It has been a year since the Air India Express crash at Kozhikode, a tragedy that claimed 18 lives and left many more scarred. For the families of the victims, the grief is raw and unending. But for the rest of us, particularly in the UK, the lessons from that disaster must not fade. They are a stark reminder that aviation safety is a living, breathing discipline where complacency is fatal.
The crash of flight IX-1344 on August 7, 2020, was not a random act of fate. The final report from India's aviation regulator pointed to pilot error, poor crew resource management, and a lack of adherence to standard operating procedures. The aircraft, a Boeing 737-800, touched down in heavy rain on a tabletop runway at Calicut International Airport. It overshot, plunged into a gorge, and broke apart.
For the UK, this is more than a distant tragedy. Our own aviation standards have been shaped by past disasters: the 1989 Kegworth air crash, the 1985 Manchester runway fire, and the 1994 Chinook crash on the Mull of Kintyre. Each forced changes in cockpit procedures, crew training, and risk management. The Air India crash should do the same.
The key lesson is the danger of 'normalising deviance'. In aviation, this is when crews gradually accept lower standards as normal. In the Kozhikode case, the pilots attempted a landing in conditions that exceeded the aircraft's crosswind limits. They continued an approach that was unstabilised. They did not go around. This pattern is alarmingly common and has been cited in major accidents including the 2015 Germanwings crash and the 2010 Air India Express tragedy in Mangalore.
The UK's Civil Aviation Authority (CAA) has long championed threat and error management and crew resource management. But the question remains: are these lessons being fully absorbed by the industry? Budget airlines, increased pilot turnover, and the pressure of post-COVID recovery risk diluting training standards. The Air India crash is a warning that what is taught in the classroom must be rigorously applied in the cockpit.
Another vital lesson involves runway safety. The UK has several challenging airports: London City with its steep approach, Madeira’s Funchal, and Jersey’s short strip. But the UK must also consider its reliance on tabletop runways and the need for more sophisticated runway safety systems. Runway overruns are a leading cause of accidents worldwide, and the UK's investment in better arrestor beds and stopways could prevent a future disaster.
For the travelling public, these lessons are not abstract. Every time you board a flight, you trust that the pilots are trained to handle emergencies, that the aircraft is maintained to the highest standards, and that the regulators are vigilant. The Air India crash shows that trust cannot be blind. The families of those lost deserve to see real change.
In the UK, the CAA and the Air Accidents Investigation Branch are independent and thorough. But they operate within a political and economic context where cost-cutting is often prioritised over safety. The pandemic has brought financial pressures to every airline, and there are fears that training budgets have been squeezed. The government must ensure that safety never falls victim to the bottom line.
A year on, the grief is still heavy. For the 18 families, nothing will bring back their loved ones. But for the millions of passengers who fly from UK airports each year, the Air India crash should be a call to action. We must learn, we must remember, and we must demand that safety is always the first priority.
