On the morning of April 2, 2024, Larry Culp rang the opening bell at the New York Stock Exchange, and the act carried a peculiar weight — he was not celebrating the birth of something new but the liberation of something very old. The ticker symbol that flashed across the screen was GE, the same two letters that had traded on that exchange since 1896, the same letters that had once denoted a $600 billion empire spanning lightbulbs, television networks, subprime mortgages, nuclear reactors, and locomotive engines. Now those two letters meant one thing: jet engines. The company that remained after the amputations — after GE HealthCare was spun off in January 2023, after GE Vernova was spun off that very morning — was not a remnant. It was, by virtually every measure that matters in industrial capitalism, the best asset General Electric had ever owned, finally allowed to operate without subsidizing the mistakes of its siblings. GE Aerospace emerged into independence with an installed base of approximately 44,000 commercial and 26,000 military engines, a services backlog stretching nearly seven years into the future, and a business model in which roughly 70% of revenue came not from selling engines but from maintaining them — a recurring annuity collected, flight by flight, for decades after each engine leaves the factory floor. The market cap on day one: roughly $160 billion. By the end of 2025, it would approach $250 billion.
The number that explains everything is not a revenue figure or a margin. It is this: nearly one million people are in the air at any given moment with GE Aerospace and its partners' technology underwing. That is not a marketing slogan. It is the foundational fact of the business — the reason switching costs are borderline absurd, the reason the installed base compounds like a financial annuity, the reason a tape dispenser in Terre Haute, Indiana, can become an emblem of corporate transformation.
By the Numbers
GE Aerospace at Scale
$45.9BFY2025 total revenue
$10.0BFY2025 GAAP net profit
$7.7BFY2025 free cash flow
~$190BTotal backlog at year-end 2025
44,000+Commercial engines installed base
26,000+Military engines installed base
57,000Employees worldwide
~70%Revenue from services & aftermarket
The Mountaintop Test
The story of GE Aerospace begins not in a boardroom but in thin air. In 1918, a GE gas turbine engineer named Sanford Moss hauled a turbosupercharger — a device that used exhaust gases to compress incoming air and restore engine power at altitude — to the summit of Pikes Peak in Colorado, 14,000 feet above sea level. The Liberty aircraft engine, rated at 350 horsepower at sea level, had been losing half its output in the thinner atmosphere where World War I combat was increasingly being fought. Moss's supercharger restored the engine to 352 horsepower at altitude. It was an elegant proof: master the physics of compressed air, and you master the sky.
That mountaintop demonstration secured GE's first aviation-related government contract and established a pattern that would repeat for over a century — the company winning strategic positions not through salesmanship but through engineering feats performed under extreme conditions. For two decades, GE produced turbosuperchargers that enabled B-17 and B-24 bombers to fly higher with heavier payloads during World War II. When the U.S. Army Air Force needed someone to build America's first jet engine, the institutional logic was inescapable: GE already understood turbines, already understood compressors, already understood the violent thermodynamics of gases under pressure. In 1941, the Army Air Corps selected GE's Lynn, Massachusetts plant to build a jet engine based on Sir Frank Whittle's British design. Six months later, on April 18, 1942, the I-A engine ran successfully. By October, two I-A engines powered the Bell XP-59A Airacomet in its historic first flight at Muroc Dry Lake, California, and the United States entered the Jet Age.
The I-A produced 1,250 pounds of thrust. The GE90-115B, its spiritual descendant, produces more than 115,000 pounds — a 90-fold increase across six decades of relentless materials science, aerodynamic refinement, and manufacturing precision. That trajectory is not just a story of engineering ambition. It is the moat.
The Architecture of an Oligopoly
To understand GE Aerospace's competitive position is to understand the peculiar industrial structure of jet engine manufacturing. This is not a market. It is a triopoly — three companies dominate global commercial aircraft propulsion: GE Aerospace (often through its 50/50 joint venture with Safran Aircraft Engines, CFM International), Rolls-Royce, and Pratt & Whitney (a division of RTX). No one else is coming. The barriers are not merely high; they are functionally insurmountable.
Making a jet engine at scale is one of humanity's toughest technical challenges.
