Side note: now that I've finished my geography midterm, we'll be resuming our regularly scheduled
L E A R N I N G.
Hold onto your butts, and get ready for the
Three Body Problem.
Let’s dive headfirst into the aviation world once more. We’re gonna look at the Lockheed L-1011 – a plane so advanced, it could autoland itself. Which is impressive not only because this is 60s tech, but because Category IIIC ILS (which permits modern aircraft with such capability to land in zero visibility weather) still isn’t widespread
today. It was a technological marvel. It was spacious. It was adored by pilots, it was reliable, it was quiet, and above all, it was
far safer than the DC-10 could’ve ever hoped to be. So why did it fail? Let’s find out.
An unusually happy L-1011 belonging to defunct Pacific Southwest Airlines.
Let’s start at the beginning, and with the Boeing 747. The 747 was a game changer when it was introduced, being the first widebody airliner to enter production (i.e., requiring two aisles for passenger embarkment). With the immense upgrade in passenger and cargo capacity for what was a relatively low fuel penalty, global travel became more accessible than ever before -
if these planes were fully loaded at all times. But not everyone was convinced by Boeing’s go-big-or-go-home attitude. Frank Kolk, chief engineer at American Airlines, wasn’t convinced airlines would ever consistently sell close to the 500+ seats that a 747 could carry. Seeking a more modest 350 seat target, he sent out a contract bid to the major American aircraft manufacturers of the time. Of the three surveyed, Boeing was too busy counting their money from 747 sales, but two came back willing to do a clean sheet design – Lockheed and Douglas.
Immediately, both manufacturers realized they wouldn’t be able to make the twin engine they wanted due to the FAA’s ’60-minute rule.’ A basic rundown of this rule is that a twin engine aircraft must be within 60 minutes of land at all times, making transatlantic crossings unfeasible and basically voiding the purpose of this build. But at the same time, a quad engine jet would be too inefficient, and run into the same problems as the 747. So a natural compromise was made:
“
Two plus two is four, minus one that's three, quick maths”
-Big Shaq,
Man’s Not Hot
Both Douglas and Lockheed opted for a trijet design, with two wing mounted engines and one in the tail. Douglas’ design was rather straightforward, with the engine being part of the vertical stabilizer. But Lockheed mounted theirs in the tail cone of the aircraft, taking in air through an s-duct. This design choice would impose severe restrictions on engine size, bringing us to critical failure number one:
Rolls-Royce screwed over Lockheed by overpromising and underdelivering.
Rolls Royce had, at the time, a design called the RB-211 turbofan. Compared to its competitors, it was more efficient, lighter, and crucially, more compact. This meant it could be installed where Lockheed wanted it, including in the tail. The problem was, Rolls-Royce hadn’t quite…
finished the RB-211. The performance data they gave Lockheed was speculative at best, and numerous prototypes were consistently failing to meet the specs they promised Lockheed. As a result of Rolls-Royce not delivering, the DC-10 would be the first to enter service while Lockheed sat fighting delays from across the board. The spotty development of the RB-211 would be cited by Rolls-Royce in their bankruptcy hearings as the main cause of their financial troubles, ignoring most of the lying that they did to sell a product they didn’t have.
The Rolls-Royce RB-211
Now to shorten the story a bit, Rolls-Royce became nationalized by the British government and eventually made a functioning engine that met Lockheed’s specs. So credit where it’s due, they did (eventually) deliver. But the damage had been done, and the L-1011 was already struggling in the background. You see, what made Lockheed an underdog in the trijet competition was that Lockheed’s main industry was
military aviation. They had made the SR-71 just a few years prior to the beginning of the Tristar project, but they hadn’t had much experience in civil aviation outside of the troubled turboprop L-188 Electra. Which was critical failure number two:
American Airlines declined the L-1011 in favour of Douglas’ track record in civil aviation, and the new Airbus A300 undercut it HARD.
Even as the DC-10 started shedding engine parts and cargo doors faster than a college freshman sheds responsibilities, Douglas was ultimately a proven manufacturer. Lockheed had gambled on developing new technology, while Douglas had gone for simpler, proven designs. Hell, Douglas had built their empire on commercial aviation, whereas Lockheed couldn’t even publicly brag about their crowning achievement - the SR-71 - thanks to how shrouded in secrecy it was at the time. The DC-10 would go on to solve their engineering mistakes and ultimately would erase their checkered history, earning a safety record on par with other second-generation airliners by 2008. It wasn’t ever on the L-1011’s level as far as technological advancement or safety, but it didn’t need to be. It had a known name, and a wide service network – two critical advantages the L-1011 didn’t have.
The DC-10 involved in the crash of United 232 - N1819U.
With their chief buyer out of the market, the L-1011 had to find new buyers. Not too much of a hassle, after all, it was a niche that had potential…until Airbus came into play. The new A300, launched just two years after the L-1011, was a gamble by Airbus. The newly formed company that used to be
Sud Aviation and
Aerospatiale, amongst others, was willing to bet that the FAA would repeal their Extended-range Twin-engine Operational Performance Standards, or ETOPS, which dictated the 60-minute rule. If successful (spoiler alert: it was), the A300 could go straight for the L-1011 and DC-10 where they couldn’t compete at all – efficiency.
The Airbus A300 - the first Airbus, and ultimately the winner of the trijet competition.
So with the market rapidly dwindling, Lockheed found themselves regretting their engineering. They had made themselves a plane that was light years ahead of the competition, taking the brunt of a lot of developmental budget overruns and delays that came with it. To make matters worse, the L-1011 was barely meeting half of Lockheed’s expected sales, and the company couldn’t ride out any further delays without facing bankruptcy. It didn’t matter that the plane was loved by pilots and passengers, or that it was a technological marvel. Nor did its many redundant systems and excellent safety record. So when you’re managing a company on the brink of failure with a product that isn’t selling itself like you thought it would, what would you do?
Why, start a massive bribery campaign, of course!
…Yeah. This was critical failure number three:
Lockheed bribed the shit out of buyers. I hope I don’t have to explain why this is a bad thing.
Now to be fair, Lockheed wasn’t
only bribing L-1011 customers – it was buying its way into a number of defense contracts as well. But a critical point of the Lockheed bribery scandal of the 70s is that Lockheed paid nearly 2.4B Japanese Yen to secure a contract with All Nippon Airways, or ANA. ANA, who had previously announced an option to purchase 10 DC-10s, very suddenly changed their minds and bought 21 L-1011s instead. Unlike some of the other “deals” that went down where Lockheed was forced to abandon the contracts in part or whole, ANA was allowed to take delivery of their Tristars. But bad business is ultimately bad for business, and the L-1011 ceased production in 1984, just 12 years after entering service. Lockheed would never attempt to make another commercial aircraft.
The Stargazer (N140SC) - the last airworthy L-1011.
Today, 31 DC-10s of the original 400 are still in service, mostly through FedEx. In contrast, only one L-1011 of 250 is in regular use – N140SC – a mothership owned and modified by Northrop-Grumman and its predecessor, Orbital ATK. Today, it's been gutted of its passenger interior and modified to take rockets up to altitude on its belly, before releasing and launching them. To date, it’s launched 44 rockets and put 95 satellites into orbit. A fitting end for what was the most technologically advanced failure in aviation history.
@Tazmo's TL;DR: Nobody buys plane.