What we keep about the people who ask for early access, and only them. What the app itself does with your data is a different page, and a longer one now that it has an account and a backup in it: the app's privacy.
What you typed: your email address, the operator, whether you fly as pilot or cabin crew, whether you offered to help test your operator's integration, and your first name and last name if you gave them, which the form asks for in two boxes and requires in neither. Leaving them empty signs you up exactly the same; the only difference is how the first message greets you. They are asked in two boxes rather than one so that nothing has to be guessed at: which half of a name is the one to greet you by is not something we would want a machine deciding. And what the sign-up itself tells us: the date, whether you had signed up before, and, when your address is a company one, its domain, because forty people writing from an operator's own mail say more than forty people typing its name. Free mailboxes are never mistaken for employers.
Two more, both about this promise rather than about you: which version of it was on the form when you sent it, so we can show what you agreed to instead of asserting it, and the date we last wrote to each other, which is what the twenty-four months below are counted from. No IP address, no browser fingerprint, nothing about the device you used. Keeping more in order to prove things better would mean creating data that did not exist.
We'll write to you about early access, your operator's integration, and the occasional note on what we're building. A few notes a year, never a stream. No sharing, no selling; one line back and you're deleted.
Our messages carry our badge at the top, and your mail app fetches that one image from us when you open one, which means the opening itself reaches our server. We keep no record of who opened what and we do not count opens, but the request happens and it would be dishonest to let a logo imply otherwise. Nothing else in the message is fetched from anywhere, and there is no tracking pixel.
One message arrives straight away, confirming what you typed, mostly so a mistyped address shows up while it can still be fixed. Your mail app may put an unsubscribe button on it. It works, and it stops everything, including the notes you joined for. There is no middle setting, and that is deliberate rather than unfinished: a list this small is kept by one person, and a preference nobody is watching is worse than no preference at all. A reply asking to come off works too, and is read by a person.
On Cloudflare's infrastructure, which is our service provider for this site. When you sign up, a notice lands in our own inbox, and that notice carries your address.
And when we write to you, the mail itself is carried by Brevo, a French provider, on servers in the EU. They hold your address in order to deliver what we send and to honour an unsubscribe. They are a processor working on our instruction: they do not get to use your address for anything of their own. When you ask us to delete you, our row goes at once, but a mail provider also keeps its own delivery records for a while afterwards, which is normal and which we do not control.
Beyond Cloudflare and Brevo, nobody else receives any of it. It is never sold, and it is never shared with an operator or an airline.
Until the app opens for your operator, or twenty-four months after we last wrote to each other, whichever comes first. Then the row is deleted. One email to the address below deletes it sooner, no reason needed.
The Flight Crew App is in private beta. One address answers for everything on this page, including a request to delete what we hold, which we answer within a month: hello@theflightcrewapp.com
Under the GDPR you can ask for a copy of what we hold about you, have it corrected, have it deleted, or object to our using it. Write to hello@theflightcrewapp.com and we will answer. You can also complain to your data protection authority; in Spain that is the AEPD.
If we ever want to use the list for anything not named here, we ask first. We don't reinterpret what you signed up for.