Boeing 737. (Bangkok Post file photo)

In 1959 a French passenger plane took the aviation world by storm with its sleek design and rear-mounted twin engines. Passengers flocked to enjoy the novel Caravelle jet service as airlines raced to place orders, abandoning the crash-plagued de Havilland Comet, which had spectacularly ushered in the passenger jet era in 1952.

With the British Aircraft Corp BAC One-Eleven already in the air and the McDonnell Douglas DC-9 grinding through its design phase, Boeing had decided by 1960 that it urgently needed a short-haul "feeder" jet to complement its mid-range Boeing 707-120. That's when the 737 idea sprang to life.

While late to the party, with initial orders placed in 1965 and first flights in 1967, the single-aisle 737 has gone on to become the most successful aircraft model in history, on a par with the legendary twin-prop workhorse, the Douglas DC-3, and the 747 jumbo.

The 737 has racked up a phenomenal 10,000 deliveries -- and 4,600 more in its groaning order book, prompting the American company to ramp up production to 52 aircraft a month. Yet by mid-March 2019 the 737 Max fleet had been grounded worldwide.

The fast-unfolding script was unusual in that the industry safety bellwether, the US Federal Aviation Administration, was the last to act as Boeing lobbied feverishly to keep its planes in the air. Finally, as countries from Canada to China grounded their fleets, President Donald Trump stepped in to deliver the coup de grace.

EERIE SIMILARITIES

The Ethiopian Airlines flight that plunged from the skies on March 10, killing all 157 on board, eerily mirrored the Lion Air crash into the Java Sea near Jakarta last Oct 29. And it set alarm bells ringing around the world with major repercussions for the aircraft manufacturer.

Confronted by a second fatal incident involving a 737 Max 8 and angered by Boeing's suggestion that poor maintenance or pilot error may have played a crucial role, Lion Air moved to reconsider its US$22-billion, 200-aircraft order. The Indonesian flag carrier Garuda might follow suit.

Has technological wizardry got in the way of human skill and judgement? The Max 8 is an impressive plane, but, as with its predecessors on the 737 line, it had its niggles. Because of larger, repositioned engines (altering the weight balance) and a naturally high angle of attack, low-power performance stuttered with a tendency to stall at slower speeds.

Boeing's fix was to install an all-new MCAS (manoeuvring characteristics augmentation system) designed to bring an aircraft's nose down to increase speed and augment lift in low-speed situations. During the flaps-out take-off phase, as the ill-fated planes banked sharply before gaining speed, the MCAS would have been triggered.

The MCAS is a major new addition to the 737. Incredibly, it was not highlighted to pilots who, even after the Lion Air incident, were unaware of this feature or why it had been introduced despite a belated bulletin from Boeing.

In the early 1990s, two mysterious crashes in the United States involving a United 737-200 and a US Air 737-300 had aviation circles stumped until investigators traced it to a faulty valve that caused a rudder malfunction. Three other crashes -- China Southern in 1992, a Sahara Airlines training flight in 1994 and a SilkAir flight over Indonesia in December 1997 -- followed in alarmingly similar fashion.

In each case the results were either inconclusive or cited pilot error or "intent" (as in the case of SilkAir). The Singapore carrier's insurer took the matter to court in Los Angeles, and Boeing eventually retracted its "pilot suicide" claim, arriving at an out-of-court settlement.

What has emerged over the years is a pattern of obfuscation by Boeing; its consistent deflection of media discussion to pilot incompetence or poor maintenance; intense political lobbying by the aircraft manufacturer (a major player in US military contracts); and a dangerously cosy relationship with the FAA.

The Washington Post reports that in October 2017, Brazilian airline regulators checking the new 737 Max 8 concluded that they needed "over 60 operational changes", including having pilots familiarise themselves with the MCAS with additional supervised flight hours. At about the same time, the FAA published Max 8 pilot training guidelines that "did not once mention the anti-stall system", the newspaper reported.

This egregious lapse is easier to comprehend when one looks at the manner in which the FAA manages its certification procedure. Strapped for funds and lacking manpower as its remit grew dramatically after the Sept 11, 2001 terrorist attacks, the agency outsourced critical tasks and vetting.

SELF-SERVE CERTIFICATION

This has resulted in an absurd situation where Boeing engineers perform tests on their own aircraft while other Boeing personnel certify the models "acting as representatives" of the FAA (all the while pressured by airline management -- which pays their salaries -- to speed up the process).

Boeing isn't the only company allowed to self-certify its products. As many as 80 different companies are afforded the same privilege. FAA engineers expressed their disapproval of this procedure as early as 2012. The discussion was shelved.

The basic fuselage of the Max 8 has not changed from the first 737s, though the cigar tube has grown longer to accommodate 210 passengers at 39.52 metres in length. The Max 10 will accommodate 230. The original aircraft seated 85.

The larger General Electric engines on the Max 8 necessitated a repositioning of the mounts and an elevation of the nose wheel to provide sufficient clearance for the engine housing on a low-slung plane. A toxic combination of design flaws and sloppy certification raises questions for not just the Max 8, but for other multi-generation aircraft that have outgrown their original design parameters.

Passenger safety will require a muscular new approach to oversight and the swift dismantling of the nexus between the examiner and examinee. The regulatory framework must look at the integrity of new aircraft designs, as well as seemingly innocuous cost savings on assembly lines that may have a multiplier effect on product performance. The focus must be on saving lives, not cost. Planes that fall out of the skies don't sell.