johnwvincent

Time for Change

….people have been living, loving, and telling tales for thousands of years on this great European island.

The past is another country. So, it’s said. We now hear those who claimed Boris Johnson was the only man who could unite the Conservative Party eating their words. Eating them with a shovel. It wasn’t as if their support for the former Prime Minister was measured and rational, earlier it reached blind obedience as the troubles of the last decade accumulated. Lies, monstrous errors and blatant foolishness were defended by many who claim to be – working for you.

I know loyalty is important. Any team, or institution needs a degree of unity to go forward with confidence that it can deliver. It’s the miss-appropriation of that loyalty and its twisting into unquestioning conformity that corrupts democratic processes. Politician minions will tramp along under any flag that will give them gongs.

It’s fascinating how flamboyant and raucous personalities can steamroller over convention and Pied Piper[1] like lead us into misfortunes. Hang about – we have a recuring problem here. This week, I was reminded of Itay’s challenges of a couple of decades ago. I remember Italian colleagues quietly apologising for Silvio Berlusconi[2].

A common feature of these personalities is an immense sense of self-importance. Whatever the story, it’s always about them. This is playing out with Boris Johnson’s departure from parliament. It’s playing out with Trump’s ambitions in the US. There are others but the mere act of using their names is distasteful.

Vulgar, scandal-ridden, and manipulative characters make good drama. On the pages of plays or the big or small screen we like to see rampage and for them get their just deserts. Classic stories of the rise and fall of demi-gods, showmen and tyrants are a literary staple. They are fictional warnings that can, and do, get copied into real life. We should, more often, heed those warnings.

There such a thing as a free lunch. Having your cake and eating it too, is a myth.

It’s coming up to Brexit’s 7^th birthday and the annual pagan midsummer celebrations at Stonehenge[3]. Of the two, one reminds us of how foolish we can be. The other, reminds us of the enduring nature of our beautiful landscape and heritage. It comforts me every time I go up and down the A303. The reason being that whatever folly we encounter in our era, people have been living, loving, and telling tales for thousands of years on this great European island.

The people of Stonehenge were not isolationists. Artifacts found show that they traded widely. They communicated over large distances as part of a widespread prehistoric society. Brexit will be consigned to the dustbin of history in coming years. What counts about this wonderful land will endure for generations.

[1] https://www.bbc.com/travel/article/20200902-the-grim-truth-behind-the-pied-piper

[2] https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-europe-65877241

[3] https://www.english-heritage.org.uk/visit/places/stonehenge/things-to-do/solstice/

What Town?

It’s a confusing film. I enjoyed it in a strange way. This is one of many times fiction has wrestled with the idea of parallel universes. “Everything Everywhere All at Once” gets crazy[1] and has some absurdly funny moments. Embracing all possibilities, however unlikely is a lot of fun. Childlike fun.

Life’s branches – it’s easy enough to grasp if there are a not many to think about. Lifelong “what ifs” are familiar territory. What if, I’d taken a different path? What if, I’d met this person instead of that person? What if that accident had been more, or less severe? It’s so human to play with imagination and different scenarios. What’s difficult to grasp is the notion that there might be an infinite number of different branches in and infinite numbers of universes.

When large numbers of possibilities arise, it can be the source of anxiety. Me being on the stoic side, I shrug my shoulders and carry on. Don’t get me wrong, thinking about lost opportunities or idiotic mistakes stirs-up more than a few feelings. Living in synchronisation with reality means choosing to focus on changing the things that can be changed and choosing not to bash one’s head against a wall. The key words being to choose.

This is the time of year when future students are looking at future possibilities. Walking past the gates of the local college, a group of school leavers could be seen eyeing up the building. That one first major step at 16 years. Up and down the county, universities are hosting potential students. Trying to answer all their questions. That step, at 18-years is one of the biggest those lucky enough to make, get to make. This town, or city, or that out-of-town campus.

