There's a danger of working onesself into a state of depression over this topic. Maybe we should step back and look at it in its broader context.
When I was in college, in the late 1970s, I had a part-time job working in a local hobby shop in Columbus, Ohio. (Strete Hobbies, on Sullivant Ave. I think it's still there; I'm the one that left.) It was a fun place to work and hang out, most of the time. The owner was primarily a model railroader, but he understood aircraft, armor, figure, and ship modeling well enough to keep a pretty well-stocked store. On any evening, unless the weather was lousy, five or six modeling enthusiasts could be found in the store, spending modest amounts of money, drinking coffee, telling slightly off-color jokes, and mostly talking. Talking not only about models, but about history, current events, and all sorts of other stuff, some of which couldn't be discussed in this Forum.
The customers included several guys who worked at the nearby GM plant, a railroad engineer, an x-ray technician, a high school chemistry teacher, two linemen from the utility company, a couple of clergymen, a fair number of college students, a bank officer, a computer expert from the Rockwell aircraft plant, two auto mechanics, several university professors, quite a few retired folks, and lots and lots of kids. I remember thinking at the time how lucky I was to be associating with such a group of people. I'm convinced that working in that store served as an invaluable counterbalance to the university crowd, among whom I had to spend my official working hours.
Hanging out with that diverse collection of nuts also, I'm convinced, made me a better modeler. My primary interest has always been ship models, but that hobby shop got me acquainted, at least, with all sorts of modeling. I learned that ship modelers have a great deal to learn from model railroaders, armor modelers, aircraft modelers, figure painters, and insect collectors. (Insect pins are great for all sorts of jobs in ship modeling. And microscope slides come in handy now and then.)
There was a widespread consensus in those days that we were witnessing the last days of the serious, adult-oriented plastic kit. American and British kit manufacturers were going out of business (these were the last days of Aurora and Frog), and the surviving ones were edging away from serious scale models. It was taken for granted that World War I, as a modeling subject, was dead. (The hobby shop crowd practically mutinied when Monogram's "Snoopy and His Sopwith Camel" came out. And I staged my own private protest when Revell issued its lighted, animated, and extremely crude Goodyear Blimp. The company sent us a finished example, complete with moving signs, for the window. I changed the lettering on it to read "Goodrich.") We thought we were practitioners of a dying hobby.
Well, we were wrong. The hobby looks a great deal different now than it did then, but it not only survived - in many ways it got better. In 1978 the typical 1/72-scale fighter kit cost two dollars or thereabouts. It contained about twenty parts. The surface detail consisted of raised lines and ridiculously over-scale rivets. The wheel wells were holes in the bottom wing halves. The trailing edges of the wings were several scale inches thick - as was the canopy. The cockpit detail consisted of a seat, something vaguely resembling a human being to set on it, and, if the kit was really state-of-the-art, an instrument panel. Nowadays the latest 1/72-scale masterpiece from Hasegawa or Tamiya costs more than ten bucks. And it typically has more and better detail than the typical 1/32-scale kit did in the seventies.
And take a look at the ranges of WWI kits from Roden, Blue Max, Dragon (no longer in production, I guess, but still fairly common on the shelves), and Eduard. In 1980 the only Fokker D-VII kits were the 1/72 one from Revell (not bad) and the toylike 1/48 Aurora one. Now there are at least a dozen D-VIIs in the catalog - in all the popular scales, featuring all the permutations of louvers on the cowling panels. There are even (gasp) a few WWI SHIP kits! Pinch me; I must be dreaming.
In those days a modeler had two sources for kits: the hobby shop or Squadron mail order. The latter gave pretty good service, but you had to figure on waiting a week for your order to get there and the merchandise to get back. The selection of aftermarket parts consisted of several notebooks full of decal sheets.
The local hobby shop, except in the big cities, does seem to be a dying species at the moment - for good and sound reasons. If I were younger and looking for a career and an investment opportunity, there's no way I'd even consider opening a hobby shop. For one thing, the sheer volume of merchandise available now is such that a store like the one where I used to work couldn't begin to maintain a reasonable percentage of it in stock. (Can you imagine how much money a store would have to invest in order to keep up with all the stuff being released by Eduard and Verlinden - just to name two?) And the internet seems to be revolutionizing the business. My wife can testify that I spend a ridiculous amount of time surfing it every day, and I buy quite a bit of stuff through it. I think it's one of the greatest things that have ever happened to modeling. But if I owned a hobby shop the internet would drive me crazy.
I think scale modeling, in one form or another, is here to stay. I hesitate to predict what the hobby will look like twenty years from now. What worries me most about it is the shortage of kids getting into it. The web is a great source of information and merchandise, but, as fargoth implies, it's not so good at mentoring. Three cheers for his efforts to get his kids into the hobby - and get them interested in history.
Those of us who care about the future of modeling would do well to look for opportunities to get kids into it. The ship model club of which I'm a member, the Carolina Maritime Modelers Society holds an annual event at the North Carolina Maritime Museum in Beaufort. (We also hold our meetings there - last Saturday of each month at 2:00; new members and visitors always welcome.) In conjunction with the museum's annual Wooden Boat Show every May we stage an exhibition of models, which is open to the public. In one corner of the hall we set up a big table stocked with extremely simple boat model kits. (The guys in the museum's boat shop make them on the bandsaw, using scrap lumber.) Two dollars will get a kid a six-inch-long fishing trawler, along with the assistance of a veteran modeler to help build it and all the necessary tools and materials (i.e., a bottle of Elmer's glue and some felt-tip pens). Average time expended on the model: fifteen minutes. Typical reaction to the experience: sheer ecstasy.
End of rant. If all of us will spend a little less time typing dumb web posts like this one and a little more time encouraging youngsters to build models, maybe we can save our hobby - if not western civilization.