Free Wi‑Fi on AirBaltic Flights: Why It’s Not Okay

Starlink’s in-flight internet is a technical leap — with speeds up to 500 Mbps, it far outperforms traditional satellite systems. airBaltic’s CEO Martin Gauss praised the tech as “outstanding,” but admitted it sparked “controversial headlines” due to Elon Musk’s ownership. And indeed, not all passengers welcomed the change. Some criticized the airline for partnering with Musk, citing his political ties and polarizing public image. One Latvian user even called it a threat to national security, vowing to avoid the airline altogether.

Under airBaltic’s onboard Wi-Fi terms of use, only metadata is collected to operate the network—device MAC addresses, user-assigned device names, data volumes, and signal strength. The content of your sessions (websites visited, messages sent, etc.) is not logged or stored. Aggregate performance data (number of connected devices, throughput) is retained for up to two years solely for quality monitoring and troubleshooting. All traffic transmitted over the Wi-Fi network is encrypted according to HTTPS standards and device security protocols.

Although Starlink and airBaltic strive to protect user data—and any direct government access would require a court order—you shouldn’t rely on that alone. It’s wise to review airBaltic’s and Starlink’s privacy policies carefully, use a VPN when possible, and disable automatic sync features to add an extra layer of protection for your personal information.

Elon Musk's Starlink has rapidly become a dominant force in satellite internet services. As of 2025, Starlink operates approximately 7,000 satellites, accounting for nearly two-thirds of all active satellites in orbit. This vast network positions Musk as a central figure in global communications infrastructure.

Regulatory bodies have expressed concerns over this concentration of control. FCC (ed. Federal Communications Commission) Chair Jessica Rosenworcel highlighted that such monopolization could hinder competition and innovation in the satellite internet sector.

The geopolitical implications of Musk's control are also evident. During the war in Ukraine, Musk reportedly declined a request to extend Starlink coverage to facilitate a Ukrainian military operation, citing concerns over escalating the war. This incident underscores the influence a private individual can wield over international affairs.​

In another instance, Musk's platform X (formerly Twitter) faced suspension in Brazil after defying a Supreme Court order. The Brazilian judiciary accused Musk of attempting to circumvent national laws, raising questions about the challenges democracies face when regulating powerful tech entities. ​

For airlines like airBaltic, partnering with Starlink means integrating into a network controlled by a single entity. This reliance could pose risks if Musk decides to alter service terms or coverage, potentially affecting passengers' access to in-flight connectivity.

Beyond the technical and economic issues, there’s an undeniably cultural and ethical dimension to the unease about Musk’s Starlink in our skies. Elon Musk is not a neutral figure in today’s society; he’s a polarizing celebrity-CEO whose actions often carry political undertones. He has positioned himself as an ally of right-wing politics, from vocally supporting US President Donald Trump (to whom he donated at least $264 million) to cozying up to far-right figures in Europe​. These associations have tarnished Musk’s image in many eyes, especially in Europe where such far-right politics are often met with alarm. For Latvians and others in Eastern Europe, Musk’s murky stance on Russia’s war in Ukraine – e.g. suggesting Ukraine cede territory to Russia in a 2022 Twitter poll, or limiting Starlink during a Ukrainian operation​ – is more than just internet gossip; it touches on existing security issues.

His political stances have even sparked a form of “cancel culture,” with consumers distancing themselves from his brands. Some Tesla owners have gone so far as to slap bumper stickers on their cars reading, “I bought this before we knew Elon was crazy,” expressing their protest while still keeping their vehicles .

Flights once functioned as involuntary digital detox zones, offering a rare sanctuary from screen time. A 2019 study of “digital‑free tourism” found that, despite initial anxiety and withdrawal, travelers soon reported growing acceptance, enjoyment, and even a sense of liberation when offline. Psychologists and wellness experts highlight that unplugging reduces stress, improves sleep quality, and restores mental focus—benefits increasingly hard to attain in our always‑online lives.

Today’s gate‑to‑gate Wi‑Fi fills cabins with anxiety‑inducing pings and nonstop notifications, eroding the rare tranquility flights once enforced. As one Business Destinations columnist lamented, “planes are one of the few places where we are still able to unplug,” but in‑flight internet now turns tray tables into workstations, shattering any forced tech cleanse. Likewise, a recent Condé Nast Traveler debate described airplanes as the “final Wi‑Fi‑free frontier,” arguing that being unreachable at 35,000 feet offers essential space for reflection and creative thought—something high‑speed connectivity now threatens to erase.

By converting every flight into another digital battlefield, airlines risk passengers arriving more frazzled than rested.

Free Wi-Fi via Starlink on airBaltic flights is a technological feat—but it carries serious trade-offs. By turning every flight into another digital battleground, airlines risk passengers arriving not refreshed but exhausted. In the end, the allure of “free” Wi-Fi in the sky forces us to ask: are we sacrificing privacy, autonomy, and genuine rest for nonstop connectivity?