I wonder what I’d be doing now if I’d gone to Bath university or Brunell in Uxbridge? How did I make those choices? Well, there was the factor of sponsorship so there was no way that the chance to study art, politics or philosophy would come up. My search was for a sandwich course to be able to mix study and work. My chosen trade was electrical and electronic design. That fascination with how stuff works continues to this day.

At 18 years, I had little grasp of the fact that university, or polytechnic as it was, was far more than technical study and the usual bundle of exams. The 4-years I had going backwards and forwards between the west country and Coventry was a mammoth transformation.

Although, I had no particular leaning towards aviation there was moments when aircraft and aeronautics came into the mix. On my journeys north to the midlands, I’d often stop at a lay-by at the end of the runway of RAF Kemble and watch the Red Arrow practice[2].

Coventry in the early 1980s was the home of GEC. That being the case there was a telecommunications bias in some of what we were taught. That suited me fine. Let’s face it, in that period we lived in an analogue world with a strong technological push to adopt the early generations of digital systems. Although electro-mechanical telephone exchange production had finished[3] much of the installed equipment in the country was still a mass of relays.

Coventry between 1978 and 1982 was the place to be. It was rough and ready. It was suffering the onslaught of Thatcher’s march to destroy the past and transplant the new. The pace of change left oceans of people behind. Culturally the pressure of that grim social revolution liberated a generation of music and rebellion that we look back on as magic.

As if by magic, and I didn’t plan this, BBC Radio 4 is playing “Ghost Town” by The Specials[4]. Yes, that was a defining soundtrack to influential moments in my life.

[1] https://www.imdb.com/title/tt6710474/

[2] https://the-buccaneer-aviation-group.com/history-of-cotswold-airport/

[3] http://www.telephoneworks.co.uk/history/gec_telecomms.htm

[4] https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/m001n1h5

Safety is poltical

It’s a surprisingly controversial statement. It’s particularly difficult for those working in traditionally technical specialisations to come to openly acknowledge “politics” in their work. By raising the subject, it’s almost as if one had stepped in something unpleasant.

I recall the period when a new aviation agency was being established. That’s in the dawn of this new century. EASA, the European Aviation Safety Agency came into operation in 2003, but the debate about its shape and form occupied many of the preceding years. Politicians, administrators, technocrats, and industry were vocal about the direction to take.

The impact of liberalising European civil aviation, that stated in the 1970s, was primarily a political drive. It envisaged both a commercial and social benefits. Separating the operation of aviation from the vagaries of political personalities seemed to offer a future that would be led by the customers needs.

The general acceptance that State control of businesses, like airlines and manufacturers, had a stifling effect, limiting innovation and opportunity was questioned but not so much by those with the power to make changes. Momentum pushing liberalisation was given a boost by the apparent successes of businesses, like Southwest airlines[1] in the US. Freddie Laker had a big influence in the UK[2].

In these decades of transformation aviation safety has always been heralded as a priority. Whoever is speaking, that’s the line that is taken. Safety is number one. What industry has experienced is a decades long transition from the ways and mean of trying to control safety to an approach more based on managing potential outcomes. This is characterised in a shift from mostly prescriptive rules and regulations to other more adaptive approaches.

Back to the proposition that safety is political. There are several ways to address this as an exercise of analysis. There’s a mammoth amount of historical evidence to draw upon. However, my thoughts are more to do with anecdote and lived experience.

Number one is that our institutions are shaped by political decision-making. This is to varying degrees, from year to year, but international bodies, national ministries, administration, authorities, agencies, committees, learned bodies, all depend upon political support. If they do not muster and sustain this support, they will wither and die.

Number two, change is a constant, failures happen but safety achievement depends on a consistency, dependability, and stability. Maintaining public confidence. There lies a dissonance that must be reconciled. Governments and politicians instinctively insulate themselves in such cases and so the notion of “independent” regulation is promoted.

