With the passing of Chuck Yeager late in 2020, the era of the World War II aviator is symbolically gone. Along with it, the living memory of the war is fading, as well. Which is a direct challenge to all of us in aviation, not so much to remember—we will—but to adjust to a future none of us had imagined as that future superimposes itself on an aviation framework as imagined by people with little knowledge of the complexities of our existing airspace system or the often counterintuitive reasons it has developed as it has into the most flexible, useful and economically advantageous infrastructure component in the history of the world.
The twilight of World War II is upon us. When I started flying in the mid-1970s, the U.S. aviation scene seemed a direct outgrowth of the Second World War. I think younger me was right. It’s not hard to trace the lines from Gemini and Soyuz back to the development of rocket planes and jets immediately post-war by the world’s surviving major powers. And the migration of GIs back home following the war created both the culture and marketplace that propelled personal flying into a 40-year-long boom of activity that continues to impact and largely define our flying world 35 years down the line. It’s anybody’s guess what our aviation future will look like in the coming years now that we’ve burned through a big chunk of the legacy aircraft built from around 1955 to 1985, especially since these planes are getting more expensive to maintain than ever. I don’t think that in 1957 anyone at Cessna thought that many of the first batch of new-delivery 172s, the small personal transportation and training plane which would over time become the most produced plane of any kind ever, would still be flying more than 60 years down the line. But they are.
The question is, what comes next? The problem is, no one knows. Not only does no one know, but the answers we’ve been hearing are strangely disconnected from reality. Urban air mobility a la George and Judy Jetson is a prominent example of these visions of future flight. Throw in all the high-tech spin you want, the best-case scenario is urban skies filled with slightly smaller and quieter helicopters. It’s a future that no one is asking for, and that has been created through a network of high-tech developers for whom the game isn’t making stuff happen but creating the expectation among funders that such a future is likely. If saying we’ll have cities full of flying cars in five years gets you a billion dollars in investment, well, just how much does one care if the vision is real. The only test is whether that vision is saleable.
At the same time as they’re entranced with future flight, investors aren’t investing in existing aerial mobility, aka, planes that people fly. It’s easy to see why, too. Building airplanes is a messy business, with huge demands of skilled labor, huge startup and manufacturing costs, steep, ongoing compliance responsibilities, and a small market for a product that benefits very little from economies of scale.
The joke (a two-part joke, at that) is on investors in future flight futures. While dreams are sweet and populated by puffy fair-weather clouds, if urban air mobility were to arrive as envisioned, that industry would be saddled with exactly the same kinds of costs as existing aircraft manufacturers, and then some, because while there are thousands of good, old-fashioned airports around the country, along with millions of miles of roads and rail, there are zero vertical skyports. The economics of building and operating such facilities in busy urban centers is breathtaking. And these vertical taxi stands won’t be a better way to get around town. They are likely to take longer and cost much more than existing modes, like cabs, buses, subways or private vehicles. And then figure in ongoing costs and profit potential from flying people around on short routes that might save them a few minutes’ time. And as soon as you charge more, the market goes south. And don’t forget that we’re only guessing at market demand for such services. We have existing transportation systems—the New York City subway system, run by the Metropolitan Transportation Authority, is looking for billions not to make improvements but to keep levels of service close to what they currently are.
Drones are another story, so long as they’re not carrying people. Amazon, among others, will likely start delivering packages using drones. Whether trials will ultimately prove a business case for such use is hard to say, but the FAA looks as though it’s down with the plan, and since the loss of life associated with drones is likely to be nil, we’ll at least get to see what comes of it. To be honest, I hate the idea of package toting copters buzzing around the neighborhood to drop off salad spinners and robotic vacuums. Leaf blowers are bad enough. But something has got to give. The great old planes we’ve been relying on for all these decades are going to have to be replaced. But what will replace them is unknown.
Electric aircraft are promising, so long as you circle the airport you just departed from. Battery life and charging intervals have got to improve in order for them to see anything resembling widespread adoption. Hybrids and hydrogen burners are perhaps more promising long run. We’ll have to wait and see.
But in order for these machines to sell at a profit, they are going to have to be affordable, both to buy and to operate. Both are arguably achievable goals, but only if the batteries are better.
In the meantime, GA will look very much as it does now. That is not, however, the ideal outcome. For aviation to grow and to prosper, we need new machines. Don’t forget that nearly all of the world’s light aircraft somehow made it to 2021 still largely dependent on burning just about the only leaded gasoline, 100 octane low-lead, left on the planet.
In the long run, we might wind up with some cool new planes, with remarkable safety and maneuverability capabilities, including vertical takeoff and landings, near-silent operation, extensive envelope protection and more, all of which is possible and all of which far outshine the 1940s tech that most of us live with.
I know that I can’t bear to even think of a future without personal airplanes in it. The good news is that nobody has floated an even remotely plausible alternative to our current air transportation system. That is, unfortunately, also the bad news, because we need to change, even if it’s just to be in control of where the shape of our national airspace systems lands, because we sure don’t want to trust the future of aerospace to Silicon Valley. PP
