• I flew on a private jet from New York to Cleveland.
• The luxury perks were great, but the real value was in time saved.
• Without security, airport terminals, or a long boarding process, my five-hour trip was cut to two.

Warren Buffett once said he wanted to be buried with his private jet, a Bombardier Challenger 600 that he named the “Indispensible.”

After flying halfway across the country on one last month, I get it.

The trek from my home in Brooklyn to Cleveland to visit the headquarters of Flexjet, the private aviation company that arranged my travel, marked my first work trip since returning from maternity leave. Between Uber rides, time at the airport, and a commercial flight, it should have taken five hours each way.

With no security lines, no arduous boarding process, no taxiing, it took about two hours, meaning the seven-month-old I’d left behind was none the wiser: I was there to kiss him goodbye before he left for day care and home in time to give him a bath.

Private aviation usage continues to break records — in the first half of this year, there were 3.6% more private jet flights than last year and 33.6% more than prepandemic levels, according to aviation data firm WingX — and it’s not about the caviar service or extremely abundant leg room.

“Luxury is being able to manipulate time,” Andrew Collins, the co-CEO of Flexjet, told me, repeating a phrase that I’d hear from Flexjet employees throughout my day at HQ. “In essence, it’s a time machine.”

Collins may be towing the party line, but data supports it.

A recent survey of more than 500 private jet users conducted by Private Jet Card Comparison, a guide and advisory service, found that more than 67% of users said door-to-door time saving was the reason they flew private. The next three highest reasons all had some temporal element, be it the availability of a more convenient airport (less time in the car to the final destination) or the lack of available nonstop flights (less time at the airport waiting for a connection).

“They say you can’t buy health or time. Well, you can if you fly privately,” Doug Gollan, Private Jet Card Comparison’s founder, said.

You don’t wait for a private jet, a private jets wait for you.

My trip from New York to Ohio began as those of the uber-wealthy do: with a helicopter ride.

The eight-minute flight from our meeting point on the Eastern side of Manhattan to Teterboro, the airport of choice for New York City private jet owners, saved us at least 45 minutes in bumper-to-bumper midtown traffic.

As we flew over Central Park and took in the new high rises, a discussion I overheard among a Flexjet salesman and another passenger on the press trip was fitting for the setting, with topics ranging from the gym in JP Morgan’s new HQ to the costs involved in joining a country club for car enthusiasts.

But Flexjet’s top brass say there’s a misconception about the typical PJ customer.

People think it’s “a bunch of wealthy little kids running around on Daddy’s money,” Kenn Ricci, Flexjet’s chairman, told me. They picture rock stars popping Champagne bottles or bachelor parties headed to Vegas.

But most Flexjet clients, he said, are large companies that don’t want their handsomely paid CEOs wasting time at an airport lounge with crumby wifi. For them — or really, any of us — time is money.

As our helicopter landed on the tarmac, I saw what the “time machine” fuss was about. Our chariot for the day, a Gulfstream G450, was a few yards away. There was no taking our shoes off for security, waiting in a line to have our boarding passes scanned, or extended taxiing.

You don’t wait for a private jet; a private jet waits for you.

Within minutes of the final passengers climbing aboard, we were in the air, enjoying Greek yogurt and fresh berries. When we touched down in Ohio, there was no circling until we got an OK from air traffic control — just a smooth landing and a 100-foot walk to the FlexJet offices.

While time may be the ultimate luxury — and the reason many drop millions on a private jet — as a commercial flyer, I would be lying if I didn’t say that the other private jet perks were a very welcome bonus.

Inside the climate-controlled cabin, one fellow journalist said her Oura ring didn’t even clock the takeoff as “stress,” which typically happens. The interiors were wood paneled and upholstered in what I assume was faux chagrin. The seats were plush with ample legroom, and blankets were draped over the couch.

The Starlink internet meant I could scroll Instagram while another passenger FaceTimed his wife. A peek in the bathroom drawers showed any number of luxury toiletries, from Evian face spray to Molton Brown mouthwash.

Juices, coffee, and yogurt were handed out on the way there, and on the way home, we boarded to find an array of fresh fruit and snacks, before being served a three-course meal and a Pinterest-worthy charcuterie board.

It was delicious, but it wasn’t Nobu or a filet mignon — though those are on offer if a Flexjet flyer so chooses.

Our flight attendant told us that customers aren’t typically interested in filling up on a steak between business meetings. The most commonly ordered meals are chicken nuggets, quesadillas, and chicken Caesar wraps — aka airport food.

A very expensive time machine

The fact that we were on one of Flexjet’s most expensive models — let alone on a press trip designed to impress — meant the bells and whistles were in full force.

There are more costly options, like the Gulfstream 700, which I toured in Ohio. Jeff Bezos and Elon Musk reportedly each own the model, which has sleeping quarters, a generous kitchen, and a living room with a flat screen TV. At a retail price of $95 million, to become a fractional owner of one of FlexJet’s three G700s, you have to drop over $20 million. That’s not including monthly fees or operating costs.