Number three, arguments for liberalisation or intervention do not stop. The perpetual seesaw of cutting “red tape” and tightening rules and regulation may settle for a while even if these are always in movement. This can be driven by events. The proximity of fatal accidents is always a significant political driver. Domestic fatalities, where consequences are borne locally, will have much more impact than similar events 1000 miles away.

Does any of this matter? Afterall it’s a context that exists, de-facto. It’s no good saying: stop the world I want to get off.

Yes, it does matter. Accepting that safety is political helps dispel some of the myths that persist.

A prerequisite to safety success is provision of adequate resources. Constantly cutting a budget has consequences. A blind drive for efficiency that doesn’t effectively measure performance invites failure. Much as lack of planning invites failure. Reality bites.

It’s reasonable to question of investigatory or regulatory “independence” from time-to-time. The reasons for safety decision-making can be purely objective and technical. Questioning that “purity” need not be impugning politicians, administrators, or managers in their motivations. Shedding light on contextual factors can help learning and avoidance of future failures.

Accepting the perpetual political seesaw of debate can help a great deal in meeting safety goals. What this means is the importance of timing. Making a proposal to tighten a rule concerning a known deficiency can meet a stone wall. Making the same proposal after an accident, involving that deficiency, can go much better. Evidence that is compelling can change minds. This is reality.

[1] https://www.southwest.com/about-southwest/#aboutUs

[2] https://simpleflying.com/laker-airways-brief-history/

digital probing

It’s the Japanese knotweed of the digital world.

Advertising, marketing, promotion, selling, I expect some of those cave paintings of ancient men and women were showing-off to the rest of their society. They’d be saying, extra tasty bison if you head on down to this big watering hole. Throw your spear this way for the best results. The communication medium, a rock face isn’t so different from billboards, hoardings and signage that line busy roads. Catching your eye is the aim. Doing it on a busy throughfare is a proven method.

Too much of this can be annoying, distracting and ultimately defeating. Wall-to-wall advertising that’s pushy, gaudy and litters the highway is a nightmare no one wants to see. It’s not just the urban planners that get riled-up when they see streets plastered with garish advertising.

What of the digital worlds we inhabit? It’s clear they’re no exception. A great deal of the money to be made digitally comes from advertising. My beef here is with the saturation questioning that this industry uses to accumulate data. The bombarding of people with questionnaire after questionnaire is as annoying as any gaudy poster. Survey after survey pops-up as soon as you give away your e-mail address in any purchase. “We’d love to know more about the experience you recently had……………”

It’s one reason why I always refuse any request made at a till in a shop. Occasionally, shop assistants will look offended. It’s as if you have slighted them, is some incomprehensible way. It’s no good them saying they can reassure you that your data will be “protected”. Such reassurances are meaningless.

There are so many examples of data held securely and in line with data protection rules being hacked[1][2][3][4] and spread around like confetti. Compensation after the event is not compensation for the aggravation.

Making purchases it’s inevitable that we will give away data. Few of us read the terms and conditions under which we give away our data. There’s an expectation of “protection”. The conveniences of digital transactions are traded against the risks of losing vital personal data.

When it comes to advertising there’s no necessity. Unless there’s some form of inducement. One came into my in-box saying, “win a £10,000 holiday”. I did what I normally do – deleted it. I find such hooks like “This survey will only take a few minutes to complete” as annoying as improbable competitions and insincere thanks.

I don’t suppose I’m eccentric in disliking all this unrelenting digital probing. It’s clutter. It’s invasive. It’s the Japanese knotweed of the digital world.

[1] https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/technology-45446529

[2] https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/technology-52722626

[3] https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-asia-india-57210118

[4] https://www.reuters.com/business/aerospace-defense/american-airlines-says-data-breach-affected-small-number-customers-employees-2022-09-20/

Link Box

It’s the petite agricultural tractor commonly known as the Little Grey Fergie

The Mendip Hills in Somerset are known for quarrying. A variety of rock types end up in construction and road building. For farmers, not far under the soil that rock is both good and bad. When it comes to grazing land and the annual ritual of haymaking, hard rock is a menace to machinery.

