When I was in fourth grade, my science class embarked on a project that I’ll never forget—a paper airplane competition. Our teacher laid out the categories: appearance, size, and, most importantly, distance. While some of my classmates were carefully crafting colorful, swooping creations designed to dazzle the judges with their aesthetic charm, I had my eyes on one thing: winning the distance category.
My secret weapon? A brown piece of construction paper. Not white, not neon—brown. It had a sturdy feel that promised strength and power, not just elegance. I folded a narrow, ridged body with laser focus, forming an aerodynamic masterpiece that was simple, utilitarian, and built for speed. I wasn’t aiming for flair—I was aiming for flight.
When launch time came, I hurled my plane forward with all the confidence of a fourth-grade aerospace engineer. The result? A spectacular flight that sailed well past 35, maybe even 40 feet. My plane outflew the competition by a landslide. The look on my teacher’s face said, “Well, I wasn’t expecting that,” while my classmates could only watch in awe. I was thrilled.
That brown construction paper plane became the stuff of legend (well, in my own mind, anyway). It was a design I continued to make for years—an old favorite I even passed down to my kids, teaching them my “secret schematics.” For decades, it held a kind of mythic status in my mind. And then, one fateful day, I watched a video featuring John Collins, “The Paper Airplane Guy.”
The World Record Holder’s Secret Formula
John Collins is more than a guy who makes cool paper airplanes—he’s an aerodynamics wizard. In 2012, he designed a paper airplane that set the Guinness World Record for distance. And the kicker? It wasn’t a “throw-it-and-hope” situation. Collins’ approach is meticulously engineered, designed to squeeze every last ounce of potential out of a single sheet of paper. His plane, dubbed “The Suzanne” (named after his wife), soared an astonishing 226 feet, 10 inches. To put that into perspective: that’s nearly the length of a football field.
Of course, there’s more to this story. Collins didn’t just fold the plane and toss it himself—he enlisted a former college quarterback, Joe Ayoob, to handle the throw. Ayoob’s powerful yet precise arm turned Collins’ design into a record-breaking marvel.
What Makes Collins’ Design So Special?
Unlike my trusty fourth-grade champion with its sturdy, ridged body, Collins’ record-breaking plane is built for glide efficiency. Instead of relying on weight or narrow precision, “The Suzanne” focuses on balance and lift. Here’s a breakdown of what makes it special:
- Wide Wingspan: Collins’ plane has a broad, flat structure designed to catch the air and maintain altitude longer.
- Precise Folds: The folds are perfectly aligned for aerodynamic symmetry—no rogue paper creases allowed!
- Throwing Technique: The throw is crucial. Collins trained Ayoob to launch with an upward angle to maximize glide time rather than brute force.
Why Does This Matter?
Watching Collins’ video was humbling—but also inspiring. It reminded me that even the simplest childhood joys, like folding a paper airplane, can be taken to extraordinary levels with curiosity and dedication. His record wasn’t just about breaking a number—it was about rethinking the way we approach something as ordinary as a folded piece of paper.
Can You Build a Record-Breaking Plane?
If you’re ready to channel your inner aerospace engineer, here are a few key takeaways from Collins’ method:
- Choose the Right Paper: Regular printer paper works best. Construction paper (as much as I still love it) is heavier and tends to nosedive.
- Fold Precisely: Any asymmetry in the wings or body will send your plane veering off course.
- Perfect Your Throw: Don’t chuck it like you’re playing dodgeball. Aim for a high, smooth arc that gives your plane time to glide.
Passing the Torch
I’ll always cherish that brown construction paper plane and the memory of its triumphant flight. But learning about John Collins’ record-breaking design was a reminder that there’s always more to discover. Even after 30-ish years, I’m still improving my paper airplane skills and teaching my kids new techniques. They’ve taken what I’ve taught them and started experimenting—though none of us have thrown a plane over 226 feet yet. (Maybe I need to recruit a quarterback.)
So, if you’ve ever thought that paper airplanes were just child’s play, think again. There’s a whole world of engineering, physics, and fun in those folds. Who knows—maybe the next world record holder is sitting at their kitchen table right now, folding up a dream.
J. Lee Austin
January 14, 2025 at 11:02 amGreat story, even better message! And as I like to say, “Let’s Go Flying!”
Keep up the good work!
~~ j ~~