“Far back in the mists of ancient time, in the great and glorious days of the former Galactic Empire, life was wild, rich and largely tax free. Mighty starships plied their way between exotic suns, seeking adventure and reward among the farthest reaches of Galactic space. In those days spirits were brave, the stakes were high, men were real men, women were real women and small furry creatures from Alpha Centauri were real small furry creatures from Alpha Centauri. And all dared to brave unknown terrors, to do mighty deeds, to boldly split infinitives that no man had split before—and thus was the Empire forged.”

                               Douglas Adams, from “The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy”

            Let’s face it. Most of us have been around aviation for a while. People high up in both Piper and Cessna Aircraft have told me that the average minimum age of the people who buy their products is 50.

            Apparently, younger pilots who normally would be interested in buying a new airplane are busy raising families, worrying about their jobs, driving the kids to soccer practice and trying to keep the van gassed up and insured.

            Paying around two hundred grand—minimum—for a new airplane simply isn’t on a young pilot’s radar. Besides, even with the new LSAs, aviation is a convoluted, rule-riddled, expensive proposition.

            Given those facts, why is General Aviation doing so well right now and how do we manage to get it to continue? I think it is a matter of world war, the economy, personal priorities, and as always, money.

Baby Boom Pilots

Many thousands of pilots were trained during World War II and when they returned, many of them wanted to continue flying. The postwar world had few airline job openings for veterans, and General Aviation aircraft (unless they had a military application) hadn’t been built since before the conflict. This lead to a postwar aviation boom which lasted into the mid-1960s.

            As these World War II pilots got old, retired from flying and died, their progeny took up the reins and flew on. These kids were propelled by memories of their dads’ adventures and the flights he took them on. Many in this younger generation were also ex-military, and were trained by the government through VA flight schools after they returned from “our” war: Vietnam.

            Now we are the old guys—and the lucky few of us who can cough up half a million bucks are flying the new GPS-driven aircraft that Piper and Cessna are currently offering.

As we continue to head toward that big tie-down spot in the sky, I think that General Aviation is due for a major shift in focus. I think the shift should be away from providing aircraft with more and more technology and automation back to basic aircraft that are affordable, low-tech and plentiful.

            I am referring, of course, to making flying exciting and fun again for young people.

We have to make flying young again

            Light sport flying has been a good first step in that direction, but I think that the LSA manufacturers are missing the mark by a wide margin. They are selling their product to the wrong people.

They are still trying to sell to us, the old guys.

            Piper Cub look-alikes are being sold. These are soloed from the front seat and have wide doors so we geezers can squeeze our ever-widening bums through the opening into the cockpit.

            Once we finally cram our butts into the planes, we are happily boggled with magic GPS boxes, electric starters and ballistic parachutes that will land us softer than a Medicare-provided wheelchair if we screw the pooch.

            Some light sport aircraft companies even dress up their salespeople in 1930s and 1940s garb to attract the “geezer pilot” crowd. They are actually dressing airplane sales guys up like our dear old dead daddies—to sell us a copy of a Cub!

            This nostalgic marketing ploy isn’t just the domain of the faux Piper crowd. Cessna displayed their first production SkyCatcher at Oshkosh this year—directly in front of an old, but beautifully rebuilt, Cessna 150. Again, we old guys could reminisce about those great days flying the “Commuter”—when we had hair, bell-bottom jeans and could fill up Dad’s car for only 39 cents a gallon.

            The trouble I found at the Cessna display was that there were far more old guys like me gathered around the Cessna 150 wondering where we could buy one of those. After all, a new SkyCatcher goes for over a hundred grand, when you can get a good used Cessna 150 for twenty-five.

The kids need a break

            The Experimental Aircraft Association’s Young Eagles program is a great way to introduce kids to flying, but won’t get the job done when these eager youngsters run up against the economic realities of aviation life.

            While EAA AirVenture in Oshkosh is a great indication of the public’s interest in General Aviation, it is a poor indicator of how many of those people will be willing in the future to plunk down the kind of money necessary to make them aircraft owners. After all, every person spending money to attend Oshkosh on a given summer day is one less person at the local airport spending the same money to fly.

            Big fly-ins are great, such as they are, but they are more an industry show than a true reflection of the future generation of pilots that have to be groomed, trained and sold on the idea and magic of flying.

            My opinion on the whole thing is this: it isn’t a question of how big Cessna and Piper are going to be in the next generation, it is a question of whether or not there will be a Piper or Cessna extant in the world.

            The same goes for the dozens of light sport manufacturers who have sexy products but can’t seem to produce them in sufficient quantity (or in some cases, at all) for the upcoming generation to sink their teeth into. Trust me, when you are in your 20s, plunking down ten grand and then waiting two years for your airplane is not an option.

I may need reading glasses but I still use big words

            Being a geezer myself has led to a certain amount of aviation presbyopia, but I think I have a few comments and ideas that might help.

            First, we have to ask if General Aviation as we know it now is worth saving. (I think it is, but like I said, I am old.) Newer, younger pilots and consumers will have to decide if a thousand-dollar hamburger is worth pursuing. If people have learned to meet and travel via web conferencing and god knows what else is coming along, they may not see the necessity of owning a Lear or a Caravan to go to business meetings.

            Fuel prices and the free market have already cut back on people traveling and flying. At our local field, the people who routinely took their Senecas and Barons out for a Sunday flight are now leaving them in the hangar. There is a thin layer of the very rich who have no problem burning six-dollar-a-gallon Jet-A in their airplanes, but they won’t be enough to keep Piper and Cessna in business.

            I think the answer lies in the light sport part of the industry. It is the answer all right, but it is being grievously mishandled.

            I have searched diligently in my middle-American location and after looking at over a dozen airports, I only found one place where they train in and rent light sport aircraft. That particular school seemed shocked that I would even ask. They said that they might be able to rent me a light sport for $110 an hour, but scheduling would be a problem.

Other than that sad little clueless flight school, there is nowhere in my area that you can rent or take lessons in an airplane newer than the 1977 model year, or for less than $180 for an hour of dual.

            Current flight schools and FBOs find that capitalizing new airplanes is almost impossible. That is why most of them still offer very old and musty Cherokees, 172s and 150s to train in and rent. They are literally offering the younger pilots the exact same airplanes we trained in. Not just the same types—I mean the exact airplanes! A recent search I made of the FAA database led to the discovery that the Cessna 150 I soloed in back in 1971 is still being operated by a flight school. Imagine that.

You can’t move into the future by re-selling the past

            The light sport manufacturers must find a way to get their airplanes to the younger public. They need to quit dressing like they are from the Great Depression and appeal to the younger people. This can be done by having inexpensive and most importantly, available light sports offered for a reasonable price.

            The way to make the price reasonable is to sell them as fractionals, partnerships, or to flying clubs, and to create flight schools that look less like the run-down, worn out old flight schools we trained in, and more like a Starbucks outlet—with cool little affordable airplanes.

            Flying clubs should be more than a dusty T-hangar office or a spare room in the back of an FBO. They should provide child care, have great food, be clean and make flying something an up-and-coming young professional would be eager to take his or her family to for a flight and a fun day out.

            The old days were great; I wouldn’t have missed a one of them. But it is time to prepare our handoff of flying to the younger generation. Let’s hand them something better than a million-dollar-a-copy reprint of 1950s technology and thinking.