I’m going back in time. I did this, this week. One or two memories flashed through my head as I walked around the vintage tractors at the South of England Show[1] in Ardingly, West Sussex. I’m glad I went on Friday. A large agricultural showground in the heat of this summer weekend must have been quite testing. It was dry, hot, and breezy on Friday. Every other stall was selling hats. It was a day for suncream and plenty of drinking water.

There was a good selection of livestock at the show but no poultry, for obvious reasons this year. Bird flu. The animal numbers were not large, as they might have been in former times, but the quality was clear to see. Sitting under the shade of a large oak tree watching the pigs being judged was more entertaining than it sounds. Pigs have a mind of their own, and go the way they want.

In the 1960s, farm machinery was miniature in comparison with the massive high-tech machines on display to serious buyers. It was basic. Much like the cars and vans of the time. An average village mechanic could fix just about anything. Everything was manual. Everything was raw metal. Everything wasn’t made for comfort, or safety for that matter.

Seeing the simple cast iron seat of a Fordson Major[2], the contrast with an environmentally controlled tractor cabs of today couldn’t be starker. That said, there’s something to love about these heritage farm machines. Often lovingly restored, cherished by their owners and worth more than you would imagine. It’s the petite agricultural tractor commonly known as the Little Grey Fergie that I’m remembering. My granddad had one. A Ferguson TE20 to be precise[3]. And it was grey, or was it red?

On the A371, south of Shepton Mallet, Somerset is a small hamlet called Prestleigh. It was a regular haunt of my early childhood. Yew Tree Farm consisted of an ancient farmhouse on the west side of the main road and buildings and a yard on the eastern side of the road. The farm gate was in a treacherous place. On a corner, on a steep hill. In my time, my grandparents sold the farmhouse and built a bungalow to the south of the farmyard.

As far as I recollect, it was a small business that ticked over keeping my granddad busy. He was an avid gardener too. Nothing is flat in that part of the Mendip countryside. The rolling slope of the land formed a shallow valley. You couldn’t avoid the local landmark. The Somerset & Dorset railway traversed the valley by an impressive viaduct. Granddad’s fields went up to the railway and to the other side of the viaduct.

Yes, some of my early childhood conjures up images of The Railway Children. The steam trains trundled along that line until 1965. After that it was a place for us to explore and have mini adventures. It’s more the stories of steam trains than the trains themselves. It’s difficult to believe that the trains acted as a time piece for the countryside. Daily trains signalled milking time or teatime.

Back to stones. Sharp limestones. They littered the field above the Prestleigh railway viaduct. When it came to mowing that field, the abundant stones would blunt the blades of a cutter bar mower[4]. They could do a lot of damage.

There was a job for the Little Grey Fergie, my granddad, my brother, and me. He had two energetic young boys in his service. He’d drive the tractor at a snail’s pace across the field. We’d jump in and out of the link box on the back. Strong summer sun turned the grass brown.

Arm outstretched granddad pointed out the bigger stones and, like a couple of retrievers we’d run off, pick them up and then stash them in the tractor link box. It was the task of Sisyphus[5]. There was no beginning and no end to the task. The sun backed ground brought stones to the surface every season. At the end of the day we measured our work by the weight of the link box.

That’s what the vintage tractors at the South of England show reminded me of, amongst other childhood farming memories of an era gone forever.

[1] https://www.seas.org.uk/south-of-england-show/

[2] https://heritagemachines.com/tractors/the-fordson-major-story/

[3] https://www.coventrytelegraph.net/news/coventry-news/massey-ferguson-coventry-manufacturing-giant-15739539

[4] https://www.pinterest.at/pin/121034308718777099/

[5] Sisyphus is punished in the underworld by the god Zeus, who forces him to roll a boulder up a hill for eternity.