The reasons are layered and reinforcing. A modern turbofan engine operates at temperatures exceeding the melting point of the metals from which it is made — the blades survive only through intricate cooling channels, thermal barrier coatings, and single-crystal metallurgy that took decades to develop. Manufacturing tolerances are measured at the atomic scale; a flaw invisible to the human eye can cascade into catastrophic failure at 40,000 feet. Certification cycles run five to seven years. The accumulated intellectual property — the proprietary alloys, the computational fluid dynamics models, the ceramic matrix composites — represents billions of dollars and decades of institutional learning that cannot be replicated by writing a check.
And then there is the regulatory architecture. The FAA and EASA certification processes for new engine types require exhaustive testing regimes — bird ingestion, ice crystal exposure, blade-off containment — that can cost billions before a single engine enters revenue service. A new entrant would need not only the engineering capability but the organizational muscle to sustain a decade-long, multi-billion-dollar development program with no revenue during that period. The last successful new entrant to the commercial jet engine market was... there hasn't been one. Not in any commercially meaningful sense, not in the modern era.
Within this triopoly, GE holds a dominant position. Through CFM International, the joint venture with Safran that has been producing engines since the 1970s, GE controls approximately 70% of the narrowbody engine market — the segment that powers the Boeing 737 and Airbus A320 families, which together account for the vast majority of commercial flights worldwide. In widebodies, GE holds roughly 50% market share, with sole-source positions on critical platforms including the Boeing 777X (GE9X) and dominant positions on the 787 (GEnx). The company estimates it powers roughly three out of every four commercial takeoffs, every day.
The Razorblade That Weighs Eight Tons
The central insight of GE Aerospace's business model is ancient, borrowed from Gillette and refined to industrial scale: sell the razor cheaply, then collect on the blades for decades. Except in this case, the "razor" is an eight-ton turbofan engine that took billions to develop, and the "blades" are shop visits, spare parts, performance upgrades, and long-term service agreements that generate the majority of the company's revenue and virtually all of its profit.
There's not that much profit on the OE sale for an engine maker because of this. So you typically sell the OE engine at a loss or breakeven at best, and make up for it in the aftermarket.
The economics work like this: a new LEAP engine might be sold to Boeing or Airbus at a steep discount — sometimes at a loss — to win the platform position. That loss is an investment. Once installed on an aircraft, the engine will fly for 25 to 30 years, requiring periodic maintenance, inspections, and overhauls governed by FAA-mandated intervals. Each "shop visit" — the industry term for a major overhaul — can cost millions of dollars. The parts are proprietary; only GE (or its authorized network) can supply them. The data needed to optimize maintenance is generated by GE's sensors and analytics platforms. The maintenance manuals are written by GE. The certification for repair procedures comes through GE's engineering authority.
This creates a business with extraordinary earnings visibility. In FY2025, GE Aerospace's commercial services revenue reached $30.1 billion, up 21% year-over-year, dwarfing equipment revenue of $12.2 billion. The services backlog extends roughly seven years. And because the installed base is growing — more engines are being delivered each year than are being retired — the services revenue stream compounds over time.
The margin differential is stark. Commercial services operate at margins well above 25%, while original equipment sales are closer to breakeven. This explains why GE Aerospace's blended operating margins have been expanding rapidly even as it ramps up engine production (which, in isolation, is margin-dilutive): the growing installed base generates an ever-larger stream of high-margin aftermarket revenue that more than offsets the deliberate losses on new engine sales.
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The Lifecycle Economics of a Jet Engine
How value accrues over a 25-30 year engine life
Year 0Engine sold at or below cost to win platform position. OE revenue recognized.
Years 1-5Engine under warranty. Limited aftermarket revenue. Operator builds trust in performance.
Years 5-10First major shop visits begin. Spare parts revenue accelerates. Long-term service agreements often signed.
Years 10-20Peak aftermarket profitability. Multiple shop visits per engine. Performance upgrades sold. Proprietary parts and data lock-in fully entrenched.
Years 20-30Aircraft may convert to freighter service, extending engine life. Legacy fleet maintenance remains highly profitable even as new engines enter service.