But the customers for a G700 are few and far between.

The price of flying through Flexjet isn’t straightforward and depends on a number of factors, like the type of aircraft, fuel prices, the length of the flights, and any tax benefits, Private Jet Card Comparison’s Gollan said.

Flexjet advertises its rates as starting at $7,000 an hour and running up to $23,000, inclusive of management fees, operating costs, and the buy-in. The company’s most popular models, mid and super-midsize jets like the Embraer Praetor 500, Embraer Praetor 600, and Bombardier Challenger 350/3500, fall somewhere in between.

Those jets hold fewer than 10 passengers and don’t have any cabin servers aboard. There’s limited kitchen equipment, and, on some of them, grown men can barely stand up straight.

“It’s like sitting in an SUV,” Gollan said about the midsize models. “It’s utilitarian, to get from A to B quickly.”

It may not be sexy, but that doesn’t take away any of the appeal.

“Once you decide to fly private, it’s a little bit of an addiction,” Flexjet’s Ricci said. He said he hasn’t flown commercial in more than 12 years.

• A few years after moving to Alabama for my husband’s job, I still felt lonely.
• To build the friendships I wanted, I started taking classes, going to networking events, and more.
• When I met people I liked, I made plans, and realized it was the key to making friends.

In 2023, a few years after moving to Alabama for my husband’s dream job at NASA, I found myself desperately lonely and facing the prospect of an adulthood over 400 miles from our hometown with a nonexistent social safety net. I felt like we were in a race against time: how quickly could we build the kind of community we would need as we began to build a family?

I committed to spending the entire year pursuing any opportunity that might lead to a connection with others. I took pottery classes and set up coffee dates. I attended networking events and planned baking days. I slid into the DMs of any interesting woman in my area who came across my Instagram feed: “This might sound strange, but I think we should be friends!”

As part of this effort, I began to love planning small parties, and in the process, I realized that if I was willing to be the one to make plans, my ability to connect with others grew exponentially.

I realized that by planning things I wanted to do, I’d attract people I’d want to be friends with

For years, I’d been sitting at home wondering why I had nothing to do. Was everyone hanging out without me? Was I socially inept in ways I hadn’t realized? But once I began trying in earnest, I realized it was something else: no one was planning anything, not really.

Sure, everyone was busy — workout classes, day care drop-off, work deadlines, little league games, family obligations — but they were mostly waiting for someone else to make the first move. So I did. I began hosting regularly, and building community events on my own terms. I sketched out ideas for gatherings that would delight me and attract the kind of person I wanted in my life: seasonal “produce parties,” pumpkin carving, game nights, monthly dinner parties with close friends, watercolor club, and farmers market meet-ups.

In those efforts, I was met with an incredible amount of enthusiasm. I filtered out the people who regularly flaked on me and prioritized those who seemed most enthusiastic about being there. I realized the value of what I call “joiners”: friends who try to say “yes” as often as possible are the fuel for the hosting fire.

It’s a joy to see our small home full of so much life and to introduce our friends to each other, and as we close the door behind the last lingering guest, we smile and sigh and look at our crumb-filled home with deep, aching gratitude for what we’re building.

However, planning does take its toll

But it’s not free to be the planner of the friend group. There is a fair bit of administrative work: coordinating schedules, sending invites and tracking RSVPs, planning menus, and, of course, the monetary expense of purchasing groceries or other hosting obligations.

My husband and I regularly spend a full day preparing to host, but the whole thing feels sacred in a way. We see it as an investment in building the world we’d like to live in, and we hope that it will pay off in lifelong friendships and that elusive “found family” that many millennials pursue.

Still, I find myself stifling twinges of hurt when the effort isn’t reciprocated. It’s a privilege to have the bandwidth to host the way we do, and that’s not by accident. I revel in my position as the friend group’s Ina Garten! However, when I’m invited to something planned by someone else and I’m able to simply relax and show up with a salad or bottle of wine, I realize what a gift I’ve been giving. It’s nice to reap all the joy without putting in all the effort.

I can’t help but wonder: if my bandwidth narrows or my life circumstances change, if I find myself unable to be the one constantly reaching out, will anyone else step in? What would it take to turn a few joiners into planners?

• Wealthy men are ditching dating apps and turning to $25,000 matchmaking services.
• One exec who paid $26,000 for curated dates called Tinder and Raya “a waste of time and energy.”
• Demand for luxury matchmaking is booming — and insiders say it’s all about control and privacy.

What used to be a last resort is now becoming a power move: high-paying men are outsourcing their love lives.

A growing number of high-net-worth male professionals are ditching dating apps and turning to luxury matchmaking services, spending tens of thousands of dollars to find a serious partner.

Frustrated by ghosting, burnout, and superficial matches, some are opting for curated introductions, even if it means paying $20,000 or more for the right match.

Grant Miller, a 39-year-old VFX executive, gave dating apps another try after a breakup last year — and quickly remembered why he hated them.

“I was on Raya and Tinder, and you’d think the experience would be better on Raya — but it’s not. It’s just the same,” he told Business Insider. “An enormous waste of time and energy.”

