7C) Death

I’ve complained about waste from my passengers, but there’s one source of waste I’m yet to consider: my own rotting corpse.

A British Airways 747-400 with the 'Negus' retro livery

Let’s return to my retirement flight to St Athan, where this blog started. As I approach this former RAF airfield, I am hit with the realisation that this will be my last landing. Ever. Luckily for me, my tears are hidden amongst the raindrops that are commonplace in the gloomy Welsh countryside. So why have I come all the way out here? Well, St Athan is home to eCube Solutions, one of the UK's foremost aircraft scrapping facilities. It is, essentially, a cemetery where oldies like me will die slowly and painfully as our body parts are taken out one by one.

But I'm not alone. Each year, 700 aircraft are decommissioned for economic reasons after 20-30 years of service. Some lucky planes are converted into freighters, used as engine testbeds or bought second-hand, but they remain a minority. Unfortunately, the coronavirus pandemic has accelerated the retirement of 747s amongst other aircraft at airlines like KLM, Lufthansa and Virgin Atlantic. The already struggling A380 will likely reach the same fate - with Air France recently retiring their A380s - as it is simply not economically feasible to run an aircraft with 500+ seats at a time when airlines can't even fill their smallest planes.

Qantas 747 converted into an engine testbed (Source: Rolls Royce)

But let’s try to look at the positives. My retirement, although sad for me and my AvGeek fans, sees more fuel-efficient aircraft replace me (like my baby, the B787 Dreamliner). Aircraft decommissioning has also become a more efficient process in recent years. Airbus research, suggests that over 90% of my critical life systems (engines, avionics) are reused, repurposed or recycled as opposed to 50% in 2005. I’m essentially an organ donor; my engines can outlive my body a few times over and therefore provide a cheaper (£2-3million) alternative to purchasing newer ones (£24million).

All in all, up to 50% of my total weight is returned to the parts distribution pipeline, including my wheels, APU, A/C units and evacuation slides. Kemble airfield in England has gone even further by selling parts to non-aviation markets: for example, wings were sold to movie studios to construct crash scenes, fuselages to museums and seats for air hostess and pilot training courses. One could even argue that this salvaging process further reduces emissions from manufacturing, with a scrap aluminium using 85-95% less energy compared to if new aluminium was used.

Two British Airways aircraft being scrapped at Mojave Air and Space port in California (Source: Speedbird HD)

Nevertheless, these are optimistic scenarios based on best practices: research suggests that only 20% of parts can be sold within 18 months of disassembly, provided they pass current airline standards, are in good condition and in-demand; non-aviation markets are limited in scope; and many aircraft remain in scrapyards for years because the cost of transporting them to recycling facilities is often unjustifiable. Decommissioning produces 30,000 tonnes of aluminium each year, half of which is wasted.

But what is the fate of new-generation composite planes which cannot be conventionally recycled. Boeing now recycles the 453 tonnes of composites wasted during manufacturing each year, but this has limited viability for end-of-life disposal. Unlike cars and electronics, there are no legally-binding regulations for end-of-life disposal of aircraft with corporate social responsibility being the only driver of recycling amongst manufacturers. Given 15,000 aircraft are set to be retired by 2050, my family needs to further address the 50% of my body that is left to rot in scrapyards.

BA 747s in Victorville boneyard, California (Source: Carlos Enamorado, Airliners.net)