In aviation, safety is supposed to be boring. Predictable. Procedural. Relentlessly consistent. When a regulator, DGCA, does its job well, it rarely makes headlines. When it doesn’t, the consequences arrive suddenly and often long after the warning signs were visible to everyone except those empowered to act.

India’s civil aviation regulator, the DGCA, has repeatedly found itself at the centre of uncomfortable questions. Today, we ask whether it has become a regulator that reacts sharply under public pressure, but hesitates, dilutes, or defers when enforcement threatens entrenched interests or operational convenience.

A close reading of recent events – from a fatal charter crash to fare shocks, safety-rule rollbacks, delayed investigations, and internal scapegoating – suggests this is no longer a question of isolated lapses. It is a pattern.

Swift When It Must Be Seen, Slow When It Must Be Firm

The crash of a Learjet 45 in Baramati, killing Maharashtra deputy chief minister Ajit Pawar and four others, triggered immediate regulatory action. Within days, DGCA ordered a special audit of the charter operator, VSR Ventures Pvt Ltd, directing inspectors to examine maintenance practices and flight operations and submit findings on a tight deadline.

The speed was notable. So was the contrast.

The same operator had earlier lost another Learjet 45—VT-DBL—in a 2023 accident at Mumbai airport during bad weather. That aircraft broke into two pieces and was destroyed. All occupants survived, but the incident raised serious questions. A preliminary report was issued by the Aircraft Accident Investigation Bureau (AAIB), confirming that flight data, maintenance records, crew details, ATC communication, and warning-system inputs were under analysis.

More than two years later, the final report remains unpublished.

The difference between these two responses is not procedural nuance – it is regulatory temperament – when political sensitivity and public glare are intense, urgency follows. When accountability requires persistence, uncomfortable conclusions, or sustained pressure on operators, the system slows to a crawl.

Safety regulation cannot function on selective adrenaline.

Under-Logging, Over-Flying, and the Comfort of Looking Away

In the Baramati crash probe, DGCA has said it will examine allegations of under-logging engine hours and crew flying time – practices that, if proven, allow operators to delay maintenance schedules and push crews closer to fatigue thresholds while saving costs.

These allegations did not surface overnight. Insiders had flagged them earlier. Records show the aircraft was actively flying multiple charter sectors across the country in the weeks before the crash. DGCA itself has acknowledged that it has data from past audits of the operator.

The uncomfortable question is not whether DGCA can investigate now. It is why such red flags did not trigger decisive corrective action earlier. A regulator that accumulates data but delays enforcement does not merely miss violations, it normalises risk.

The Illusion of Control on the Tarmac

Days after the Baramati tragedy, DGCA launched an inquiry into a ground incident at Mumbai airport where an Air India A320 and an IndiGo A320 touched wingtips while taxiing. Inspectors were dispatched promptly. Statements were issued. Procedures were cited.

Almost simultaneously, DGCA released a rejoinder defending its assessment of a reported fuel cut-off switch issue on an Air India Boeing 787-8, attributing the switch movement to “external force applied in the wrong direction” rather than a technical defect.

Individually, these responses appear textbook. Collectively, they illustrate a regulator deeply invested in managing perceptions and incidents but far less convincing when it comes to addressing systemic stress building up across operations, crew management, and market structure.

When One Airline Sneezes, the System Collapses

The clearest indictment of regulatory failure surfaced not through a crash, but through ticket prices.

As IndiGo grounded flights due to crew shortages and rostering constraints, last-minute fares on ultra-short routes like Delhi–Bareilly surged to nearly ₹50,000. Should this be dismissed as algorithmic mischief? No – it was a case of structural exposure.

India’s domestic aviation market is overwhelmingly dependent on two carriers, with IndiGo alone controlling over 60 per cent of capacity. When the dominant airline falters, the network seizes.

Dynamic pricing merely exposed what regulation had allowed to fester: a duopoly with no shock absorbers.

DGCA approved aggressive schedules without enforcing auditable proof that airlines had sufficient crew buffers to operate them under the strictest safety norms. It permitted capacity concentration without imposing systemically important obligations. And when the consequences arrived, passengers paid the price.

A regulator that allows one airline to become “too big to fail” without building “too strict to bend” rules around it does not just misjudge markets; it risks safety.

FDTL: Safety Written in Pencil

The most damaging blow to DGCA’s credibility came with its handling of Flight Duty Time Limitation (FDTL) norms.

After years of debate, court intervention, and phased implementation, tighter fatigue rules finally came into force to protect pilots from exhaustion – especially during night operations. Within days of enforcement, large-scale cancellations by IndiGo triggered panic.

DGCA responded by partially diluting the very norms it had just enforced, granting IndiGo temporary relief on night-duty and rest requirements.

The backlash from pilots was immediate and fierce. The Airlines Pilots Association of India (ALPA India) accused the regulator of selective exemptions that undermined safety and set a dangerous precedent. Pilots argued—credibly—that airlines had known about the new rules for nearly two years and expanded schedules anyway.

A safety regulator that rewrites fatigue rules under operational pressure sends a devastating signal: compliance is negotiable if disruption is large enough. Fatigue rules, pilots remind us, are written in blood, not convenience.

Heads Roll But Not the Right Ones

In the aftermath of IndiGo’s operational crisis, DGCA removed four Flight Operations Inspectors (FOIs) on contract, pilots deputed from airlines to monitor compliance. The move was projected as accountability. Industry veterans were unconvinced.

Aviation expert Sanjay Lazar accused DGCA of scapegoating lower-rung officials while shielding senior decision-makers who approved schedules, granted relaxations, and ignored warning signs. Some of those removed, he argued, had either flagged issues earlier or were not directly responsible for IndiGo oversight.

No inquiry. No show-cause notices. No transparent findings. Accountability without due process is not reform; it is damage control.

The Cost of Regulatory Capture

Taken together, these episodes reveal a regulator trapped between growth ambition and enforcement duty and too often choosing expediency.

DGCA’s failures are not merely administrative. They are structural:

• Allowing excessive market concentration without systemic safeguards
• Approving capacity growth without enforcing crew adequacy
• Diluting safety rules under pressure
• Delaying accident reports that could mandate corrective action
• Managing crises by optics, not prevention

Aviation is not just another sector. It is critical infrastructure where regulatory hesitation can translate directly into loss of life.

The Last Bit, What Must Change – Now, Not After the Next Crisis

India does not need fewer rules. It needs rules that cannot be bent quietly.

Safety regulations like FDTL must be insulated from ad-hoc waivers, with any exemptions subjected to independent risk assessment and public disclosure. Airlines crossing dominance thresholds should face enhanced resilience obligations, much like systemically important banks.

DGCA must move from paper oversight to hard gatekeeping – no slots, no schedules, no expansion without verifiable proof of crew and maintenance capacity under worst-case scenarios.

Most importantly, the regulator must remember its primary constituency is not airlines, not ministers, not market perceptions – but passengers and crew whose lives depend on consistency, not compromise.

The tragedy is that none of this is unknowable. The warning signs were visible. The data existed. What was missing was the will to act before the system was tested.  Indian aviation does not suffer from a lack of ambition. It suffers from a regulator that blinks when it must stand firm. And in the skies, blinking is the one thing you cannot afford.