Years earlier, he’d met a serious partner through a matchmaking service in Los Angeles.

The relationship lasted over three years and convinced him to try again. After interviewing three firms, Miller chose Maclynn, a luxury matchmaking agency based in London, where he now lives.

Since signing up in September 2024, he said he has paid about £20,000, or about $26,000, and been introduced to 16 women through the service.

“We took a very ‘open’ approach as I was available and enjoyed meeting new people,” he said, adding that some dates turned into short relationships or friendships.

One connection, he added, has long-term potential — but “our schedules and lifestyles need some alignment, which has been challenging.”

Still, he’s said it’s worth it.

“When you multiply the time you’d spend dating by your hourly rate, the fees suddenly become not so bad,” he said. “I value my time, and I’m serious about finding the right person.”

The data behind the dating shift

While most clients prefer to stay anonymous, four matchmaking firms told BI they’re seeing a clear increase in demand from HNW men.

Selective Search, a US-based firm, said it’s seen a 35% increase in clients since 2019 and a 65% jump in inquiries. According to marketing specialist Grace Urban, that momentum is accelerating in 2025, with a 23% rise in male clients year-to-date.

“This steady demand has been driven by high-quality men seeking a more intentional and effective way to date,” she said.

Maclynn, the agency Miller chose, reported double-digit year-on-year growth in its HNW male client base every year since 2020.

“This reflects a nearly fivefold increase in just five years,” said Mia Wealthall, the company’s global operations director. By the end of September, 70% of new clients were HNW men, and sign-ups for that group were up 25% year-over-year for the third quarter.

Matchmaking.com also reported a 60% client surge between 2020 and 2021, followed by 25% growth in both 2022 and 2023 and another 20% increase over 2024 to 2025.

“More high-earning men are stepping away from the noise of dating apps,” said Cheryl Maida, the firm’s director of matchmaking. “They’re tired of endless conversations that go nowhere, ghosting, and not knowing who’s actually serious.”

UK-based Ignite Dating said male inquiries are up 42% over the past 18 months.

The industry as a whole is booming. According to Verified Market Research, the premium matchmaking market is projected to nearly double, from $1.27 billion in 2023 to $2.39 billion by 2032.

Who these men are — and why they’re doing this

For Miller, the appeal of matchmaking isn’t just about convenience — it’s about increasing his chances of finding someone exceptional.

“You start doing percentages of percentages of percentages. And you’re down to like one in a hundred thousand women,” he said. “And I’m not going to meet a hundred women on my own.”

What matters most to Miller is ambition and emotional alignment.

“Financial success doesn’t always translate to romantic success,” he said. “It kind of narrows the dating pool if you’re looking for someone who’s not intimidated or overly motivated by wealth.”

Matchmaking helps with that, he said. “I think they’re very good at sniffing out — for lack of a better word — just the kind of ‘gold digger.’ I’m looking for someone who’s additive to my life. And who’s bringing their own value to the equation.”

How matchmaking works

Unlike dating apps, which rely on algorithms and swipes, high-end matchmaking is slow, high-touch, and personalized.

Clients often start with a two-to-three-hour interview, exploring their values, past relationships, and goals.

“They really get into the interview process a ton,” said Miller. “I spent probably an hour or two just chatting through previous relationships, what went well, what went poorly, what I’m working on as a person.”

Matchmakers begin sourcing matches — sometimes via internal networks, sometimes by headhunting. At Maclynn, high-net-worth clients often trigger global searches and discreet outreach.

Matches come with bios, photos, and backgrounds. Miller said the contrast with apps is stark: “You’re kind of meeting, not an actual person, but this hyped-up kind of fake representation of themselves.”

Hinge, Raya, and Tinder didn’t respond to Business Insider’s requests for comment.

Why the trend is taking off now

Jess Carbino, a former sociologist for Tinder and Bumble, told BI the rise of luxury matchmaking isn’t necessarily about rejecting dating apps — but about control.

“This isn’t necessarily a reflection of dating apps generally, but rather shifts related to how people outsource what used to be a very personal, familial, and institutionally-based process,” she said.

“They outsource their laundry, they outsource their food delivery, they outsource, you know, major parts of their fitness to a coach,” she added. “Why not outsource one other element of their life, which is highly salient?”

Pepper Schwartz, a professor of sociology at the University of Washington and coauthor of “Relationship Rx: Prescriptions for Lasting Love and Deeper Connection,” concurred — but added that many wealthy men believe price equals results.

“The idea that money will buy you a better product, a better treat, a better person,” she said. “Whether that is true or not, that’s the theory that many of them have.”

She warned the matchmaker pool may be smaller than clients realize: “They usually believe there’s more denominator available than is actually there, and they haven’t done the homework to know.”

Even so, she said, the pressure to partner up later in life is real — and high-end matchmaking offers the illusion of control in what can feel like a high-stakes search.

“You may hope that something will just happen for you,” she said, “but if you really want love, you’ve got to get out there and look for it.”