The rollercoaster index: How ambitious new theme parks reflect economic ups and downs

Remember when Jim fixed it for Sutton St Mary's Cub Scouts to eat their lunch on Blackpool's Revolution? But rollercoasters don't just offer base thrills to kids (and big kids). They are stark statements of intent; unwitting symbols of a country's ambitions and economic prowess.

The United States has been at the peak of the rollercoaster game since Disneyland opened on orange groves outside Los Angeles in 1955. The ever-increasing size, speed and spread of US rollercoasters in the latter half of the 20th century asserted the primacy of American pleasure in the same way as the skyscrapers of Midtown Manhattan asserted the primacy of American capital in the first half of that century.

Now the world's most famous architects build theme parks: Frank Gehry designed Disneyland's back offices. Rollercoasters fetishise railways – their steel gigantism crows about the might of industrial society. They subvert the utility of the form, tricking boring physics into playing games with our senses. The quest to build bigger, longer, faster coasters is constant. "Most record-breaking rollercoasters have been built in the US," Robert Coker, author of A Thrill Seeker's Guide To The Ultimate Scream Machines, says. "But Japan boasts several record-breakers, and China is building enormous coasters at a frantic pace."

This architecture of excitement, predicated on sinuous slithers of track stretched into awesome shapes to better scare the living daylights out of us, is rising in the East. "The development of new coasters in emerging economies is significant," Robert Niles, editor of Themeparkinsider.com, says. "It shows these economies have developed a middle class to support discretionary tourism."

Colleen Mangone, from the International Association of Amusement Parks and Attractions, confirms that "the attractions industry is experiencing tremendous growth in Asia". Take the £23m Takabisha (high-flying car) that opened last year in Japan and boasts the world's steepest drop. South Korea's Everland and Japan's Disney offshoots are among the most-visited theme parks in the world. In Abu Dhabi, the new Ferrari World has the world's fastest rollercoaster.

"Rollercoasters provide a stream of services, a stream of thrills. Naturally we would expect the Bric (Brazil, Russia, India, China) economies to show a relatively high current rate of investment in the 'thrill industry', compared with early industrialisers such as the US," says the economist Shane Bonetti, a former St Andrews University academic who now advises the Australian government. "Investment in rollercoasters isn't a measure of the robustness or health of an economy – it's an index of the economic maturity the Brics are approaching."

Robert Niles adds: "The challenge will be to keep investing in these new world parks so that locals keep coming and don't save up to go to Florida instead." These days, Orlando airport rings with excited children speaking Russian, Chinese and Brazilian Portuguese. The city has elevated the theme park to mythic status, building an entire economy around rollercoasters. Its former swamps are America's front door: this is the first taste of the country many people get. For those kids theme parks are America – and America is a theme park.

Rollercoaster development was pioneered in the US – this is a country in thrall to them. Hollywood even set a kitsch thriller, 1977's – yes – Rollercoaster – on one. Perhaps surprisingly, austerity America is still blowing greenbacks on new ones – 20 this year. "2012 is a blockbuster year for new coasters in the US," Mangone says. At 7,160ft, the world's highest, Cliffhanger, has opened at Glenwood Caverns in Colorado. "It's a great combination of thrills and the views," the park's Mandy Gauldin says. "You see the Colorado River way, way down there."

Globally, theme parks are a £15bn industry. Switzerland, with a history of cable car innovation, is home to the greatest designers: Intamin and Bolliger & Mabillard. Britain's contribution to the coaster canon is modest. Yet rollercoasters have infected our psyche. We build them over our country estates: if you'd told the 16th Earl of Shrewsbury that his brooding gothic revival pile, Alton Towers, would become synonymous with rollercoasters, he and its pious architect, Augustus Pugin, might have choked on their roast snipe. Galleries, too, have morphed into theme parks: each summer parks get a big new ride and each summer Tate Modern gets a big new artwork (or in the case of Carsten Höller's slides, a big new ride).

Are the forthcoming Louvre and Guggenheim outposts in Abu Dhabi art galleries or art theme parks? Coker sounds a note of caution about overdoing it in the Gulf: "Nearly all the ambitious plans to turn Dubai into the next Orlando are on hold. Perhaps permanently." Yet our enthusiasm for ever more thrilling rides seems undiminished. Might these rides come to define the point where capitalist countries stop building for money, and start building for fun? As Bonetti says: "It's a delicious irony that something so apparently childish as rollercoasters are a symbol of economic maturity."

Coasting along: three of the scariest rides

10 Inversion, Chimelong Paradise, Guangzhou, China

This bolshier version of the Monte Makaya coaster at Terra Encantada in Rio de Janeiro boasts 10 to its predecessor's eight stomach-churning inversions.

Formula Rossa, Ferrari World, Abu Dhabi

The world's fastest rollercoaster hurtles up to 150mph in under five seconds, exerting a hefty a g-force of 4.8 on riders.

Skyrush, Hersheypark, Hershey, Pennsylvania, United States

Coaster enthusiasts have been posting excited notices about this new ride, which opened six weeks ago. It boasts a terrifying 200ft drop.