For countless air travelers who bemoan delays, cramped seats and stale pretzels, the idea that economic growth will center on the opportunities created through air travel might be laughable. Particularly since 9/11, flying has been wrought with tension and an ever-growing array of rules. Flying is, more than ever, an inconvenient convenience.
For John Kasarda, flying still holds that spark of innovation that reshaped commerce in the 20th century - and it will do so even further in the coming decades.
In "Aerotropolis: The Way We'll Live Next," Kasarda, a professor at UNC-Chapel Hill's Kenan-Flagler Business School, and coauthor Greg Lindsay predict that airports will be hubs for major cities, and not the other way around.
The book itself is an odyssey of staggering proportions, a whirlwind trip through cities from Detroit to Dubai.
Los Angeles and Chicago serve as cautionary tales of what happens when the airport must contend with infrastructure limitations and angry neighbors.
Washington, D.C., however, offers the first look at what happens when the airport comes first. Isolated and inconvenient when it was built in the late 1950s, Washington Dulles International Airport flourished after a wave of Defense Department construction in the area in the 1980s. Growth snowballed with the arrival of the Internet and America Online. No longer isolated, Dulles became a thrumming artery of international commerce.
The authors reinforce their point in less-glamorous Louisville, Ky., and Memphis, Tenn., which flourished when UPS and FedEx, respectively, brought new life - and jobs - to two fading cities.
"Over thirty years, each carrier has lured a galaxy of e-tailers, tech-repair geeks, orthopedic surgeons, and even drug kingpins into a slow rotation around their respective primary hubs," they write.
Thousands of jobs came as a result of the heavy-hitters who recognized that speed and connectivity translated into growth and competition.
The character sketch that emerges is that of an on-the-go executive who hops from city to city, collecting business cards and making deals in hotel conferences rooms, arriving at home (an upscale subdivision minutes from the airport) in time to coach Junior's Little League team on Thursday.
In the age of the telecommute, this lifestyle may sound like antiquated folly, but Kasarda pokes holes in that notion with his so-called Law of Connectivity: "Every technology meant to circumvent distances electronically, starting with the telegraph ... will only stoke our desire to traverse it ourselves." As evidence, he cites the steady climb of air travel over the past 10 years.
Kasarda's aerotropolis concept is nothing new. It percolated during his travels in the 1980s, culminating in a 2000 piece for the Urban Land Institute. That same year, the aerotropolis made its mainstream debut in The New York Times.
"Even cities with everything else going for them - from land to tax rates to infrastructure - can find their growth threatened by a lack of direct air service," The Times reported.
We need only look in our backyard for evidence of a prototype. Kasarda planted the seed in 1990 for the Global Transpark in Kinston. The authors chronicle the transpark's turbulent path - marked by failure to lure major names such as Boeing - with a matter-of-factness grounded in hindsight.
At turns defiant, cheeky and densely academic, "Aerotropolis" revels in a heady vision of a free-enterprise utopia built on mobility and trickle-down economics. It's easy to get lost in turgid chapters on African agribusiness and Dutch floral exports. But vibrant narratives of aerotropoli already blossoming worldwide help anchor Kasarda's work in reality. Time will tell whether the global economy will cooperate with his long-range vision.
