IN an era of convenient air travel, missing a flight isn't a big problem since it's easy to catch another one without being charged twice.

Yet for many Chinese, the train is their only affordable transport for long-haul trips. Even a minute change in the pricing of train tickets may restrict many people's access.

Therefore, the Ministry of Railways (MOR) should tread cautiously when changing policy that will affect tens of millions of passengers.

It seldom does. In a fresh reminder of its arrogance and unaccountability, the ministry's latest regulation stirred up so much controversy that it was forced to scrap it only days after it went into effect.

The new rule came into force on December 1. It stipulated that passengers who are late for regular-speed trains would lose the money paid for their tickets.

Under the new rule, except for cases of illness or injury, they could not ask for a refund, nor could they transfer to other trains through ticket swaps within two hours of departure - a common practice that used to apply to high-speed and regular trains.

A migrant worker surnamed Li in Foshan, Guangdong Province, was embittered by this rigid new ticketing policy. Due to snarled traffic, he arrived at the station too late for ticket punching and was barred from boarding just five minutes before the train's departure for Hubei, his native province.

His attempt to swap the ticket, which cost 281 yuan (US$42), for the next train home ended in failure. He had been 10 minutes too late, the booking office told him. Dismayed at the loss of money - nearly one sixth an average migrant's monthly income - he burst into tears.

Li's ordeal is not unique. People similarly angered by the tightening of the ticketing rule have decided to take action to restore the status quo ante.

The Oriental Morning Post reported on Tuesday that Li Fangping, a pro bono lawyer in Beijing, on Monday had filed the first lawsuit against the railway authorities, demanding reinstatement of the ticket-swap mechanism.

Li had missed a train on December 5 by one hour and a half and was not allowed to transfer to another one that left later in the day.

Under the old system he would have had two hours to make the change.

The bone of contention is the perceived inequality of many who were affected by this new ticketing policy. They cried foul over the "discriminatory way" they were being treated.

Indeed, the ban does not apply to holders of high-speed train tickets. Thus, regular passengers had good reason to suspect a ploy to force them to choose more expensive high-speed rail services.

And the no-switch mandate contained plenty of other irritating details that seemed to support the "discrimination" charge. For instance, passengers who bought second- or third-class seats were not allowed to linger in first-class carriages.

The salvo of protest forced authorities to officially rescind the new mandate, although it had never been strictly observed or was only indifferently implemented in some locales lest it trigger a backlash.

The MOR said the new policy was aimed at curbing ticket scalping. But analysts say it was unlikely to make much of a difference, since scalpers in the know can still profiteer by making last-minute changes to reschedule the timings of their tickets.

More perplexing is the rapidity with which railway officials flip-flopped on their own decision.

Considering that the public was never consulted on this change beforehand, and not even well informed about it thereafter, the policy making that went on behind closed doors inevitably drew scathing criticism.

It's not the first time, and won't be the last, that the MOR has snubbed the public on a very public issue. In a time when flight delay compensation has become a norm in the civil aviation industry, the MOR has yet to reconcile with the need to follow suit.

I doubt it ever will. Late trains are commonplace in China and the MOR barely feels obliged to offer apologies or explanations.

It reasoned amid the ticket row that the train ticket is essentially a contract signed by consenting parties, namely, the railway station and the passengers. They are bound by it and must bear the consequence of default. Passengers missing their trains thus only have themselves to blame.

This arrogance stems in part from the ministry's strategic importance. In times of national crises, like natural calamities, it is responsible for dispatching relief aid and transporting rescue troops to disaster-stricken areas; during the annual passenger rush on the eve of the Spring Festival, the MOR is charged with overseeing the biggest migration in the world as hundreds of millions of homeward bound people are on the move.

This exalted status may have led railway officials to falsely conclude that they need not to deign to keep the public abreast of their decision making, even though its internal regulation requires "public hearings to be held for decisions concerning the public's vital interests."

This is why the MOR is popularly nicknamed "boss of railways," a term tinged with awe and misgivings about its bona fides.

This overbearing attitude also owes much to the exceptional power it wields. Unlike most ministries that only boast the power to craft decrees, the MOR has its own police force, prosecutor's office and courts to make sure whoever foolishly confronts it on its turf is penalized.

Among those on the receiving end of this spotty justice is a female lawyer named Wang Yu.

Despite the best efforts of her family and attorney to seek her acquittal, a MOR-affiliated court of appeal sentenced her on November 24 to two and a half years in prison for "seriously injuring three people."

Wang scuffled with railway workers over trivia on May 4, 2008, at a Tianjin railway station. The woman, 37, was said to have slapped a male railway worker in the face, causing him to lose hearing, and knocked down and critically injured two others.

Though it defies common sense that one woman could fight off three men, the MOR court easily found incriminating evidence and ruled against Wang.

With such episodes showing the MOR is not to be messed with, can the public expect any serious consideration for their welfare when the ministry overhauls its ticketing policy, ostensibly in the public interest?

China now boasts the world's longest high-speed railway network, at 7,531 kilometers - and is still growing. It keeps rolling out glitzy trains that can rocket passengers at 486 kilometers per hour. Yet sophisticated hardware cannot overshadow its failings to reform the primitive software for dealing with people.

Its service is poorly rated and leaves much to be desired. To this end, the "boss of railways" should first of all stop bossing passengers around with silly schemes that will only backfire.