He's flying, but not the way you imagine the CEO of an airline flying.
Instead of sitting aboard a new blue-and-white jet in leather-upholstered comfort, David Neeleman is piloting a dirt-caked Chevy Tahoe, doing a Dale Earnhardt Jr. through the dark streets of Queens. It's five before 9, his night flight to Salt Lake City departs at 9:25, and Neeleman, the CEO of JetBlue Airways, is 15 minutes from the airport. You do the math.
"I hope we make it," he says with a laugh, gunning the Tahoe into an open lane. "If there's an accident up ahead, we might not."
He could have left the office earlier, but that's not like him. Or he could have left the driving to someone else, but he's not that kind of CEO. He may run an airline with more than 6,000 employees and 57 twin-engine jets, and he may be, as a new book about him claims, "arguably the most innovative figure in modern-day aviation." But he prefers to drive himself, just as he does every morning on the nearly hour-long commute from Connecticut. If the vehicle suggests anything, it's practicality; he and his wife, Vicki, have nine children. Kids' clothes litter the backseat. An empty water bottle rattles amid discarded newspaper pages in the foot well.
As Neeleman races toward John F. Kennedy Airport, darting and weaving through evening traffic, it's clear that he's doing what comes naturally and what he happens to do so well: flying by the seat of his pants.
It's worked pretty nicely so far. At a tough time for the U.S. economy, JetBlue has quite literally soared. While much of the airline industry was crippled by September 11, and while United Airlines and US Airways fell into bankruptcy, JetBlue has been a dramatic example of what can happen when the right entrepreneur with the right idea -- low fares and popular frills such as satellite TV and leather seats -- comes along at the right moment. Founded in 1999 and flying since 2000, JetBlue has put together 12 consecutive profitable quarters. It enjoys among the industry's best operating margins, the highest percentage of seats filled, and one of the top rates for on-time arrivals.
And Neeleman has an even grander flight plan for JetBlue: He aims to vault his startup airline into the ranks of the majors, with 290 planes and 25,000 employees within seven years. Although it hit almost $1 billion in revenue last year, JetBlue is still tiny compared with American Airlines, with $17.4 billion, or United, with $13.7 billion, or Delta, with $13.3 billion. And for all its meteoric growth, JetBlue still operates just 220 flights to 23 destinations a day. Compare that with industry leader American's 4,200 daily flights to 250 cities in 40 countries. Now JetBlue is about to embark on a steep climb: In the next 12 months, it expects to hire between 1,700 and 1,800 employees. It's introducing a new plane every three weeks -- and next year will be adding one every 10 days, including a second type of aircraft.
Clearly, Neeleman will have to fly by more than the seat of his pants. The airline industry is littered with great startup airlines that never made it to the big time, all founded by ambitious and imaginative people. Neeleman is already running a company bigger than anything he's ever run before, and its organizational and competitive issues are increasingly daunting. This is, of course, the test all entrepreneurs face if they're lucky enough: Can the genius that helped them create a successful company from nothing be redirected to the very different challenges of running a vast enterprise?
But there's a special twist in JetBlue's case. Much that's distinctive about this airline -- from the enthusiasm of its employees to its relentless customer focus to its hip, slightly countercultural image -- is precisely the sort of thing you can pull off when you're small, and that becomes far tougher the bigger you get. Can JetBlue maintain those qualities as it morphs from nimble startup into the bureaucracy that's required to manage a vastly more complex operation?
It's a question that applies to many truly innovative companies these days. Call them postmodern corporations, perhaps. If they pull off this transition, they become big, but remain in important ways the antithesis of bigness -- think Starbucks, Dell, and Amazon. Like JetBlue, they depend on flexibility, speed, and a sense of intimacy with employees and customers alike. Put another way, the challenge JetBlue now faces is this: Is small scalable?
As Neeleman rushes into the terminal on this February night, it sure looks as if the answer could be yes. JetBlue is still the sort of outfit where the ticket agents at JFK call out, "Hey, David!" It's 9:15, but there's no need to panic. There's a slight delay. On his way from ticketing through security to the gate, Neeleman takes his time, chatting almost nonstop with employees. It could come across as patronizing, all fake smiles, glib lines, noblesse oblige. The difference here is that the boss knows many of these employees by name. He asks about their job, their kids, a spouse undergoing chemo.