The future of flying cars remains conveniently out of reach.
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Perhaps this is my own problem. Every time I see a major publication do a feature on flying cars, I reconsider the benefits of the prepper lifestyle. A nice underground bunker, yes, far away from The Future and its terrifying temptations and all the dried meatloaf I can eat…
I myself am surprised by my hostility towards flying cars. I can't believe I'd be against something that would make my 14-year-old self lustful. But that's kind of the problem. Flying cars are ideal for a world designed by teenage boys. Or the techno-optimists of Silicon Valley (basically teenage boys with venture capital) who have decided that the future of our cities should be in the air.
Over the past decade or so, there has been a quiet arms race of investment and engineering among hundreds of startups, all trying to perfect the aircraft of the future. What is it used for? From delivering medical supplies in Africa to moving people through rural areas to moving soldiers in and out of combat zones, boosters can teach us all sorts of things.
These are all reasonable use cases and aren't something that would drive people underground. No, it's all about “air taxis” that is a problem for me. And maybe for you too, depending on your feelings about a bunch of giant drones (or small helicopters, if you prefer) constantly flying overhead.
Part of my complaint is that everything is treated like milquetoast.Sometimes like an outlet Los Angeles Times, new york times, washington post, USA Today, wall street journal, Or any of the dozens of large or small tech sites will ask some variation of the question, “When will flying cars arrive?”
This article will be an honest interview with the founder of one of the leading startups, somewhere in the Bay Area or in a warehouse in Silicon Valley, that has raised funding from the likes of Google's Larry Page. This paper explains how “flying cars” is a euphemism for what is called “advanced air mobility” and relates to the development and deployment of battery-powered, drone-like vehicles for transporting people and cargo. To do. These are known as “eVTOL,'' which stands for “electric vertical takeoff and landing.'' (Teenage boys and techno-optimists agree that they love acronyms.)
This story always provides an estimated timeline for the arrival of advanced air mobility. This timeline is always 2-3 years after general adoption, and sometimes more than 10 years after general adoption. jetsons must be called. blade runner is optional. About three-quarters of the way through the article, the author dutifully and quickly explains his obstacles such as FAA regulations, battery life, airspace congestion, and gravity. The story ends by reminding us of that timeline… Well, a few years, basically a lifetime — and lands on the closest thing to futurist optimism its writers and editors can muster. Here's how the NYT article sends us off.
They are more environmentally friendly and require less maintenance than helicopters. It will be at least a little quieter. And it may end up being cheaper. Someday they may be able to fly on their own.
“Can I do it tomorrow morning? Probably not,” Thrun said. But if you squint and look at one of these prototypes, he added, you can see that's what's happening.
These are great reporters and strong writers who approach a story with inspiration and then seem deflated, or at least overwhelmed. So why do these same stories keep playing out so regularly? Sure, startups' well-paid PR teams dangle support for test flights and baroque FAA developments. But it's actually because of the cultural illusions we have about the shape and direction of progress.
Science fiction writers of the early to mid-20th century (but going all the way back to HG Wells in the good old 19th century) tell of a future where the infrastructure of cities and the human body is cleansed and perfected by technology. Flying cars, robots, artificial intelligence, cities on Mars: these fantasies continue to inspire generations of engineers and wealthy utopians. They are people who look like characters in a speculative novel themselves, living vectors of irony that overlook the fact that science fiction writers intended their stories as dystopian critiques. When Mark Zuckerberg excitedly named his Facebook virtual reality project “Metaverse,” he was referring to Neal Stephenson's 1992 Nightmarish Digital Wilderness. snow crash. Although his VR vision of Zuck appears to have fallen apart, that reckless hat tip remains half-heartedly in the current company name.
Among the tech community, this forward-looking impulse has congealed into a kind of liberal frustration that past versions of the future have not materialized. Maybe it's because we're over-regulated assholes who prefer political correctness to mannish risk-taking. This frustration with a denied future is embodied in a man named J. Storrs Hall in his 2021 book. Where is my flying car?
It would appear that Hall's questions were answered (or “answered” in the informal manner typical of this type of reporting in general) in a lengthy article. new yorker “Are Flying Cars Finally Here?'' Author Gideon Lewis-Kraus argues that Hall's argument is that “As a society, we have lost our taste for Promethean ambitions. and a wave of suspicion about technology.'' Louis-Kraus then follows the formula of a more or less flying car story, visiting various warehouses and testing grounds of major corporations. An eccentric, engineering-minded, pioneering founder (always male). Since the mid-20th century, ambitions for flying cars have been postponed. Jetsons reference. A few notes.
Lewis-Kraus is a great cynical and critical writer who says that the alternative to flying cars rushing people to faraway Bay Area homes is that “we could build more housing in the Bay Area.'' He raises eyebrows at appropriate places, such as when he suggests this. But this and some other very valid criticisms are worked into the story and placed in brackets, rather than being framed as central to our understanding of whether or not this all works. That's why these stories not only seem to implicitly endorse technology, but also seem bland and vague. Because flying cars may not work. And if you don't talk about it, the story becomes bland and vague.
