Category: Trade

Shifting Perspectives

Daily writing prompt
What’s a topic or issue about which you’ve changed your mind?
View all responses

If you write the perfect rule, you will get the desired outcome. Authoring a specification that is robust and watertight will assure success. Having the best possible plan will deliver the best possible results. All sounds reasonable – doesn’t it? It’s not surprising that someone like me, having been schooled in project management, and working in engineering, would have a rational and systematic approach to problem solving. A proven highly successful way of implementing complex technical projects and delivering successful outcomes.

As an analogy I’ll start with mathematics. Nature is a curious beast. What we lean about complex systems is that what happens is highly dependent upon a start point. The initial conditions. Graduate level mathematics about control systems with feedback show that their behaviour changes a lot with a change of initial conditions. So, it’s reasonable to extend that to a systematic approach to just about anything. It’s often true.

Fail to plan – plan to fail. That idiom is a simple few words to sum up this cause and effect. Used by famous names and often quoted. Management training books are littered with this notion.

20-years ago, my team introduced the first European Aviation Safety Plan[1]. This initiative was built around the idea that to achieve a common objective a plan is the best and quickest way to get there. A roadmap, a pathway, a strategy, call it what you will.

Start by identifying problems and then propose a fix for each one. Not all problems but the ones that fit that awkward Americanism – the low hanging fruit. Namely, the biggest problems (fruit) that can be solved with the least effort (easily picked).

Here’s where I’ve changed your mind. Maybe not changed in a dramatic sense but shifted perspective. It’s essential to have a plan, even if it’s just in my head, but it can be overstated as the most important part of a process of change.

The Plan, Do, Check, and Act (PDCA) cycle, starts with a plan. It must start that way. However, each of the four steps is equally important. Seems obvious to say. Even so, it’s often the case that a press release, or alike, will state – we have a plan, roadmap, pathway, strategy, as if that’s the job done.

Management teams will smile with a sense of achievement and show off their plans. A decade down the line that celebration might seem less momentous as the “do” part of the process turns out to be harder than anticipated.

This basic model for systematic change is a good one. Where I’ve changed my emphasis is in the distribution of effort. Don’t put all available energies into constructing the perfect plan. Yes, the initial conditions are important but they are not everything. The key part of the process is the cycle. Going around it with regularity is a way of delivering continuous improvement. Afterall, when it comes to a subject like aviation safety, that’s what’s needed.

[1] 2005 – DECISION OF THE MANAGEMENT BOARD ADOPTING THE 2006 WORK PROGRAMME OF THE EUROPEAN AVIATION SAFETY AGENCY

Sweet Truth

If I could guarantee one thing it would be that there would be a bag of sugar in the kitchen cupboard of my childhood home. The kitchen was the hub of the house. It was a square room with a solid square table right in the middle. Wheelback chairs permanently pushed in to make room to move round. There was one outside wall with a steel framed window that looked out on the farmyard. Looking due west. The evening sun would stream in to light up the side wall where the kitchen sink sat. With the thick walls of the farmhouse the window ledge was a place to sit. There was a full view of the farm gate so no one coming or going would ever be missed.

One wall had the remains of an ancient bread oven and a large alcove. In that alcove was a chucky great Aga. Custard coloured this massive cast iron cooker was the beating heart of the room. Before this cooker was converted to oil it was powered by anthracite. That involved a ritual of stoking and clearing out the ash every day.

The kitchen was the warmest room in the house. It’s where everyone congregated at mealtimes. Farming’s daily rhythm was managed from that room. Cups of tea flowed like a river as a bubbling kettle always seemed to be ready. Now, when I think about the amount of cane sugar that got piled into every cup of tea, I’m surprise that I have any teeth left at all. In fact, more than 50-year on, my last visit to the dentist for a check-up went well. Somehow my teeth have survived this onslaught.

Large bags of cash and carry bought sugar were a staple on the shelves of the larder. Rated today, my family’s rate of sugar consumption would be considered shocking. Not only that but the delight of toast made on the Aga top and then spread thickly with Golden Syrup[1] was normal winter comfort. Breakfast cereals were never eaten without tablespoons of sugar.

