustrating times. I worked with a group of critical care nurses in Boston who had a great idea. They make an “In Case of Emergency” folder. They print out pictures of family and friends, as well as great e-mails or notes that made them smile. They put all of this stuff in a folder. Then, when they were having a particularly tough day at work, they would open their folders and be reminded of all of the good things in life. I think it would be a great idea to make a folder like this, or even scan stuff onto a laptop, and then when a flight gets canceled or you’re sitting next to someone who does nothing but complain, you could find a little solace. Some of my colleagues do give me a hard time sometimes when flights are really late or canceled. I’ll get a comment from them like, “So how are you doing now, Mr. Happy?” All I can say is that I try to find the positive. That’s important because our brains pick up on negativity easily. One of the things we like to do when traveling is a little experiment with “mirror neurons.” These brain neurons show activation when you see someone yawning, for example, raising the likelihood of you doing the same behavior. Sometimes my colleagues and I will mess with people at the gate and start tapping our feet or looking at our watches, as if we’re anxious to get on board. Within about two minutes, several other people will start to mimic the same behavior. I never do this experiment at my gate, though. I don’t want to be on the plane with a bunch of anxious people. On the other hand, if you smile and act relaxed, people are going to pick up on those behaviors and possibly even create a ripple effect of, well, happiness.By Shawn Achor, as told to Joan Raymond. E-mail: joan.raymond@nytimes.com
Damon Winter/The New York TimesFor decades, flights over spectacular Alaskan landscapes could end with devilishly difficult landings. More Photos »FLYING over Alaska in the wintertime is a spectacular experience. At 35,000 feet, the state’s rugged beauty unfolds, a succession of white mountain peaks against steel-blue skies, icy lakes and frozen rivers that snake as far as the eye can see. It’s an awesome sight, wild and pristine, that glows in a thousand hues of red, orange and pink when the sun sets against the horizon. 
The pilots Dan Kaplin and Tom Peebles complete a safety check before a short flight from Wrangell, about 200 miles southeast of Juneau, to Petersburg. More Photos » But then, you have to land. Juneau’s airport is surrounded by mountains, the approach often buffeted by treacherous wind shear. Sitka’s one small runway is on a narrow strip of land surrounded by water. And in Kodiak, the landing strip ends abruptly at a mountainside. The airport approach is so tricky that first officers are not allowed to land there; only captains are trusted to do so. Doug Wahto knows these airports well. He grew up in Juneau, worked as a commercial fisherman and builder and started flying with Alaska Airlines in 1970. As a pilot, he honed the art of reading wind conditions by looking at how snow blew over mountain ridges. Mr. Wahto retired six years ago, but not before seeing the transformation of flying in Alaska and of the airline where he spent his career. Alaska Airlines is puny compared to the major carriers: it has 124 planes, while United Airlines has more than 700 and four times as many passengers. But because of the state’s topography and extreme weather, it was the first to develop satellite guidance, a navigation technique that has transformed landing at Alaska’s tricky airports. The technique is now at the heart of the Federal Aviation Administration’s plan to modernize the nation’s air traffic system, a project that is expected to cost tens of billions of dollars over the coming decades. “It doesn’t take a rocket scientist,” Mr. Wahto says, “or a crusty old dog like me to fly these approaches anymore.” Largely because of that technology, flying in Alaska is now remarkably reliable — even in the dead of winter, when it is snowing, when there are just two hours of daylight, when runways are made slippery by ice or sleet, when winds blow at more than 50 miles an hour and pilots can barely see out the windshield. When, in other words, no one in his right mind would want to land a Boeing 737 with 140 passengers on a 6,000-foot runway. Alaska Airlines, in fact, had the industry’s best on-time performance for the third consecutive year in 2012, with 87 percent of flights landing on time, according to FlightStats, a data provider. That reliability means a lot in a state where air travel is often the only option, and where Alaska is the only commercial jet carrier with in-state routes. The airline flies to 16 towns accessible only by plane or boat, and, in doing so, ferries food and medical supplies, takes thousands of oil workers above the Arctic Circle and operates as the biggest air shipper for the state’s fisheries. This role as primary transport for in the state is still a healthy business, but Alaska Airlines has prospered by expanding its services. From its Seattle base, it now has a bigger presence than other airlines along much of the West Coast. In 2007, it moved into Hawaii; its flights to the state now account for 20 percent of its available seat miles, an industry standard for measuring capacity. That is more than the 17 percent in Alaska itself. Megamergers, most recently of US Airways and American Airlines, have redrawn the boundaries of domestic carriers, concentrating the business as never before. Alaska Airlines, for its part, has cultivated staunch independence. Unlike carriers that have faced bankruptcy or acquisition, Alaska has turned a profit for 33 of the last 39 years. In 2012, it had a record $316 million in net income, up 29 percent from 2011. Although it started in a sparsely populated, meteorologically unwelcoming, financially challenging corner of the country, Alaska has built a successful franchise that is the envy of many rivals.
M. Sanjayan. I FLY a lot. And honestly, flying now is a means to an end, although I used to enjoy it. It’s not that I hate it or am paranoid. It’s just that it’s a chore.