In the world of aviation, safety is sacrosanct. Every checklist, every simulator session, every pilot hour logged is underpinned by the singular pursuit of ensuring that aircraft operate within tightly controlled margins of safety. And yet, in some rare and paradoxical cases, an airline can reach a size where — even when its operations exhibit persistent safety lapses — it becomes virtually immune to the consequences that smaller entities would inevitably face. Air India is one such case.
A Crisis Hidden in Plain Sight
The Directorate General of Civil Aviation (DGCA), India’s aviation regulator, recently flagged 51 safety violations by Air India in an audit conducted after the catastrophic crash of Flight AI171, a Boeing 787-8, on June 12, 2025. Among the issues were the use of unapproved simulators, training gaps for pilots flying high-risk routes, fatigue-related violations, and inadequate rostering systems that failed to ensure minimum required crew on flights.
Seven of these breaches were classified as Level I, the most serious category of violation under India’s Civil Aviation Requirements. Some flights were operated without sufficient cabin crew, pilots were assigned duty hours that violated fatigue regulations, and instructors lacked proper approvals. These findings alone would be sufficient to ground any airline in a robust safety culture. But not Air India.
Despite damning evidence, no fleet was grounded. No executives were held publicly accountable. No routes were suspended. Instead, a compliance deadline was given: fix the worst problems by July 30, and the rest by August 23.
Business as usual continues.
The Anatomy of Immunity
Air India is no longer just an airline; it is a critical node in India’s national and international connectivity matrix. As a flag carrier, its brand bears the emotional weight of Indian identity, legacy, and ambition. It operates a sprawling global network, employs tens of thousands directly, and indirectly supports countless others across tourism, airport services, logistics, and retail.
The airline’s systemic importance grants it a kind of immunity rarely seen outside of banking or national security infrastructure. Like “too big to fail” banks during the 2008 global financial crisis, Air India is “too big to ground.” Shutting it down would unleash chaos across sectors and potentially trigger a domino effect: economic losses, stranded passengers, diplomatic embarrassment, and massive job losses. As a result, the safety narrative becomes secondary to political and economic calculus.
When Size Defangs Regulation
This immunity sends a dangerous signal across the industry. When a national carrier is allowed to operate despite glaring safety gaps, what incentive remains for private carriers to adhere strictly to regulations? It dilutes the authority of the regulator and undermines the very foundation of Just Culture, which relies on equal enforcement, accountability, and learning from failures.
Worse, it creates regulatory capture, where oversight agencies become reluctant to enforce penalties against institutions they perceive as indispensable. In this model, audits are conducted not to correct course or ensure accountability, but to create the illusion of oversight while preserving the operational status quo.
What the Audit Revealed
Here are some key findings from the DGCA audit and prior inspections:
These are not clerical errors. These are systemic failures that strike at the core of flight safety: training, fatigue, crew preparedness, and oversight.
AI 171: A Wake-Up Call Ignored
The crash of Flight AI 171 in Ahmedabad that killed 260 people should have catalysed radical reforms. Initial data shows both engines shut down uncommanded shortly after takeoff, followed by deployment of the Ram Air Turbine (RAT) — a sign of catastrophic electrical failure. Pilots were reportedly not at fault, yet the system failed them. Was it a failure in engineering, power management, or design? Or was it a symptom of the same rot that audits are now unearthing?
Instead of ushering in transparency, the official narrative began leaning on pilot error. This redirection protects stakeholders but delays true reform.
Why No One Can Shut Air India
The answer is structural. Air India now sits at the intersection of politics, nationalism, and economic policy. It is wholly owned by the Tata Group — a business conglomerate that is itself seen as an extension of India’s industrial and philanthropic legacy. The Government has a stake in seeing the Air India divestment succeed, and grounding the airline would appear as a failure of both state and private enterprise.
There is also legal ambiguity. Indian aviation law, including Rule 12 of the Aircraft (Investigation of Accidents and Incidents) Rules, 2012, permits judicial inquiry into aircraft accidents involving systemic failure. But such provisions are rarely invoked — perhaps because doing so might open a Pandora’s box implicating multiple stakeholders, including regulators.
Judiciaries rarely intervene in aviation operations unless explicitly petitioned, and political leadership — under pressure to project an image of modern, efficient governance — is unlikely to paralyse its national carrier.
What Can Be Done?
A Dangerous Precedent
Air India today represents a case study in how institutions can grow so large, so integral, and so politically entwined that they transcend traditional models of accountability. The question is no longer whether Air India is safe — it is whether its size precludes it from ever being held accountable. This paradox threatens the very foundation of aviation safety in India. If audits don’t result in grounding, if violations don’t carry consequences, and if crashes don’t lead to change, then aviation safety becomes a theatre — a ritual with no teeth. And when that happens, flying remains a miracle — but one built borrowed time.
(The writer is Founder, Safety Matters Foundation, Aviation Safety Advocate and Human Factors Researcher)