The kerosene scented euphoria emanating from Exeter Airport this week deserves a brisk downwind reality check. Management is popping corks over a 28% surge in summer passengers, crowing about crossing half a million travelers annually for the first time since Flybe flamed out spectacularly in 2020. Stephen Wiltshire, the airport's managing director, beams about European routes returning and TUI parking spare planes in Devon like they've discovered perpetual motion. One almost expects confetti cannons filled with duty free perfume samples at this triumph of hope over aviation economics.

But let's park the corporate champagne. Regional airports like Exeter operate in a parallel universe where modest gains warrant ticker tape parades. No one begrudges a bit of optimism after Flybe vaporized 64% of their traffic overnight. Yet declaring victory because 450,000 souls squeezed through security between April and October reveals how pathetically the bar has been lowered. Pre pandemic, Exeter handled over 900,000 passengers annually. Celebrating 500,000 as some historic milestone is like Tesco announcing record profits after closing half its stores.

The real story here isn't growth but surrender. Surrender to the brute truth that regional aviation survives only through artificial respiration. Exeter's alleged recovery leans entirely on other people's planes and other people's leisure budgets. TUI's decision to base a second aircraft there says nothing about Exeter's inherent strengths and everything about easyJet hoovering up all viable slots at Gatwick. Sunseekers flocking to Malaga via Ryanair isn't a business model, it's a Hail Mary pass in hurricane winds.

What makes this theater particularly galling is the willful amnesia about why Flybe failed in the first place. The airline didn't collapse because routes were unviable, though that helped. It collapsed because regional aviation depends on three unsustainable crutches: public subsidies, environmental blindness, and workforce exploitation. Exeter glosses over reports that Southwest councils quietly propped up flights through taxpayer funded route guarantees. They ignore the carbon math showing one fully loaded A320 to Amsterdam emits 40 times more CO2 per passenger than the same journey by rail, if rail infrastructure existed west of Reading. They sidestep how ground crews earn less than supermarket cashiers while executives toast capacity illusions.

These contradictions matter because Exeter isn't an outlier. It's a test case for whether Britain cares about viable regional transport or just enjoys airports as expensive security theatre. Consider that since 2020, UK regional airports have soaked up over £100 million in direct government subsidies and tax breaks, Exeter included. That's on top of industrial scale VAT exemptions for international flights. Meanwhile, Manchester Airports Group sued the government for £70 million claiming Covid restrictions hurt their monopoly. These aren't plucky underdogs. They're subsidized fat cats playing house with public money.

Wiltshire nods dutifully to Bristol Airport's shadow, positioning Exeter as the underdog stealing customers from its bigger neighbor. This flatters neither party. Bristol suffers chronic planning disputes over expansion, processing over 9 million passengers annually with worse carbon efficiency than Heathrow. Exeter scraping 500,000 by poaching Bristol'overflow is like Pret boasting they took customers from Starbucks when both were in a food court. The whole Southwest aviation market stinks of desperation dressed as progress.

Dig deeper into schedule filings and Exeter'growth story unravels faster than Ryanair'checked baggage policy. Ninety three percent of passenger traffic between April and October came from just two airlines: TUI and Ryanair. Both prioritize leisure routes prone to collapsing when disposable incomes shrink. Neither offers meaningful business connectivity. Amsterdam may earn polite applause, but it's no substitute for Flybe'old links to Manchester, Edinburgh, and Belfast. Regional airports pretending they're thriving while relying purely on fortnightly sunshine charters are building castles on sand, with predictable results when the tide rises.

Human impact gets lost in this pageantry. Workers juggling zero hours contracts see none of these headline figures translate to stable wages. Local residents endure noise pollution for flights carrying tourists who barely spend a pound in Exeter before buses whisk them to Cornish resorts. Investors left holding Flybe shares find no comfort in TUI's placeholder planes. Even environmental accountability gets punted down the runway. Exeter mentions sustainability trials, but declines to share data on whether biofuel blends actually reduce emissions or simply greenwash aviation kerosene.

Perhaps most insidious is how Exeter frames success. By trumpeting passenger counts instead of route diversity, cargo volumes, or profitability, they reinforce aviation's delusional metrics. What good is moving more people if those movements hemorrhage money, trash the climate, and depend entirely on subsidies? If Cornwall Airport Newquay teaches anything, it's that chasing passenger records without economic integrity leads to ghost terminals maintained by municipal pride. Exeter even reinstates Amsterdam flights just as Schiphol caps movements to curb pollution, timing that suggests strategy devised flipping a euro coin.

Let's not allow reality to spoil the party. TUI's extra plane means maybe 30 new jobs and fleeting prestige. Ryanair squeezing more bodies onto Malaga flights boosts landing fees Exeter desperately needs. But let's call this what it is: a palliative heartbeat, not a cure. True regional aviation requires long term thinking, integrated transport partnerships, and yes, admitting some airports will never justify their existence in a decarbonizing world. Until then, 28% growth just means we're 28% deeper into denial.