Time has passed and we have weaned ourselves off much of this overconsumption of highly refined sugar. There’s still a lot in our regular foods. Now, we have much more awareness of the problems that high sugar use can bring. That doesn’t stop us liking it.

Today, in politics, just it was in the 1960 and 70s, the metaphorical sugar of the day is the saying that there are easy solutions to complicated worries. There’s an appetite for a spoon full of sugar sprinkled on every latter-day problem. I don’t doubt that a spoon full of sugar helps the medicine go down[2]. Again metaphorically. However, Mary Poppins wasn’t saying that all you need is a spoon full of sugar. Far from it.

As the populist bandwagon continues to roll in most western countries, I think we need to remind ourselves of the enlightenment gained over the years. There are a lot of chores that must be done. Roads don’t get repaired by themselves. Hospitals don’t get built in a day. Schools and colleges need well motivated teachers to well motivate the next generation. Necessities like, tax and spend are a tedious inconvenience.

It’s so much easier to sprinkle a little verbal sugar and blame everyone else. Spouting simple solutions to ride the sugar rush. Covering dishonesties with a nice shiny coating. What we know from experience is that any lustre fades fast and decay sets in. The people who call themselves “Reform” are nothing more than peddlers of sugar-coated boloney. Reflect and beware.

[1] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Golden_syrup

[2] https://youtu.be/SVDgTbGZEw4

The Legacy of Beeching

Two hundred years is a long time. No, it isn’t. William the Conqueror, that’s the sort of name politicians crave, called for the building of Windsor Castle in England. That means, almost but not quite, a thousand years of continuous use. I guess in 2070 there’ll be a big celebration of the achievements of the Normans. Certainly, seemed to impress US President Trump.

If I had a time machine one of the destinations that I’d consider is 1963 and maybe 1965. I’d take a mass of press clippings and audio recordings about inadequate rural bus services and the high-speed railway saga (HS2).

History has a way of condensing a whole succession of events into a few simple words. William was a conqueror, but 1960’s civil servant Beeching was an axeman. That can be said to be unfair, since he was mandated to produce a report and, in the context of the times, British railways seemed like they had overexpanded and wouldn’t be brought back into profitability.

This happened when I was a child. I can just remember on my way to primary school stopping at a railway crossing and waiting a steam train to pass. It could have been the milk train. At that time milk was transported from west country dairy farms, in churns, to the local milk factory. Then loaded onto a London bound train. All this activity disappeared as I grew up. It was displaced by road tankers forcing their way along country roads.

I was born in a small Somerset railway town. Got my first pay packet in that small railway town. Had a couple of weeks of my engineering apprenticeship in the former railway shed. Spent time in the small motorcycle shop next to the railway embankment.

Beeching’s reports resulted in thousands of stations and thousands of miles of railway line being closed. The Somerset and Dorset (S&D) railway line was one of those that vanished. It was on 6 September 1965, the consent for closure was issued for most of the railway line.

Strangely, it was a newly elected Labour government that promised to reverse railway closures that closed the railway. A campaign to save the line was lost. Now, I think, what if, what if the new government of 1964 had not been so beguiled by modern road building and the white heat of technology. The internal combustion engine and purveyors of tarmac had won the day.

My message is to commission reports with a wider remit than merely improving economic efficiency. It’s a concern that is as ap today as ever it was. State of the art technology is alluring. Sloganising it’s easier to say that we are moving forward to a new dawn than it is to say we will update and improve the machinery we already use. There are good cases for scrapping past ways and means. Surely, it’s as well to try to look beyond immediate pressures.

Had Beeching’s axe not been so readily swung then we’d have an alternative to ever more road building and the billions ploughed into it. Remember those feeble promises to invest in local busses to replace the lost trains. How such recommendations are so quickly forgotten.

What will we say about robotics and artificial intelligence in 60-years’ time. Or even 200-years’ time. If we are still here.

Unintended Consequences

There’s a list that must exist somewhere in the bowels of Government which describes the dumbest things that have ever been done. The law of unintended consequences. Where an aim may have been honest, but the reality was a deep dive in embarrassment and failure.