CFM: The Joint Venture That Ate the Sky
The most consequential deal in GE's aviation history was struck not in a corporate boardroom but in the cocktail lounge of the Ritz-Carlton Hotel in Boston, in 1970. Three French executives from Snecma (now Safran Aircraft Engines) approached GE's Ed Woll, company president Gerhard Neumann, and corporate counsel Jim Sacks with a proposition: team up to build a new turbofan engine in the 20,000-pound thrust class to compete in the single-aisle commercial jet market. "You could have bowled us over with a feather," Woll would later recall.
Neumann — a German émigré who had worked as an ace airplane mechanic with the Flying Tigers in China during World War II — and Snecma's new president René Ravaud — a World War II hero who had lost his right arm during the Allied bombing of Brest Harbor — met at the Paris Air Show in 1971 and "clicked from the very first." The agreement that created CFM International was signed in 1974: a 50/50 joint venture in which GE would develop the hot section (core, combustor, high-pressure turbine) and Safran the cold section (fan, low-pressure turbine, gearbox). Neither company would have full visibility into the other's proprietary technology. The arrangement was simultaneously a marriage of convenience and a structural masterstroke.
The CFM56, the venture's first product, would become the most commercially successful aircraft engine in history. It went on to power more than 14,650 commercial and military aircraft across more than 650 operators. Its successor, the LEAP engine — introduced in 2017 as the first widely deployed product to feature ceramic matrix composites — now powers the Airbus A320neo and Boeing 737 MAX, the two best-selling aircraft families in the world. Through mid-2025, more than 54,000 CFM engines had been ordered and more than 42,500 delivered. The CFM56 alone has accumulated over 1.3 billion engine flight hours.
The genius of the CFM structure extends beyond technology sharing. By partnering with a French company backed by the French government, GE gained preferential access to Airbus programs at a time when the European manufacturer was ascending. By splitting the work, both companies reduced their individual capital-at-risk on each program. And by maintaining the joint venture as a separate legal entity with its own management, they created an organizational structure that forced commercial discipline independent of either parent's broader corporate politics. When GE the conglomerate was floundering under the weight of GE Capital's toxic assets in 2008-2009, CFM International kept producing engines and collecting aftermarket revenue, largely insulated from the parent's financial distress.
The GE90: Death and Resurrection
Not every GE engine program was a triumph from the start. The GE90, launched in 1990 with great fanfare as the world's largest and most powerful commercial jet engine, had become an "embarrassing business failure" by 1998, stuck in last place in a three-engine competition against Rolls-Royce and Pratt & Whitney to power the Boeing 777. Airlines viewed it as too expensive and too risky. The planned upgrade to 102,000 pounds of thrust was cancelled, triggering a $275 million corporate write-off. Even British Airways, the launch customer, defected to Rolls-Royce. Jack Welch, GE's corporate chairman, wrote to a GE Aviation executive in blunt terms: "The GE90 is dead, put a stake in its heart."
But Jim McNerney, who became president of GE Aviation in 1997, and his engineering team in Evendale, Ohio, saw something Welch didn't. The GE90's fuel efficiency was quietly attracting rave reviews from operators of the extended-range 777-200ER. The bigger the 777 got, the better the GE90 performed relative to its competitors. GE designed a more capable compressor for the GE90-94B in 1998 — the foundation for what would become the GE90-115B, an engine capable of an unheard-of 115,000 pounds of thrust. Eight months of intense negotiations with Boeing followed, involving Welch, McNerney, and a host of GE leaders. The result: Boeing selected the GE90-115B as the sole engine for the longer-range 777-200LR, 777-300ER, and 777 Freighter — an exclusive deal that locked Rolls-Royce and Pratt & Whitney out of the highest-volume 777 variants entirely.
The GE90-115B went on to set a world record of 127,900 pounds of thrust during certification testing. It introduced aviation's first carbon fiber composite fan blades — double the strength at one-third the weight of traditional titanium blades — a technology that GE and its partners remain the only engine makers to have in service, three decades later. The engine that Welch declared dead became the technological foundation for both the GEnx (which powers the Boeing 787 Dreamliner and 747-8) and the GE9X (the sole engine for the Boeing 777X), which at 134,300 pounds of thrust during certification testing is now the most powerful commercial jet engine ever built.
