As more information emerges about the lead-up to two crashes of Boeing’s 737 MAX — including a new report in the Wall Street Journal about early FAA concerns — many want to know what is being done to make sure something like this doesn’t happen again.
Boeing is the ultimate symbol of 20th century American ingenuity: innovation, engineering, and the delivery of great planes that fueled a global industry, while broadcasting American power over the world’s skies. It took the joint investment of three governments nearly three decades to achieve a real competitive equilibrium with Airbus. America’s largest exporter by far, Boeing can single-handedly dent US GDP numbers. In fact, some economists predicted overall GDP would drop by 0.2 points in the second quarter of this year as a result of the 737 MAX troubles.
In short, Boeing’s success is directly tied to America’s success.
With its 20th century prosperity, it is not surprising that Boeing would turn to 20th century public relations in a time of crisis. For decades, most large corporations have navigated disasters by following the counsel of their lawyers, crafting every statement through the filter of liability management. In this tight-lipped approach, even a hint of responsibility gets scrubbed from all communications.
Or so the company may think. There may have been a time when it was possible to craft a public narrative through controlled statements, but today’s hungry media consumers find something different for themselves. Whether a company sends out a press release or not, it is impossible not to tune out the torrent of information roaring by – and streaming from devices directly to consumers, regulators and fellow competitors. If a company experiencing crisis does not provide answers, the information flows to the public all the same at the expense of corporate reputation and consumer trust.
The result in Boeing’s case is that independent storytellers have written a gripping thriller without the company’s help: Flight records showing the rollercoaster descent of the Lion Air and Ethiopian aircraft emerged from FlightRadar24 and other aircraft tracking websites. Both cases were corroborated by independent pilots’ postings in the NASA-run aviation safety reporting database, NASA ASRS. Reports of the faulty AOA sensor were revealed in an investigation by the Seattle Times. Explanations about why it could be difficult to overcome the electronic MCAS system using the hand-cranked trim wheel were put forward immediately after the preliminary investigation report was released by the Ethiopian Ministry of Transport, and confirmed shortly thereafter in flight simulator sessions emulating the doomed Lion Air flight.
As each of these reports emerged, Boeing has stuck to its talking points: safety is a top priority, the aircraft was safe but of course we will try to make it even safer and pilots did not “completely” follow procedures. Even independent board members with full oversight responsibility believe they are “not allowed to comment on anything related to these accidents,” according to board member David L. Calhoun, a Senior Managing Director at Blackstone Group.
This is not an uncommon strategy. Beyond fears of corporate liability, it is a tenet of aviation safety that accidents should be fully investigated before they are discussed, lest preliminary theories distract or cloud the analysis. Moreover, the engineering issues at hand are complex and nuanced. It is quite possible that no single individual understood the combination of decisions the company had made, or how those decisions could play out in every cockpit situation.
In many ways, these complexities underscore just why it is no longer possible for the government to inspect every element of the certification process. By one estimate, the FAA would require an additional 10,000 engineers to be able to conduct the full aircraft certification process by itself. Most engineers with that know-how already work for one of the aircraft manufacturers, making some kind of self-certification a practical necessity. Aerostructures and avionics do not come off the line like steaks in a meat processing plant, passing by government inspectors for approval.
And yet, that very complexity and nuance underscores just why a traditional top-down approach to communication is bound to fail. What consumers expect today is speed, transparency and the voice of real human beings. Somewhere on the internet, they will find all three. In the 737 MAX case, the media has been eager to report from a wide variety of sources.
It is hard to imagine any company with the capability to control such a difficult message from the top-down. Even if they could, however, they would fail the tests of authenticity and, even more certainly, speed. Today’s news cycle is simply too fast to stay ahead of third-party insights by peddling company statements drafted by committees and vetted by counsel.
Which is why radical transparency is the only solution.
In time, the 737 MAX will return to the skies and passengers will fly on it, consciously or not. No airline wants to see the market shrink to a single supplier, and there is no guarantee that Airbus is immune from similar culture or pressures. (Indeed, Airbus embraced heavy electronics in the cockpit long before Boeing.)
Boeing is reportedly planning to engage pilots as spokespeople when the aircraft is ready to fly again. Not surprisingly, some pilots are unsure of this strategy..
The playbook for restoring public confidence after scandal was initially written by Johnson & Johnson in 1982, when Tylenol capsules laced with cyanide killed seven people. J&J issued a nationwide recall, led the way to tamper-resistant packaging for drugs, and moved the industry away from capsules, all while projecting openness and honesty with the media.
In more recent cases, such as the diesel emissions scandal at Volkswagen, public trust only began to turn around when the companies admitted ownership of the events and offered up their own engineers as sources. The Volkswagen conversation also included a serious discussion about company culture and a desire to change it. However, their efforts to restore corporate reputation, internal morale and customer trust were reactionary.
The public still doesn’t know all the details of how or why two Boeing 737-800 MAX aircraft went down. As with most aircraft accidents, the cause probably involves many factors that unfortunately aligned on these two flights and not on others. We do know, however, that a cornerstone of aviation safety is the idea that participants report what they know without fear of reprisal, with the goal of improving safety and reliability of the entire system.
Similarly, radical transparency is the key to successful crisis management in today’s digitally connected world. Boeing has an opportunity to emerge from the 737 MAX scandal as the industry leader it has historically been. However, getting there means embracing the tools of 21st century communication: speaking honestly, quickly, and with authenticity directly to stakeholders in global aviation safety — not just Boeing.