If this list doesn’t exist it dam well should. It’s a sort of lessons learned for civil servants, politicians and think tanks. Don’t propose anything X because the last time someone did that they crashed and burned. Or more subtly it was years later that people cursed the day that such a dumb idea was advanced.

I’m not going to argue against market forces. How could I. From an early age markets were part of my life. That’s local agricultural markets. My father bought and sold livestock. The bread and butter of livestock farming is to buy at one price, add value and then, hopefully, sell at a better price. Markets rise and fall in ways that are often mystical.

The UK imports approximately 46% of the food it consumes. Even that figure is 5 years old. I suspect that food imports have increased in the meantime. That’s in a country that is richly blessed with quality agricultural land. Fine, we (UK) are none too good at growing olives or avocados but the range of produce that it is possible to grow is huge.

Grassland is our greatest asset. Every time I flew back from an overseas trip, just looking down from the aeroplane remined me just how the UK is a carpet of green. Field systems that have ancient origins still dominate the landscape.

Livestock farming has changed radically since my father’s time. Fortunately, we have avoided, in most cases, the levels of intensification and factory methods that others have adopted. Hormone injected beef comes from cattle that live sad lives. People know this and have hands down rejected industrial farming to that level of intensity.

Domestic food production has changed because of Brexit and not for the better. One threat to domestic food production has been some of the ridiculous trade deals that have been struck by this Government and its predecessors. Making it harder for exporters and easier for importers.

Political policy towards the countryside has rightfully taken up the need to restore biodiversity and preserve some of our most precious landscapes. Trouble is that at the same time, little or no thought has been given to the need to support domestic food production. It’s like a policy desert. It’s one thing to talk about food security. It’s another to do anything about it.

With the Labour Government threatening to take large amounts of capital out of UK farming with their inheritance tax plans, they will be making family farming a thing of the past. It’s one of the dumbest things that have ever been done.

There’s general agreement that we shouldn’t encourage wealthy people to use land as a repository for their wealth. However, tax advisors have been telling them to do that for decades. Buy land and pay less tax. Reversing that long standing trend needs an intelligent policy not a crude sledgehammer to crack a nut. Even if it’s impossible to ween Labour politicians off their ideas on inheritance tax, there ought to be a way of doing it without penalising the innocent. Letting off those non-farming interests that politicians were aiming at originally. Dogma makes bad policy. It’s time to reemphasise the place family farming has in food production.

Exploring the Greatness of Great Britain

What’s great about Great Britain? GQ has asked this question[1]. Produced a nice article that looks at this subject with a cultural eye.

It’s a bit retro. When we (Brits) start talking about how great pubs are there’s a tendency to forget how many we have lost in the last decade. If we loved them so much, then more would have survived crushing economic pressures.

Brit pop was a wonderful surge in creativity that swept across the country in the 1990s. It was good – mostly. Riding that wave, because we are romantic souls about the past, are the band Oasis with their multimillion £ world tour. Accounts of which are tremendously positive.

I think I can take a position about what’s great about Great Britain. Having lived in Germany and travelled a bit, my perspective isn’t too insular or defensive.

Because we are no longer the world’s premier power and imperialism is a fading memory, we’ve shed the stiff upper lip and bowler hatted civil service bureaucrat image. It’s there in film and television to remind us of former times. It’s few who want to return to all that deep seriousness.

That seriousness is the burden that the US carries. If they send a gun boat somewhere it means business. For Brits it’s more a symbol of still being on the stage. Don’t get me wrong, as a country we box way beyond our size.

For all the right-wing jerks who parade around with false patriotism, our great strength is diversity. Having that legacy of the world map once having been painted in a great deal of red, we can now engage with multiple cultures and benefit from them all.

Number one of the lists of inherited advantages is being able to speak to the world. Not in their language but in ours. English doesn’t belong to the English any more, it belongs to the world. They amount to a lot; the times I’ve had fun reading Brussels English and being amazed at how it’s being used.

Pick a discipline. Science, technology, humanities, art, entertainment, there’s always a Brit that can be named as shaping the world. Influencing others and providing a spark that sets off a flame.

Now, being more parochial, I’ll look around me, in this town, and see a diversity of styles from punks who never stopped being punks to suited tie wearing customer service executives. Welly booted farmers in the town for a day to young gamers stuck to their small screens.