The resurrection of the GE90 carries a lesson that rhymes across GE Aerospace's history: the company's deepest competitive advantages are often forged in moments of perceived failure, where the long-cycle nature of engine development rewards patience and technical conviction over quarterly thinking.
The Welch Paradox and the Capital Curse
For decades, GE's aviation division was the best business trapped inside the worst conglomerate. Under Jack Welch, who served as CEO from 1981 to 2001, General Electric became the most valuable company in the world — its market capitalization rising from $14 billion to $600 billion — but much of that value was driven by GE Capital, the financial services arm that functioned as a de facto unregulated bank. Welch's genius, and his curse, was making a financial institution look like an industrial company, smoothing earnings through accounting leverage and using the conglomerate's AAA credit rating to borrow cheaply and lend aggressively.
The aviation division funded its own R&D, generated its own cash flows, and built its own competitive advantages largely independent of the financial engineering happening at 30 Rockefeller Center. But it was tethered to the same balance sheet, the same stock price, the same corporate overhead allocation. When Jeff Immelt succeeded Welch in 2001 — just days before September 11 — he inherited a company whose financial structure was far more fragile than it appeared. Immelt's subsequent decisions to lever GE Capital further into commercial real estate and subprime lending through WMC Mortgage proved catastrophic when the 2008 financial crisis arrived, forcing a U.S. government bailout of GE Capital.
Starting our annual shareholders letter with a story of a tape dispenser is unconventional, but it perfectly represents the culture we are forging at GE Aerospace.
GE's stock, which had traded above $40 in late 2007, fell below $7 by early 2009 — an 80%+ decline. The aviation division's earnings were collateral damage. Between 2015 and 2018, under Immelt and his brief successor John Flannery, GE sold off GE Capital piece by piece, divested NBCUniversal to Comcast, sold its appliance division to Chinese manufacturer Haier, and slashed its storied dividend — running continuously for 119 years — down to one penny per share. In 2018, GE was removed from the Dow Jones Industrial Average, the last original constituent from the index's 1896 formation, replaced by Walgreens Boots Alliance. A century-long arc of American industrial prestige, broken.
For the deep history of this unraveling, William D. Cohan's
Power Failure: The Rise and Fall of an American Icon offers the definitive account — 800-plus pages of boardroom intrigue, executive hubris, and the structural rot that accumulated beneath the surface of one of the most admired companies in the world.
The Lean Convert
H. Lawrence "Larry" Culp Jr. was not a GE lifer. He was a Danaher man — 25 years at the diversified industrial company, including 13 as CEO from 2001 to 2014, during which he quintupled both Danaher's revenues and market capitalization. What distinguished Culp was not financial engineering but operational philosophy: the Danaher Business System, a proprietary lean management methodology derived from the Toyota Production System, applied with missionary zeal across every business Danaher acquired. Culp joined GE's board in April 2018 and was named CEO in October of that year, replacing the ousted John Flannery after just 14 months. He was the first outsider to run GE in the company's 126-year history.
The magnitude of what Culp inherited is hard to overstate. GE's total debt exceeded $115 billion. Its power division was hemorrhaging cash. Its insurance liabilities were ballooning. The corporate culture, shaped by decades of Welch-era "rank and yank" performance management and Immelt-era empire-building, was simultaneously sclerotic and anxious — bureaucratic at the top, demoralized at the bottom.
Culp's playbook was familiar to anyone who had watched Danaher: stabilize the balance sheet, implement lean operations across every factory floor, push decision-making authority downward, and relentlessly prioritize safety, quality, delivery, and cost — in that order. He branded GE Aerospace's version FLIGHT DECK, a proprietary lean operating model that would become the company's cultural DNA. The tape dispenser story from the 2025 annual report — in which Terre Haute plant leader Gerald Beuvelet initially demanded bureaucratic justification for a shop-floor improvement, then reversed himself and bought it on the spot — was not just a CEO anecdote. It was the embodiment of the philosophical shift Culp was driving: trust the people closest to the work.
