5th April 2026
When fuel prices soar and budgets tighten, rural Scotland is always first on the chopping block
Wick John O'Groats Airport is more than a runway. It’s the last thread tying Caithness to the national economy.
But in the eyes of decision‑makers in Edinburgh and London, it’s a line on a spreadsheet a cost centre to be justified, defended, and periodically re‑explained to people who have never set foot north of Perth.
And now, with jet‑fuel prices exploding and public budgets tightening, the airport’s future is being squeezed between two political forces that have shaped rural Scotland for decades: centralisation and indifference.
A lifeline kept alive by political embarrassment, not strategy
Let’s be honest. Wick didn’t get its PSO because ministers suddenly discovered a passion for Caithness connectivity. It got it because the airport’s closure in 2020 was a political humiliation — a symbol of how fragile rural infrastructure becomes when left to market forces.
The PSO is a sticking plaster, not a plan. It keeps the Aberdeen route alive, but it doesn’t address the deeper issue: Scotland has no coherent strategy for regional aviation, and Westminster has even less interest in the subject.
Wick survives because it would be too embarrassing to let it die again. That’s not a sustainable foundation for a region’s future.
Jet‑fuel prices expose the truth: the market will never save Wick
With jet fuel now near $195 a barrel, small regional routes are being crushed. When you’re flying a 19‑seat turboprop, fuel isn’t a cost it’s the cost. And unlike big airports, Wick can’t hide behind volume.
Air Charter Scotland is strong enough to weather the storm. But the Wick route? It survives only because the public sector pays the difference between what it costs to fly and what passengers can afford.
That gap is widening. And every time it widens, Wick becomes an easier target for cuts.
Westminster and Holyrood - competing in the sport of rural neglect
The political dynamic is depressingly familiar.
Westminster sees regional aviation as a niche issue, irrelevant to the electoral map.
Holyrood talks about rural equity but continues to centralise services and investment.
Caithness is left to fight for scraps, forced to justify basic infrastructure that the Central Belt takes for granted.
Wick Airport is caught in the crossfire between two governments that both claim to care about rural Scotland but neither is willing to commit to long‑term, structural support.
The energy transition could save Wick if politicians stop dithering
The North Highlands is becoming a global energy hub: offshore wind, hydrogen, decommissioning, and the Green Freeport. Wick should be at the centre of that transformation.
But that requires political will not warm words.
If the airport becomes part of the region’s energy logistics, it has a future. If it remains a lightly used passenger terminal, it will be quietly wound down the next time a budget crisis hits.
The brutal reality: use it or lose it
This is the part no minister will say out loud:
If Caithness doesn’t use the airport, it will be shut down not because it’s unimportant, but because it’s politically convenient.
Wick will not be saved by market forces.
It will not be saved by fuel prices stabilising.
It will not be saved by "efficiency reviews."
It will be saved only if:
the community uses it,
the region demands it, and
politicians are forced to recognise that connectivity is a right, not a luxury.
The choice ahead
Wick Airport stands at a crossroads. One path leads to integration with the energy economy and long‑term security. The other leads to slow decline, reduced flights, and eventual closure.
And the decision won’t be made in Caithness.
It will be made in rooms far from Wick, by people who will never feel the consequences.
That’s why the message must be blunt:
Use it. Fight for it.
Or watch it disappear — again.