Sport is another anchor. If we (Brits) didn’t invent it, then it’s a derivative of something we did invent. Top that with the eccentricities from international tiddlywinks[2] to stone skimming. Despite the school of hard knocks we still value fair play.

Comedy is taking a downturn, but the British legacy is monumental. Irreverent, rebellious or intricate, often all three, even if we (Brits) do invite in the bland factory-made stuff from the US. In a unregarded small corner there’s a someone writing hysterical lines waiting to be discovered.

So far, as a nation, 2025 won’t go down in history as our best year. I’ve every faith that the best is still yet to come. Unlocking that dynamic zest, that quirky imagination, that complex amalgam happens several times every decade. Let’s hope the spark is just about to be set off.

[1] https://www.gq-magazine.co.uk/

[2] https://iftwa.org/history-of-iftwa/

Future of Engineering

I do find it astonishing that back in the early 1990s I was still producing handwritten material that then got typed up by a typist. Then, were edits and errors needed correcting, “cut and paste” really meant cutting and pasting paper. Applying Tipp-Ex correction fluid was normal. Wonder who uses that now? It’s still available.

Engineering practice adopted word processing rapidly from that time on-ward. It’s now almost inconceivable that anyone would get someone else to type up their work. Early lap-top computers that weighted heavily on the shoulders, were carried to meetings as necessity but not love. The joys of trying to find a printer that would work was a daily mission.

In about 30-years we’ve gone from that primitive introduction to the digital realm to machines that want to write papers and reports for us. From brick like “portable” computers that required cables and batteries that drained in minutes to the complete world being available on-line anywhere on the globe.

The mechanisms by which engineering design and development were done have advanced in such a way as to make the past seem rather curious. I’m not saying that we’ve become ever cleverer and more inventive with the passage of time, just that the speed of trail and error has increased dramatically.

Past mechanisms did make the ability to change a path, once set on that path, difficult. I remember the reluctance to introduce changes unless an overwhelming case could be made. In this new situation, making changes still has a cost associated with it, but the resistance to change isn’t so much driven by the processes used.

What’s happing, like it or not, is that artificial intelligence’s transformative impact is touching, or will be touching, everything we do. That includes engineering design and development.

I’d say it’s a good time to be an innovator. In theory, it should be possible to explore many more possibilities that could be explored in the past. That is for the same level of cost in time and money. There’s not a single part of engineering practice that will not be impacted. Classrooms, meeting rooms and workplaces where the business of communicating technical ideas and testing them goes on, will be fertile ground for the application of AI.

I don’t think we understand just how transformative the impact will be on engineering. It’s not all upside either. Technology’s promises are great. There are perils too.

AI can only know what it’s been trained on. That maybe extremely extensive. However, innovation comes from creativity and inventiveness where the past may only be a partial guide. Also, there’s the danger of overreliance on these almost magical tools too. New skills must develop to be critical and knowledge of the deficiencies of complex algorithms.

All of this is a bit different from paper, correction fluid, scissors and tape. What an exciting time to be a young engineer.

Regulatory Insights

I can’t remember if my teacher was talking about maths or physics. His scholarly advice has stuck with me. When things get complex, they can seem overwhelming. Problems seem insolvable. So, it’s good to take a deep breath, step back and see if it’s possible to reduce the problem to its most basic elements. Do what could be called helicopter behaviour. Try to look at the problem top-down, in its simplest form. Break it into parts to see if each part is more easily comprehended.

Today’s international aviation regulatory structure, for design and production, follows the arrow of time. From birth to death. Every commercial aircraft that there ever was started as a set of ideas, progressed to a prototype and, if successful, entered service to have a life in the air.

This elementary aircraft life cycle is embedded in standards as well as aviation rules. Documents like, ARP4754(), Aerospace Recommended Practice (ARP) Guidelines for Development of Civil Aircraft and Systems are constructed in this manner. There are as many graphs and curves that represent the aircraft life cycle as there are views on the subject, but they all have common themes.

That said, the end-of-life scenarios for aircraft of all kinds is often haphazard. Those like the Douglas DC-3 go on almost without end. Fascinatingly, this week, I read of an Airbus A321neo being scrapped after only 6-years of operations. Parts being more valuable than the aircraft.