Stomping off

Boris Johnson is going from the green benches but, like it or not, he will still be with us as a voice for Brexit

Middlesex is a place that isn’t a place. When I lived in the English town of Staines, the postal address would often have Middlesex as the county. In fact, Staines is in the county of Surrey. History, and former administrative boundaries still echo into the present. It’s not confusing for postmen and women but for anyone unfamiliar with that part of the world, it’s strange.

Uxbridge is in Middlesex, or it was in past times. In electoral terms, the UK Parliament constituency of Uxbridge and South Ruislip [1] is a marginal seat. It’s that far west boundary of London.

Uxbridge is a university town. Uxbridge has a London tube station.

During the 2016 UK referendum on European Union (EU) membership, I stood with local students at a table in the street outside Uxbridge’s tube station. We had lots of interesting encounters with residents talking about what would, or would not happen if the Leave campaign won the referendum. If I remember rightly, the disposition of people we met was about 50:50.

A conversation with one local businesses man turned out to be quite revealing. He put it like this – my head tells me to vote to stay in the EU, but my heart tells me to vote to leave the EU. On the day, for a majority it seems that the heart won out over the head. The consequences of that vote we all now know.

Uxbridge and South Ruislip is in the News. Projections focusing on the next General Election are confident that the Parliament constituency will flip from Conservative to Labour. The polls show a highly likly swing.

That would mean that Boris Johnson’s time as Member of Parliament (MP) would come to an end with electoral defeat next year. So, the current News that Boris Johnson has resigned as a Conservative MP is not such a surprise to me. Usually, an MP in such a position does what’s called the “chicken run”[2]. That is, they get selected as a candidate in a more winnable seat so that they can retain a career in Parliament. Boris Johnson has moved seat before.

Boris Johnson is all about drama. Boris Johnson is all about exceptions. Stomping off and ranting about the unfairness of his enemies is designed to get weekend newspaper columnists filling pages about him. He’s never going to go quietly. Even outside the House of Commons there’s always going to be a well-paid pulpit for this torrid man. The loud noises he makes appeals to a section of the country, much as Trump does the same in the US.

Middlesex has gone but it’s still with us. Boris Johnson is going from the green benches but, like it or not, he will still be with us as a voice for Brexit. The reality is that the Conservative Party is split. Broken apart by in-fighting. It’s in chaos. In a way, there is a parallel with the mid-1990s. Disputes over our place in the world, and Europe continue to fracture our politics.

POST: It has been noted that there’s no former UK Prime Minister in modern times who has so strongly attacked Parliament’s institutions and former colleagues as Boris Johnson. How British voters will respond to his victim narrative will play out next week.

[1] https://members.parliament.uk/constituency/3817/overview

[2] https://www.spectator.co.uk/article/are-mps-doing-the-chicken-run/

People

You can apply this to health, transport, and a multitude of successful industries.

When the subject of staff shortages, and generally that’s qualified staff shortages, comes up, and a government minister is put in the spotlight the answer that comes back is no more than evasion. It’s a shrug of the shoulders and an irritated retort along the lines that Brexit has happened. They may go for the sympathy vote in emphasising how hard the last six years have been in Parliament. What follows is a vague illusion to the opportunities that are now available to the UK because of Brexit.

What’s sad, is they will then quote a small step that has benefited the UK but then neglect to say that such a step should have happened regardless of Brexit. The lack of intellectual rigour is growing. Conservatives are so deeply embedded in the Brexit mirage that they readily clutch at straws. This constant blindness hinders access to the real opportunities. The real opportunity is to move on.

If the UK is to be best positioned to exploit the new technologies that are advancing rapidly, we need to rediscover partnerships. We are well positioned, given the history of the post-war period, to be a significant player in the technology-based industries. UK academia has a lot to offer too.

