The last place people still read books?

On airport bookstores and our mile-high reading habits

I like airports.

I like their clean efficiency. I like their liminality and sense of possibility. Most of all, I like how they form their own little worlds. Airport-land has different rules and customs from the world outside.

Whenever I fly, I make time for my cozy airport routine. I arrive early and buy a chocolate croissant and a magazine to read at the gate. On my recent trip to Denver, I picked up MIT Technology Review (I didn’t even know they had a print edition!). I happily paged through it, dropping flaky pastry crumbs into the gutter.

I don’t usually read magazines — it’s 2025, after all. But I’ve always made an exception when I fly, loading up on copies of National Geographic and Psychology Today before boarding. It’s a treat, a distraction, a bit of nostalgia, something to look forward to on a stressful day of traveling.

On this trip, I glanced up from the Technology Review and noticed I wasn’t the only one treating myself. Everywhere I looked, people were reading. Not just magazines and newspapers, but physical books. Many were brand-new, with stickers from the airport bookstores still glued to the covers.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen so many people reading in public. Teenagers were reading YA novels, and men in business suits were flipping through thrillers. These were the kinds of people I’d expect to be doomscrolling (forgive me for stereotyping a little). I bet they’d be on their phones while waiting anywhere else.

This got me wondering — what was it about flying? Why did long layovers, cramped economy chairs, and tiny bags of pretzels turn people into readers?

The nostalgia factor

Like I said, magazines aren’t usually my thing. I grew up subscribing to American Girl and National Geographic Kids, but that was a long time ago. My younger self had no idea that when she skipped back from the mailbox, shiny new magazines in hand, she was witnessing the end of an era.

I’ve tried reading magazines as an adult. When The New Yorker went on sale, I subscribed and received an edition every week for two months.

Honestly, I didn’t read them. My reading habits had simply changed too much. I didn’t know where to squeeze a magazine between my library books, self-education goals, and digital newsletters. I kept those issues until they acquired a thick layer of dust before chucking them in the recycling bin, guilt twisting in my belly. 

So, why do I buy magazines at airports?

The answer is simple — because I read on planes as a kid. I remember traveling with my family, and my mother letting me pick out any two magazines I wanted. Back then, there were many more magazines to choose from, and I’d happily sort through them until it was time to board. Looking back, I think this was my mother’s way of keeping me out of trouble.

I remember those childhood adventures whenever I visit an airport bookshop and browse the ever-shrinking magazine selection. I buy magazines out of habit and nostalgia. If I’m at an airport, I’m going to buy a magazine. That’s just what I do.

Other people might read on planes for the same reason. Especially if you don’t fly often, you might have an older model for the experience. Did you visit airport bookstores as a kid? Or, did your parents make a big deal out of reading while you traveled? Maybe your mom took you to the library to pick out something to read on the plane.

These memories stay with us, and we keep the habits we acquired decades ago. I’ll probably keep buying magazines as long as airport bookstores sell them.

Mile-high beach reads

The bookstore at the Raleigh-Durham airport is tiny. It’s not even a full bookstore, crammed into the corner of an Ink by Hudson. The shop displayed earbuds and Tylenol on the left side of the store and books on the right. I counted five floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and a couple of table displays — not exactly the Library of Alexandria.

With limited shelf space, the books a seller chooses to stock are telling. Most of that precious space went to bestsellers and genre fiction, especially YA, thrillers, and romance novels. I also found a healthy selection of “dad books” — biography and popular history titles.

I think of these as “beach reads.” I’m using the term loosely here — it’s the kind of book people read on vacation. A little self-indulgent, maybe even pulpy. Books you read for entertainment or to pass the time. Not the sort of thing you’d admit to your book club you’re reading. But who’s going to tell on you — the flight attendant?

If you’re traveling for fun, the airport becomes part of the vacation. You’re probably already sliding into a mindset of cutting loose and pampering yourself. What better way to do that than with the latest BookTok craze?

The flip side is if you’re not traveling for fun. Airports can be stressful, and maybe you're not looking forward to your destination. A business conference, a funeral, an awkward family reunion — these are all reasons to reach for a bit of distraction.

“You can take a book with you.”

Was it possible I was just overthinking it? Like many people who read too much, I love to complicate things. Maybe there was a simple answer to the airport reading phenomenon — and I knew just who to ask!

It so happens that my flight attendant friend lives in Denver. She agreed with my overall observation — yes, people read more at the airport and on planes than they do anywhere else. In her professional opinion, why was that?

“People read on airplanes as a matter of necessity,” she said. Some customers don’t want to pay for wi-fi, and smaller planes might not offer it. Sometimes, there aren’t enough working outlets to charge everyone’s devices. (Customers can get pissy about this, so she would know.)

“As long as air travel exists, having something that doesn’t require a battery is essential,” she said. Imagine boarding an eight-hour flight only to realize you can’t charge your phone! You’ll never have that problem with a paper-and-ink book.

On my way home, I interviewed an employee at the Tattered Cover, the bookstore in Concourse A of the Denver airport (my flight attendant friend informed me that there’s one in every terminal). People from all over the world bought books from his shop when they could watch movies on their phones instead. Why was that?

“You can take a book with you,” he said. A digital device always comes with uncertainty — battery life, signal strength, and storage issues. Wherever you’re going, you can keep reading. That’s a guarantee.

Besides, “not everyone likes movies,” he said.

I couldn’t argue with that.

Traveling is filled with unknowns, a thousand tiny things outside your control. You can worry and plan for every contingency, or accept this fact of life. Reading a book means embracing the uncertainty. You know that no matter what happens — a delay, a broken outlet, or a long car rental line — you’ll be fine.

I’d rather have one book I know I can read than 100 on a Kindle with limited battery life.

Plot twists

Both bookstores I visited had dedicated displays for Harvard Business Review titles. The Raleigh store gave them a bookcase to themselves — approximately 20% of their entire inventory!

Clearly, these books were popular. But when I looked around, I couldn’t find a single person reading one.

Without any wild readers to observe, I imagined who those HBR buyers might be:

I pictured a businessman on his way to a conference. Wearing his suit so it wouldn't wrinkle in his suitcase, he stopped by the bookstore for some in-flight entertainment. The HBR display called to him. He leafed through several before finding The Year in Tech - 2025, the very topic of his conference! He bought the book to brush up on the plane. When he arrived at the conference center, he would be ready to discuss the ins and outs of emerging tech with everyone he met.

This was speculation on my part, but it seemed reasonable. After all, people bought the French Rosetta Stone course on their way to France. Wasn’t this similar?

To test my hypothesis, I asked the Tattered Cover employee about his HBR display.

“Oh, those?” he said. “People love HBR books.” They were well-written, and “a good size,” so plenty of people bought them. He hadn’t noticed any other pattern.

“Although, there’s a priest who always buys them,” he said.

“What?” I said, thinking I’d misheard.

“Yeah, there’s this priest who comes through here a lot. He always buys one,” the employee said.

So, now I know who my HBR reader is — not an enterprising businessman, but a priest in a stiff clerical collar. I wonder where he flew and what he thought of The Year in Tech.