The financial results tell the operational story. Under Culp, GE reduced debt by more than $100 billion. Adjusted earnings per share more than doubled. Market capitalization more than quadrupled. And the single most consequential strategic decision — to break up GE into three independent companies — was not an act of desperation but of liberation. Each business, Culp argued, would benefit from "greater focus and accountability to serve their customers; stronger team alignment with missions that attract and motivate dedicated employees, management teams, boards of directors, and investor bases; and enhanced capital allocation and strategic flexibility."
The Separation Trilogy
The breakup unfolded in three acts across three years, and the sequencing was deliberate.
GE's transformation from conglomerate to three focused companies
Nov 2021GE announces plan to separate into three independent companies focused on aviation, healthcare, and energy.
Jan 2023GE HealthCare spins off, begins trading on Nasdaq under ticker GEHC. GE retains ~19.9% of shares.
Apr 2, 2024GE Vernova spins off, begins trading under ticker GEV. GE Aerospace emerges as the surviving entity, trading under the legacy ticker GE on the NYSE.
GE HealthCare went first — the cleanest separation, with its own established customer base and revenue streams. GE Vernova — the combination of GE Renewable Energy, GE Power, and GE Digital — went second, inheriting the energy transition portfolio and the historical liabilities of the power business. GE Aerospace, the crown jewel, was what remained. And "what remained" was not a leftover. It was the reason the ticker symbol survived.
The structural logic was elegant. As a standalone company, GE Aerospace could allocate 100% of its free cash flow to aerospace priorities — R&D on next-generation engine programs like RISE (Revolutionary Innovation for Sustainable Engines), capacity expansion to meet surging LEAP demand, and shareholder returns — without cross-subsidizing a money-losing wind turbine division or carrying the pension obligations of a financial services arm that no longer existed. At its March 2024 investor day, GE Aerospace presented a financial outlook targeting approximately $10 billion of operating profit by 2028, with a capital allocation framework returning 70-75% of available funds to shareholders.
The market's verdict was swift and sustained. GE Aerospace's stock rose roughly 70% over the course of 2025, reaching multi-decade highs. The company that had been removed from the Dow Jones Industrial Average in 2018 was now being valued more like a luxury compounder than a standard industrial — a testament to what happens when a great business is finally unshackled from the obligations of a troubled parent.
The Supercycle
GE Aerospace's emergence as an independent company coincided with — and was partly enabled by — a structural shift in the aviation aftermarket. The industry calls it a "supercycle," and the dynamics are self-reinforcing.
Boeing and Airbus have been unable to ramp aircraft deliveries fast enough to meet airline demand, constrained by their own supply chain bottlenecks, quality issues, and production disruptions. Boeing's 737 MAX program, grounded for nearly two years following two fatal crashes, has still not returned to pre-crisis delivery rates. Airbus has struggled to secure enough engines from CFM International and Pratt & Whitney to meet its ambitious A320neo production targets. The result: airlines are flying older aircraft longer, deferring retirements, and investing heavily in maintaining their existing fleets. This translates directly into higher demand for engine overhauls, spare parts, and long-term service agreements — exactly the revenue streams where GE Aerospace earns its highest margins.
Simultaneously, Pratt & Whitney's GTF (Geared Turbofan) engine — the LEAP's primary competitor on the A320neo — has suffered significant quality defects in powder-metal components, requiring mandatory inspections that have grounded hundreds of aircraft. Every grounded GTF-powered A320neo is an aircraft not flying, which means its competitor — the LEAP-powered version — sees relatively stronger demand and utilization.
The numbers are dramatic. In FY2025, GE Aerospace's total orders reached approximately $27 billion in Q4 alone — a 74% jump year-over-year. The total backlog swelled to roughly $190 billion, up $20 billion from a year earlier. Commercial engine deliveries reached 2,386 units in 2025, a 25% year-over-year increase, with LEAP deliveries specifically hitting 1,802 units, up 28% from 1,407 in 2024. GE attributed this acceleration partly to priority suppliers delivering 40% more material input than in the prior year.