It’s a global marketplace. That means there’s the need for people to move. Not always permanently, but to move to best use their specialise knowledge and skills. In that pattern of movement, we should not have unnecessary restrictions for British people to work in Europe, or the reverse.

There are lots of people and organisations that want to do trade with the UK. What they don’t want is the stone wall of British politicians who echo thin Brexit rhetoric at every opportunity. There’s also a mindless compulsion to be different for the sake of being different. British pragmatism has been submerged under a shadow of the last six years.

There’s some light over the horizon. Certainly, amongst most of the public there’s a dismissal of sloppy Brexit benefit agreements. There’s a groan. Our collective experience shows that sloppy political thinking falls into ruin when faced with reality. A General Election will be welcome. It needs to be a generational election. That should mean a sea change in the population of Members of Parliament. Let’s see a new generation stand and get elected.

UAP

….none of us are familiar with the variety in shape and size of flying machines currently being designed and developed for general use

There was a time when anyone raising the issue of the potential for an asteroid to send humans back to the stone age was mocked and derided. Anyone bringing apparent sci-fi plots into Parliament was jeered. Now, the subject is studied with intensity and considerable resources. The probabilities of Near-Earth Object[1] (NEO) impact is calculated, and small asteroid and comet orbits are monitored in detail.

Really bad films, like the one starring Bruce Willis have a lot to answer for. That space between fiction and reality gets filled with more than a few eccentrics and conspiracy theories. Trouble is that gives you, and me licence to smirk anytime cosmic occurrences come into discussion.

I must admit I like the term Unidentified Anomalous Phenomena (UAP) better than UFO. They are airborne phenomena, they are unidentified until we know better, and they are anomalous. Although, most reports are attributed to things that are known, even if they are rare events. Some are pooly reported and only scant evidence is avialable.

Discovering all there is to know about such airborne phenomena is a matter of both safety and security. However remote it might seem, part of this is the safety of aircraft in flight. I know of no examples of extra-terrestrial objects colliding with aircraft but it’s not impossible. I’m reminded of that classic picture of a bullet hitting a bullet in-flight and fusing together. It’s from the Battle of Gallipoli.

We might be entering a new era of transparency in the scientific study of UAP. This is a wholly good thing and highly necessary given the coming expansion in the number of air vehicles in flight. If Advanced Air Mobility (AAM) is going to do anything, it’s going to led to an increase in aviators and public reports. For one, none of us are familiar with the variety in shape and size of flying machines currently being designed and developed for general use. It’s likly that red and green lights moving through the sky at night is going to prompt public reports of the “unknown”.

Perspective plays a part too. A small drone close can look like a large airship at distance. As environmental conditions change so the perception of airborne objects can change dramatically. So, what we might observe and confidently attribute to be a drone or helicopter or aircraft in-flight is not always definitive. Applying disciplined scientific analysis to the data that is available has benefits.

Given that our airspace is likely to become ever more crowded, NASA’s study[2] of UAP has much merit. Recognising that resources are needed for this work is a lesson most nations need to learn. We can sit on our hands or giggle at the more ridiculous interpretations of observations, but this kind of reporting and analysis will be advantageous to aviation safety and security. It’s part of giving the public confidence that nothing unknown, unmanaged or uncontrolled is going on abover their heads too.

POST: UFOs: Five revelations from Nasa’s public meeting – BBC News

[1] https://neo.ssa.esa.int/home

[2] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bQo08JRY0iM

Information

The issue is how far do you go and who makes the decision as to what’s relevant?

Investigation is about learning. In every crisis, accident, or major event some things will be done well, and things will be done badly. In essence a good investigation needs to extract, from all the available information, the lessons to be learned. Putting on record what happened and why will help those who face future events.

If there’s a role in apportioning blame or liability it needs to be made explicit. The problem is obvious. Inclination to avoid blame or liability may motivate contributors to an investigation to be less than frank or cooperative with the process. Independence and respect for privacy can help alleviate fears that information could be misused.

