Comment: January 2012 Archives

Quite who Ethiopian Airlines thinks it is kidding with its theories on the Beirut 737 accident two years ago is unclear. But by insisting from the outset that flight ET409 must have sustained some unexplained problem, rather than an operational breakdown on the flightdeck, it dug a public relations hole so deep its continued protests reek of desperation.

Its dramatic claim of dark, conspiratorial events - centred on sabotage or the shooting down of the 737 - competes for attention with the equally suspect suggestion that a lightning strike caused the twinjet to disintegrate minutes after departure. Backed by the Ethiopian civil aviation authority, the carrier's statement that the report is "lacking evidence" would be sheer parody in less serious circumstances, but takes on a terrible irony after an accident that claimed 90 lives.

Initially, Lebanon's government did itself no favours, with loose and premature comments from ministers in the aftermath of the disaster, and a leaked US diplomatic cable spelled out embarrassing behind-the-scenes manoeuvring only three weeks after the crash.

Even with detailed flight-recorder data and dozens of other sources of information, no accident investigation can draw up a precise sequence of events - there is always room for interpretation.

But the Lebanese report does not seem a product of anyone's imagination, simply a combination of hard evidence, consideration of probability, and a nod to Occam's Razor.

It is not hard to understand why the airline and the Ethiopian civil aviation authority would prefer to peddle a different version of events. But beginning with a conclusion, cherry-picking evidence and criticising anything which fails to support the hypothesis is not the process of investigation, but of conspiracy theory.

When we last commented on the loss of ET409 (Flight International, 5-11 April), we were rebuked by the African Airlines Association (3-9 May) for highlighting obvious parallels - now undeniably reinforced - with the Kenya Airways 737 crash three years before. That comment had the headline 'Tragically familiar' - and sadly the same one could apply to Ethiopian Airlines' reaction to the Lebanese report.

It smacks of the same attitude that has emerged in the wake of other uncomfortable inquiries, prioritising face-saving by sowing doubt over investigators' integrity, when a more appropriate reaction would have been reflection, humility and a vow to do whatever is necessary to avoid a repeat. Ninety lost lives deserve nothing less.

[This appeared as the leader piece in Flight International, 24 January]

Americans like gods and giants - Saturn, Ares, Atlas, Orion. Soyuz ("Union") was nothing less than shorthand for the formal name of the mighty Soviet Union. The Chinese keep trudging along their Long March. Only the French had the élan to name a rocket after a woman.

But style aside, what the French mostly had was the money. Ariane is Ariane rather than Gretchen or Eurolift because France stumped up 40% of the cash to get what has become a touchstone of European technical competence off the ground. Today, the European Space Agency is making final preparations for the maiden flight of a rocket that was named Vega by Italy, which paid 60% of the bill.

ESA director general Jean-Jacques Dordain does not mince words: the biggest contributor gets to choose the name of the rocket. So, one can refer to whatever is next on the drawing board as "Ariane 6", but Dordain makes very clear that, at ESA, it is called Next Generation Launcher until such time as member states put their money where their ambitions lie.

Dordain is a scientist by training who also has the political skills to run a supranational big-budget agency with big ambitions. At any time it has been a challenge to steer ESA, but with Europe facing a profound financial crisis, Dordain's job is getting really difficult.

Fortunately, as illustrated by his remarks about rocket-naming rights, he has a refreshing attitude to money. It is relatively easy to convince European nations they should have independent space capabilities and participate on an equal footing in international scientific ventures such as deep space exploration. It is quite another thing to keep them paying for it.

Dordain's great instinct is to recognise that financial limits mean trade-offs and to talk frankly about priorities. He takes pains to show that ESA wants every euro paid in by hard-pressed taxpayers to lead to a valuable result in capabilities, scientific knowledge or services.

In short, he spends ESA's money as though it were his own hard-earned cash.

If only such an attitude were the norm for all consumers of government money. When it comes to military aerospace, for instance, taxpayers have learned to expect runaway costs and waste.

Past experience warns against holding out much hope for reform, but a good start might be for defence ministers to pay a visit to ESA's modest Paris headquarters and take in the atmosphere.

(This ran as the main leader article in Flight International, 17 January) 

Surely, the irony cannot be lost on the US Air Force. Over the past decade, its contractors have turned routine acquisitions into legal battlegrounds, challenging and overturning contract awards on even the slightest procedural lapse by government contracting officers. Now, one contractor - namely, Hawker Beechcraft - is suing the USAF essentially because service officials followed a set of acquisition rules to the letter.

In this case, the contractor may, in fact, have a legitimate point, but perhaps not a valid legal argument.

The case arose in the aftermath of one of the more embarrassing gaffes by a contractor in recent memory.

Beechcraft's AT-6 Texan II was offered against the Sierra Nevada/Embraer Super Tucano to supply 20 light air support (LAS) fighters to the Afghan Air Force, with the USAF providing the funding and managing the competition. It was a sort of mini-KC-X competition, reflecting the emotive issue of competition between
domestic and foreign aircraft manufacturers. Despite the similarities, the result showed there were clear differences between the KC-X and LAS competitions. Most significantly, after a year-long analysis, the USAF determined that the AT-6 did not comply with the contractual specifications.

To communicate the rejection decision, the USAF mailed a letter to an address provided by Hawker Beechcraft in the bidding documents. There is no dispute that a mailroom employee for Beechcraft received the USAF's letter on 4 November. Beechcraft's LAS team, however, did not see the letter for another 11 days.

According to the bidding rules, Beechcraft's response came several days after the deadline for requesting a debriefing. As a result, Beechcraft's team - which includes Lockheed Martin, L-3 Communications, CMC Electronics and Pratt & Whitney - is still uncertain why the USAF judged its bid non-compliant.

It is clear this story does not cover Hawker Beechcraft's management team in glory. That an official communication from the USAF over a major contract opportunity went missing for 10 days after it was received inside the company is nothing short of scandalous.

The USAF is, of course, following its own bidding rules in denying the AT-6 industry team an explanation. To do otherwise could invite a legitimate protest by the Super Tucano industry team. But the USAF's track record invites scrutiny. And it is a disservice to taxpayers if disorganisation in one company's mailroom means the decision escapes thorough review.

(The above article appeared as the lead Comment in Flight International 10 January issue)