There is a peculiar, almost absurd irony in the fact that the very devices we rely on to keep us connected and calm on a long flight are now being scrutinised as potential fire hazards. The Civil Aviation Authority is preparing to issue new safety guidance for UK carriers, and the culprits are not the lithium-ion batteries in laptops or phones, but the portable power banks and vapes that have become ubiquitous accessories of modern travel.
It is a development that speaks volumes about our changing habits. A decade ago, the biggest in-flight fire risks were smoking in the loo or faulty wiring in the galley. Now, as we huddle over our screens, desperate for a charge, or step outside for a nervous puff before boarding, the technology we have embraced is turning on us. The CAA’s move follows a string of incidents, including a fire on a Virgin Atlantic flight last year that was caused by a power bank in a passenger's bag, and a near-disaster when a vapouriser malfunctioned in a seat pocket.
To understand the panic, one must first appreciate the ferocity of a lithium-ion battery fire. It is not a gentle flame that can be patted out with a napkin. It is a chemical inferno, capable of reaching temperatures of over 600 degrees Celsius in seconds, and releasing toxic gases. In the confined space of an aircraft cabin, it is a nightmare scenario. The firefighting crews have special containment bags and thermal blankets, but the real battle is prevention.
What is fascinating from a social perspective is how quickly these items have embedded themselves into our daily rituals. Power banks have become a must-have for the digital nomad, the nervous traveller, the teenager glued to TikTok. Vapes, once a niche alternative for smokers, now outsell cigarettes in many markets. They are carried in pockets, tossed into handbags, and forgotten until a telltale burning smell fills the air.
The CAA’s new guidance is expected to request airlines to limit the number of power banks per passenger, possibly banning those that are not clearly marked with the battery capacity. For vapes, the advice will likely centre around stowage: they must not be in checked luggage, and they should be switched off. But here is the rub: enforcement will be almost impossible. Security staff cannot test every device, and passengers will continue to carry them in ignorance.
This is not merely a safety issue; it is a cultural shift laid bare. We are addicted to power, both literal and metaphorical. We cannot bear the thought of a dead phone, a missed notification, or a nicotine craving. And in our eagerness to keep going, we have introduced a new risk into our lives, one that the aviation industry is still scrambling to understand.
The real question is whether the guidance will change behaviour. In a world where convenience is king, and the fear of a flat battery outweighs the abstract threat of a fiery crash, it is more likely that passengers will continue to pack their power banks, blame the airline for any inconvenience, and expect someone else to solve the problem. The CAA can issue all the bulletins it wants, but until we as a society reconsider our relationship with these devices, the risk will remain.
As I write this, I see a young woman at the gate plugging her phone into a battered power bank, e-cigarette poking out of her coat pocket. She is oblivious to the bulletin being drafted. And perhaps that is the heart of the matter: we have become so accustomed to plugging in, that we have forgotten what it means to be disconnected, both from the grid and from the very real dangers that power brings.