An inquiry, or investigation needs a complete narrative of what happened and when. It’s a fundamental part of establishing the grounds on which the process can proceed to a conclusion. If that narrative is inaccurate or missing information or manipulated the results of the end process may be deemed questionable.

The bizarre situation of the moment is that of a government, who sets-up an inquiry is fighting that same inquiry. Defending the government’s decision to hold back certain information, the argument is put forward that some information is “unambiguously irrelevant”.

Most of us would agree that Boris Johnson’s shoe size might be deemed irrelevant. The issue is how far do you go and who makes the decision as to what’s relevant? Should a party under investigation, namely the government, be the entity to make the decisions on relevance?

For the sake of objectivity, I’d say that it’s for the leader of an inquiry or investigation to determine what’s relevant. To argue against that position is to suggest some potential indiscretion or failure of the process may result in unnecessary embarrassment of those making submissions. That demonstration of suspicion and lack of faith in the inquiry or investigation process may go some way to undermine its purpose.

The Cabinet Office would do well to consider if it’s serious about learning lessons from the COVID pandemic. What is certain is that there will be another global pandemic. Now, that may not be for a decade or several decades, but it’s inevitable. Better the country be prepared. Better there be prevention of avoidable errors.

POST: Boris Johnson at risk of losing Covid inquiry legal funding, Whitehall warns | Financial Times (ft.com)

Happy Birthday EASA

Happy Birthday EASA. 20 years is a good age

For me, it was a peculiar day in July. It was a baking hot Brussels. The sun beat down and the city’s trams were full of sweaty travellers. The interview room was a classic board room style. Modern office, heavy polished wooden table, and heavy black leather chairs. On a hot bright sunny summer day that was not a pleasing formula for a formal interview.

I was surprised at the result. I got the job. A moment in July 2004 became a pivotal moment in my aviation career. Not quite 20-years ago. The European Aviation Safety Agency (EASA)[1] was already up and running in a shared office in a Brussels suburb. It was the bare bones of an organisation in the process of a rapid build-up. Discussion about the locations of the Agency’s eventual headquarters were concluding.

That kicked-off my 11-years in Cologne. I arrived in the city when the tower building was being constructed and as the staff had just moved from Brussels to take up the new headquarters. It was December 2004. Offices, on the 6^th floor of the main building were buzzing. The Agency was small in numbers and running fast to fulfil its new responsibilities.

European aviation safety regulation was going through a major change. Up until September 2003, Europe’s National Aviation Authorities (NAAs) acted as a partnership within the Joint Aviation Authorities (JAA)[2]. A body of rules and regulations and ways of working had been harmonised. However, because of the “club” like nature of the JAA there remained unresolved disagreements, incontinences, and a confusing representation at international level.

The legislation that called for the formation of EASA was set to unify aircraft certification and rulemaking activities and drive a consistency in the application of standards across Europe. It was the start of a long road to build world-class civil aviation safety regulator. It worked.

I experienced the first decade in Cologne. The storming and norming. The extensions of remit and turbulent days when we were finding our way. Several tragic fatal accidents and a least one Europe wide crisis. Now, the Agency is about to start its third decade.

EASA is undisputed as the European organisation that talks to the international aviation community. It works in lockstep with the European Commission. It is an achievement to be celebrated.

Yes, I find it sad that the UK is no longer a member of the Agency. But that doesn’t stop National Aviation Authorities (NAAs) working together in a constructive and positive manner[3]. There’s much to be gained from avoiding the fragmentation and conflicts of the past.

Happy Birthday EASA. 20 years is a good age.

[1] What’s #EASA’s story? See what we have achieved in 20 years https://www.easa.europa.eu/…/looking-back-move-forward…

[2] https://jaato.com/start/

[3] https://www.easa.europa.eu/en/domains/international-cooperation/easa-by-country