Generally, flight-time lives in operational service are getting shorter. The pace of technology is such that advances offer commercial and environmental advantages that cannot be resisted. Operating conditions change, business models change and innovation speeds forward.

My earlier proposition was that our traditional aviation regulatory structure is out of date. Well, the detail is ever evolving – it’s true. Some of the fundamentals remain. The arrow of time, however fast the wheels spin, mixing my metaphors, remains an immobile reality.

In airworthiness terms an aircraft life cycle is divided into two halves. Initial airworthiness and continuing airworthiness. This provides for a gate keeper. A design does not advance into operational service, along the aircraft life cycle, until specified standards have been demonstrated as met. An authority has deemed that acceptable standards are met.

I’m arguing, this part of the aviation regulatory structure is far from out of date. However much there’s talk of so called “self-regulation” by industry it has not come into being for commercial aviation. I think there’s good reason for retaining the role that a capable independent authority plays in the system. A gate keeper is there to ensure that the public interest is served. That means safety, security and environmental considerations are given appropriate priority.

To fulfil these basic objectives there’s a need for oversight. That is the transparency needed to ensure confidence is maintained not just for a day but for the whole aircraft life cycle. And so, the case for both design and production approvals remain solid. The devil being in the detail.

Aviation Regulations Outdated?

Machines, like aircraft started life in craft workshops. Fabric and wood put together by skilful artisans. Experimentation being a key part of early aviation. It’s easy to see that development by touring a museum that I’d recommend a visit. At Patchway in Bristol there’s a corner of what was once a huge factory. In fact, somewhere where I worked in the early 1980s. Aerospace Bristol[1] is a story of heritage. A testament to the thousands who have worked there over decades.

Fabric and wood played part in the early days. The factory at Filton in Bristol started life making trams. An integral part of turn of the century city life. Carriage work brought together skilled workers in wood, metal and fabrics. It was soon recognised that these were just the skills needed for the new and emerging aircraft industry. The Bristol Aeroplane Company (BAC) was born.

It’s war that industrialised aviation. Demonstration of the value of air power led to ever more technical developments. Lots of the lessons of Henry Ford were applied to aircraft production. Factories grew in importance, employing a large workforce.

My time at the Filton site was in a building next to a hanger where the Bristol Bulldog[2] was originally produced. This was a single engine fighter, designed in the 1920s, in-service with the Royal Air Force (RAF).

Right from the start orderly processes and regulatory oversight formed part of aircraft design and production. The management of production quality started as a highly prescriptive process. As aviation grew into a global industry, the risks associated with poor design or faulty production became all too apparent.

In the civil industry, regulatory systems developed to address the control of design and production as two different worlds. Airworthiness, or fitness to fly, depended on having a good design that was produced in a consistent and reliable manner. So, now we have a regulatory framework with two pivotal concepts: DOA (Design Organisation Approval) and POA (Production Organisation Approval). It took about a century to get here. Now, these concepts are codified within EASA Part 21, FAA regulations, and other national aviation authorities’ frameworks.

Here’s my more controversial point. Is this internationally accepted regulatory model, that has evolved, conditioned by circumstances, the right one for the future? Are the airworthiness concepts of DOA and POA out of date?

This is a question that nobody wants to hear. Evolution has proved to be a successful strategy. At least, to date. What I’m wondering is, now the world of traditional factories and large administrative workforces is passing, how will regulation adjust to meet future needs?

Maybe I’ll explore that subject next.

[1] https://aerospacebristol.org/

[2] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bristol_Bulldog

Paper in a Digital Age

It’s oblong and made of paper. My phone is oblong and made of a long list of exotic elements. Paper on the other hand is relatively simple. I’m sure a paperologist will correct me and describe its subtleties and complexities. Regardless, paper has been around for a long time.

Both have an ephemeral quality. Paper decays. It burns and bugs eat it. Digital media gets lost, overwritten or deleted. Without wires and suitable equipment, it doesn’t exist.