GE Aerospace delivered an exceptional quarter with revenue up 26%, EPS up 44%, and more than 130% free cash flow conversion.
The Cathedral of Complexity
What makes jet engine manufacturing so hard to replicate — and so rewarding to those who master it — is the sheer density of interlocking technical challenges. Consider a single high-pressure turbine blade in a LEAP engine. It operates in gas temperatures exceeding 2,700°F, well above the melting point of the nickel-based superalloy from which it is cast. It survives through a combination of single-crystal casting (the blade is grown as a single metallic crystal to eliminate grain boundaries that would create weak points), internal cooling channels that circulate compressed air through labyrinthine passages within the blade, thermal barrier coatings applied in micron-thin layers, and ceramic matrix composites in surrounding structures that are just as tough as metal, more heat resistant, but only one-third as heavy.
GE Aerospace and its partners are still the only engine makers with carbon fiber composite fan blades in service — a technology they have been developing since the 1980s and first introduced on the GE90 in 1995. The LEAP engine, introduced in 2017, was the first widely deployed commercial product to feature CMC components in the hot section. These are not incremental innovations. They are generational advantages built on decades of materials science investment — the kind of R&D that requires thousands of test cycles, proprietary manufacturing processes, and institutional knowledge that exists nowhere else.
The company's research center in Niskayuna, New York — established 125 years ago as the world's first industrial research laboratory — houses over 350,000 square feet of physical laboratory space, from combustion test cells to pilot-scale materials development facilities. More than 75% of its 1,000-plus employees hold advanced degrees. Annual R&D spending across GE Aerospace runs roughly $3 billion. The incubation cycle for a breakthrough technology — from laboratory concept to certified product — can span 20 years or more. As Joe Vinciquerra, the center's general manager, noted: "When I first showed up here more than 20 years ago, we were developing artificial intelligence for image recognition in the medical industry. Today we're applying it to aerospace manufacturing and quality control."
For those who want the engineering narrative told in full, Rick Kennedy's
GE Aviation: 100 Years of Reimagining Flight is the definitive account — a retired GE Aviation media relations manager's deeply researched chronicle of the people, the engines, and the decisions that built the franchise.
The RISE Bet
The future of GE Aerospace's commercial engine franchise depends on a program that doesn't have a product yet. RISE — Revolutionary Innovation for Sustainable Engines — is a CFM International technology demonstration program launched in 2021, aiming to design a next-generation powerplant that reduces fuel consumption and carbon emissions by at least 20% compared with today's engines. The leading architecture under consideration is an open fan design — essentially a propeller-like fan visible outside the engine nacelle, driven by an advanced core — that would represent the most radical shift in commercial engine architecture since the high-bypass turbofan replaced the turbojet in the 1960s.
The stakes are existential. The aviation industry is under intense pressure to decarbonize, with airlines committing to net-zero targets and regulators signaling tighter emissions standards. Sustainable aviation fuel can help, but the physics of kerosene combustion set a floor on emissions reduction without fundamental propulsion innovation. The airline or airframer that can offer 20%+ fuel savings will command pricing power for decades. And the engine maker that delivers that technology will define the next generation of commercial aviation.
GE Aerospace is spending roughly $3 billion annually on R&D, with RISE consuming a significant portion. The program has already moved into dust testing of next-generation high-pressure turbine blades and the appointment of a Chief Mechanic and Architect for open fan technology — a signal that durability, not just performance, is being designed into the architecture from the outset. The lessons from 15 years of enhancing GEnx durability, the company says, are being applied to LEAP to accelerate time-on-wing improvements, and those same lessons will feed forward into whatever RISE ultimately becomes.
But the program also carries risk. Open fan architectures face noise, integration, and certification challenges that have never been solved at commercial scale. The timeline is uncertain — entry into service is likely in the mid-2030s at the earliest. And the competitive landscape is not standing still: Rolls-Royce is investing aggressively in its own next-generation widebody engine technology, and Pratt & Whitney's parent RTX has deep pockets and institutional patience.
