A Boeing 737-800 nose-dived into the mountains of southern China last week, killing all 132 aboard and rekindling doubts about an iconic Chicago-based company that has yet to fully recover from its own self-inflicted dive.
Once known as a collection of perfectionists committed to safety, Boeing has stumbled in recent years. Air travelers who put their lives in its hands have reason to doubt its credibility. As the travel market picks up again after a pandemic-induced lull, Boeing needs to prove that it will put safety over profit every time.
Less than four years ago, this much-admired company appeared to be cruising straight and level. Then in October 2018, its new 737 MAX (a different model than the 800) crashed in Indonesia. Less than five months later, another new 737 MAX crashed in Ethiopia. The two crashes were no coincidence.
Boeing had reconfigured the MAX model with bigger engines that affected its aerodynamics, then plastered over the change with a faulty fix. Regulators had given Boeing too much control over certifying its new design. Plus, under pressure from rival Airbus, the company had a financial incentive to cut corners.
The result was the now-notorious MCAS system, which forced down the MAX planes as their shocked pilots battled to save them. Everyone on both flights died — 346 altogether. Given the strong safety record of modern aviation, two deadly crashes of a new-model aircraft should have made Boeing look inward to solve the problem.
Instead, the company responded with ham-handed damage control. Boeing resisted grounding its fleet of MAX planes and tried to cast blame on the Indonesian and Ethiopian airlines. Dennis Muilenburg, CEO at the time, spouted insincere baloney about safety being a core value, until his board of directors belatedly ousted him.
Muilenburg received $62 million in farewell compensation, eliminating the risk of a public dispute that might have established more precisely how Boeing fielded an unsafe plane. That was one of several instances when the company avoided a full reckoning that could have set the record straight.
The only other individual from Boeing who faced public retribution was a midlevel executive accused of deliberately misleading regulators, a criminal offense. As chief technical pilot, Mark Forkner was responsible for informing the Federal Aviation Administration about pilot training needed for the MAX planes. Last week, a jury in Texas found him not guilty after less than two hours of deliberations.
Forkner’s slam-dunk acquittal was no triumph for Boeing. To an extent, Forkner himself was misled by company colleagues who withheld timely information about the MCAS system. Forkner’s instant messages bashing his fellow employees, customers and regulators didn’t sink his case, but they sure made Boeing look bad.
Prior to Forkner’s trial, Boeing cut a deal with federal prosecutors that let the company off too easily for its own good.
Nothing in the deferred prosecution agreement held Boeing’s senior management and directors specifically accountable. The company agreed to pay a $244 million fine — too small to deter a business its size from reoffending — plus compensation to airline customers and crash victims that it very likely would have had to pay anyway. The Justice Department failed to insist on appointing an independent safety monitor, as it should have done for the sake of public confidence.
Passengers around the world are back to flying Boeing planes everywhere, every day, including the 737 MAX, which is prized for its fuel efficiency. Let’s face it, travelers generally don’t have the latitude to choose the planes they fly on, and air travel is too complicated for everyday folks to ensure their own safety. People need to be able to trust Boeing.
The flying public is getting some dramatic reminders about the company’s missteps in the Netflix series, “Downfall: The Case Against Boeing,” and the carefully reported book, “Flying Blind: The 737 MAX Tragedy and the Fall of Boeing,” by Peter Robison. Both suggest the company started to de-emphasize safety more than two decades ago, after it merged with the bottom-line-oriented McDonnell Douglas and moved its headquarters from Seattle to Chicago.
We’re skeptical about that theory. In the end, too many people were responsible for the 737 MAX crashes to reasonably hold any individual responsible, a problem that Boeing needs to avoid in the future. Better compliance programs and internal controls can help, and Congress has approved legislation strengthening FAA oversight. But most of all, the company needs its senior leadership to show that safety really does come first.
Boeing remains under financial stress from the pandemic, its MAX scandal and costly delays rolling out its widebody 787 Dreamliner. The company has inventory to unload and ambitious targets to meet, which could be a recipe for more trouble.
No one knows yet what caused the recent China crash, and we hope it’s no fault of Boeing’s. But if there’s reason to suspect a flaw in the aircraft, the company must do now what it should have done after the first MAX crash: Ground the jet involved worldwide and fix the problem, before another goes down. That action would go a long way to restoring the company’s reputation and enabling passengers to feel safe again on a Boeing plane.