I think that God forbid, that if Armageddon did come to place, we’d find more paper remaining useful than surviving digital help. Henry Bemis[1] loved to read. Strangely, that’s what saved him from ultimate destruction. Try writing an equivalent story with an iPhone in hand and we would be disappointed with the results. That would really see a sad Bemis doom scrolling empty nothingness.

Contuining the banking theme. What I’m refereeing to here is an envelope containing my latest bank statement. Yes, I haven’t ticked the go paperless box on-line. To me there’s something reassuring about having a tangible paper copy of what exists in the digital ether. Even though it’s only a printout, it somehow feels more real.

Holding a statement in my hand, whatever its errors or miscalculations it cannot be altered. Unlike an on-line digital reading that a capable cybercriminal can flip in a second. Both have an ephemeral quality. One exudes a greater feeling of permanence.

Above “ephemeral” is the right word to use. My banking App on my phone is a good service. However, it encourages a certain neurosis. Whereas a paper bank statement turns up, periodically as a personal balance sheet summing up the ins and outs of a month, my App is changeable hour by hour, a less meaningful snapshot.

The News is full of this phenomenon. Snap shots of the county’s GDP going up and down every month are newsworthy but don’t tell us much about where we are going. That doesn’t stop politicians treating them as if they were a sign from some mythical deity. A small number that changes within a range of error doesn’t mark a beginning or end of an era.

I like tangible things. A paper report or statement is a tangible thing. I can hold it in my hand. It doesn’t change from moment to moment. It’s a record of a direction set, not an hourly windvane. However unfashionable, as a crusty gentleman of a certain age, I will continue to ask for a printed record of where I am and where I’ve been.

[1] https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0734683/

What’s in a box?

I didn’t have a jack-in-the-box as a toy. Springing into life at the flick of a catch. For the larger part frightening the living daylights out of a young child. Or is it play, and thus basic training that surprising events can be scary and fun? Early days of leaning to handle risks.

In this case my boxes are square. Although they don’t need to be square. They are square or rectangular on a ballot paper (usually). These boxes are a boundary within which a mark is put to say “yes” this applies or “no” this is does not apply. Naturally, that can be the other way around too. For that matter they can indicate all sorts of conditions or views.

Here’s my beef. Back in March, this year, me and the Sun developed our relationship. There’s the giveaway – year. My number of years on Earth clocked up to sixty-five. At the time, I didn’t think of this as any more significant than past birthdays as a man of mature years. Then I got to completing numerous questionaries. Yes, I have moved the subject to more stuff to do with data and its use. Collecting data has never been so popular.

Never in the whole of human history have we, you and me, been faced with so many questionnaires. Almost every time I buy a coffee, and use a card of App to collect points, next day my in-box has an e-mail with a survey. Most of these I just ignore. Now and then, I fill one in with the ridiculous idea that the insignificant draw prize they offer could come my way.

Please offer your feedback in this short survey. The number of minutes they say that are needed are never right. Then they, the collectors of my data, get greedy. Asking for “as much detail as possible”. At this point I want to say – get real. What’s even worse is clicking on the “Next” button and then an error message comes up saying “This is required”. What audacity. Checky. Pushing my good will to its limits. If there were questionnaires about questionnaires, when it asked: “please tell us how your experience was on this occasion” they would get more than 100 creative words.

All this said, my real beef is to do with the collection of personal data. There’s no obligation to provide such data, when it comes to marketing surveys. This is when the incentivising possibility of a prize comes in. Afterall this data is valuable to the collectors with little incentive for a respondent to offer it. Surveys with prizes must have published terms and conditions. I wonder if anyone ever reads these legal niceties.

To the point. One question that often gets asked is – tick the box appropriate to my age. What I’ve noticed is that several of these unsolicited surveys have a box marked sixty-five and over. It’s like a whole section of the population is piled into one big bucket. Like we all fall off the end of the bell curve. Over 11 million people in England and Wales are like one.

I’m part of a growing cohort. That maybe good or bad but it is the case. It’s the case too that my cohort spends. Again, for good or bad, we are the beneficiaries of some good fortune. However, marketing surveys continue to sit in the stone age. At both ends of the demographic bell curve, toddlers and more mature folk, we are viewed as the same, one big bucket. I imagine data collectors and the designers of surveys have wrestled with this one. Whatever, the results don’t sit well with me.