The Defense Floor
GE Aerospace's defense and propulsion technologies segment — roughly $9 billion of the company's portfolio — functions as a different kind of asset. The margins are lower than commercial aftermarket, the growth trajectory is steadier, and the customer (primarily the U.S. Department of Defense and allied militaries) operates on procurement cycles measured in decades. GE engines power the F-15EX, F-16, E-7 Wedgetail, T-7 training jet, UH-60 Black Hawk, AH-64 Apache, and CH-53K King Stallion helicopters. The defense business provides a revenue floor during commercial aviation downturns and a platform for developing advanced propulsion technologies — variable cycle engines, adaptive propulsion, hybrid electric systems — that may eventually migrate to commercial applications.
The most significant near-term opportunity is the Next Generation Adaptive Propulsion (NGAP) program, which will power the Air Force's Next Generation Air Dominance (NGAD) fighter jet. GE's XA100 prototype — an adaptive cycle engine capable of switching between high-thrust and fuel-efficient modes — is thought to be the basis for its NGAP design. The Air Force has funded prototypes from both GE and Pratt & Whitney. Culp has indicated that GE Aerospace would be willing to invest company money to advance the XA100 technology "if and when that's required."
In Q3 2025, GE Aerospace announced a partnership and investment in BETA Technologies to co-develop hybrid electric propulsion — a bet on the convergence of electrification and aviation that could open entirely new markets in urban air mobility and regional transport.
SQDC, Always in That Order
The acronym is deceptively simple: Safety,
Quality, Delivery,
Cost. Always in that order. It is the operational priority sequence embedded in FLIGHT DECK, GE Aerospace's lean operating model, and it functions as both a management framework and a cultural signal. The ordering matters — safety before quality, quality before delivery, delivery before cost — because it eliminates the ambiguity that leads to catastrophic trade-offs in aerospace manufacturing. An engineer who is told to optimize for cost might cut a corner on inspection. An engineer who is told that safety always comes first will not.
The practical manifestation of FLIGHT DECK is visible in the shop-floor improvements accumulating across GE Aerospace's manufacturing network. The Terre Haute turbine center frame line went from 20% on-time delivery in 2023 to 96% after implementing FLIGHT DECK principles — including the now-legendary tape dispenser. The broader LEAP production system delivered a 28% increase in output in 2025. The company's Plan for Every Part (PFEP) initiative — a lean tool that sets minimum and maximum inventory levels for critical components and makes actual inventory visible in real time across manufacturing sites — has reduced bottlenecks and improved cash efficiency across hundreds of production facilities.
In January 2026, GE Aerospace announced an organizational restructuring that underscored the FLIGHT DECK philosophy: the centralized Technology & Operations unit was folded directly into the Commercial Engines & Services division under Mohamed Ali, bringing engineering, supply chain, and manufacturing under unified leadership with direct accountability for the engine lifecycle from design through assembly and MRO. A new Chief Commercial Sales and Customer Officer position, reporting directly to Culp, was created to integrate the customer experience. The message: flatten the organization, push authority downward, eliminate the silos that slow down decision-making.
A Tape Dispenser in Terre Haute
There is an object on a factory floor in Terre Haute, Indiana, that has been nicknamed "The Gerald." It is an electronic tape dispenser. It replaced a manual process in which workers cut individual pieces of tape with a utility knife to label engine components and protect holes from foreign objects during assembly. The automated dispenser was expensive. Gerald Beuvelet, the plant leader, initially demanded extensive justification before approving the purchase — the reflexive response of a bureaucracy trained to question expenditures. Then he saw his team's slumped shoulders as they left the room, and realized he had it wrong. He bought the dispenser on the spot.
One tape dispenser did not transform GE Aerospace. But the cumulative effect of thousands of such decisions — each one a small act of trust in the people closest to the work — is what Culp means when he talks about the compounding power of continuous improvement. On-time delivery of the TCF line: 96%. LEAP output increase in 2025: 28%.
Free cash flow conversion: above 100%. The numbers are the residue of culture change, measured in tape dispensers and trust.
The last image in GE Aerospace's 2025 annual report is a photograph of "The Gerald," sitting on the shop floor in Terre Haute, surrounded by the engine components it helps produce. Nearly one million people are in the air right now. They don't know about the tape dispenser. They don't need to.