If I seem like a cranky person who thinks about this too much in an underground shipping container, it's because I do. In 2020, then-Los Angeles Mayor Eric Garcetti announced the Urban Air Mobility (UAM) partnership to “deploy low-noise electric aircraft flying in local airspace by 2023.” (Deadlines came and went.) He reported a series of articles for KCRW, including I Delivery Drones, the Futurist Myth of the Jetsons, and Why Flying Cars Won't Solve Transportation Problems.
Two and a half years later, here we are, with the future still looking out of reach, appealing to investors, founders, and journalists looking to hunker down without dealing with the consequences. . Like Louis Krauss, everyone just makes a gesture with “all the promises.”
At the 2028 Summer Olympics in Los Angeles, athletes could be flown from their villages to the stadiums. Ordinary civilians, at least the brave ones among them, will have access to such services by the end of the decade. One company promises a seven-minute trip from Manhattan to the airport and hopes to land in a safe location. Seat prices will eventually be able to compete with ride-sharing. Proponents envision a cheap, sustainable air transportation system interwoven with ribbons of vehicles humming overhead.
With apologies for putting off the criticism until later in my talk (I think I warned you), let's take a look at the paradox of the urban flying car vision.
“They’re working on it!” They’ve been telling us since 1958. Photo credit: Jim Griffin / Flickr (CC0 1.0 DEED)
The consensus is that air taxis are expensive for the first…year. 2 years? Unclear. That is, it will become another luxury for the wealthy to fly around disgustingly and contemptuously over the rest of the population. but! boosters say, Eventually, prices will come down and everyone will be able to fly.
Now, it's democratized. What does that mean? Today, there are thousands or tens of thousands of vehicles in relatively pristine airspace.
But you might think that would reduce traffic, right? The history of surface highways suggests otherwise.
Transportation researchers have thoroughly documented something called induced demand. In other words, adding more lanes improves traffic in the short term, but as people get used to the improved conditions, they start using the traffic more.Now I just More lanes becoming congested. If Urban Air Mobility (UAM, another acronym) becomes as “easy” and “affordable” as a regular car, then at some point the skies will become congested, and so will the roads. is reasonable. Same below, same above. (We haven't even mentioned the “vertiports” scattered throughout the city that serve as hubs for these vehicles, which have their own land use and transportation problems.)
One study estimated that air mobility in urban areas “does not reduce travel times” and is “likely to remain a niche mode of transport for special purposes” such as emergency vehicles and rural routes. ing. The flying car set is marketing urban air mobility as a way to solve age-old problems on the ground. However, it is not a fundamental solution. It's about abandoning it for greener skies…or whatever.
Flying car futurists dismiss all these criticisms as little more than the kind of myopia that undermined U.S. nuclear power in the 1970s, or as a failure to foresee the popularity of modern commercial air travel. are doing. But while nuclear power is a fundamentally different energy paradigm than fossil fuels, a flying car is just a car, in a different location. And civil aviation works because, although UAM proponents don't mention this, it's just a more expensive type of public transportation.
The most futuristic application I can think of is new yorkThe story is that urban air mobility offers an exciting new future for the midlife crisis. Customers who are “white, over 50, and male'' choose flying cars over Corvettes for “surveying vineyards'' or “commuting.'' It's dozens of miles from the ranch to the manufacturing plant. ”
Louis-Kraus' story revolutionizes the flying car genre. Because Louis-Kraus teases and then delivers on a climactic solo flight in a flying car called the Blackfly for some reason. What makes me so angry is that he is doing something that is unforgivable. he makes it look great.
Once level, the propeller quieted down to a much softer hum, giving a sense of lightness and agility in the air. Below me was a muddy pond, a shimmering pattern of water and grass, and a herd of black cattle. I took a slow, long, winding climb up the base of the hill, and the machine felt alive to the touch.
But now I realize that if Cruise hadn't been disabled, I would have been pushing the ship as fast as I could. I would have flown towards the hills and the sky and never returned. I would still be there.
Damn you! I want to get out of the bunker and try it.
In any case, expect to see more coverage of this particular brand as this year's Paris Summer Olympics approaches. The Olympic Games have traditionally been held from the first televised sporting event at the 1936 Berlin Games to the Tokyo 2021 Games, which have given rise to conspiracy theories that they were designed to protect the health of athletes. It's a place to introduce exciting new technology to the world, from cardboard beds. sex.
The flying car lobby knows this, which is why stories keep popping up about air taxis transporting people around Paris. But the truth of the genre is that European regulations are unlikely to give the green light for the flight. In other words, the future will remain comfortably out of reach for a little while longer. 2 years. Maybe three. If not, there's always the 2028 Olympics. It's…let me just check my notes…it's going to be here in Los Angeles. Save the meatloaf.
*who why why Our policy is to avoid creating AI images for all news content. However, for this column and others on similar topics, we believe it is an appropriate way to take into account the changing landscape of media and technology.
