British military pilots hired by China: you should be in prison

Friday 20 February 2026

The quiet migration of expertise from West to East has rarely attracted as much alarm in London as the reports that former Royal Air Force pilots have been hired by agencies connected to the Chinese state to instruct Chinese military aviators in the operation of advanced fighter aircraft. The arrangement has been described by some as a morally questionable but technically lawful exercise of post-service employment. That interpretation is unsustainable. In substance, if not already in formal indictment, such conduct almost inevitably amounts to a criminal offence under the Official Secrets Act 1989.

To understand why, one must begin with the nature of the expertise in question. A fast jet pilot in the Royal Air Force does not merely learn to steer an aircraft. He is trained in tactics, weapons integration, electronic warfare, formation doctrine, rules of engagement, identification protocols, and the choreography of coalition warfare with allied forces — above all with the United States. The British fast jet community is deeply integrated into NATO planning, particularly through aircraft such as the F-35 Lightning II and the Eurofighter Typhoon. The techniques associated with those aircraft — sensor fusion, stealth employment, data-link management and beyond-visual-range engagement — are not mere flying skills. They are embodiments of classified doctrine.

The 1989 Act was enacted to replace the broader and, in some respects, vaguer Official Secrets Act 1911. Parliament’s intention was not to relax the protection of sensitive material, but to define more precisely the categories of protected information and the mental elements required for conviction. Sections 1 and 2 of the 1989 Act concern security and defence. It is an offence for a former Crown servant to disclose information relating to defence if that disclosure is damaging, or is made without lawful authority and falls within the protected class of information obtained by virtue of his or her position.

The crucial point is this: information does not cease to be “information” because it has been internalised as professional skill. A pilot’s knowledge of how British squadrons structure combat air patrols, how radar emissions are managed to reduce signature, how NATO pilots respond to jamming, or how a stealth aircraft’s advantages are tactically exploited, constitutes information relating to defence. If imparted to a potential strategic competitor, particularly one whose air force might one day confront British or allied aircraft, the damage requirement is readily satisfied.

The recipient state matters. The People’s Liberation Army Air Force is not a neutral training academy. It is an instrument of the Chinese Communist Party and a core component of China’s military posture in the Indo-Pacific. Britain has formally characterised China as a systemic competitor. British carrier strike groups operate in the region. British aircraft integrate with American and Australian forces. To assist Chinese pilots in understanding Western air combat doctrine is not a benign commercial service. It is to provide a strategic competitor with insight into how Britain and her allies fight.

Some have argued that the Act requires the disclosure of specific classified documents or clearly marked secrets. That is a misunderstanding. The 1989 Act covers information “relating to defence” obtained by virtue of Crown service. It does not require that the information be written down, stamped secret, or transmitted in documentary form. Oral disclosure suffices. Structured training — for example, advising Chinese pilots on how Western adversaries approach beyond-visual-range engagements, or how NATO formations manage electronic countermeasures — would plainly constitute disclosure.

Moreover the damage test is objective. It is enough that the disclosure is capable of being damaging. One need not prove that a particular Chinese squadron has already altered its doctrine or that a specific engagement has been compromised. The strategic benefit conferred by years of accumulated NATO experience is itself damaging. In an era in which air superiority may determine the fate of a naval task force or a contested island, the transfer of tacit doctrinal knowledge is no trivial matter.

There is also the question of authorisation. The Act permits disclosure if made with lawful authority. That authority must be explicit and properly granted. It cannot plausibly be maintained that a former RAF pilot has implied permission to teach a foreign rival how Western fighter pilots think and fight. If anything the existence of post-employment clearance regimes and export controls reinforces the opposite conclusion — that such disclosures are presumptively prohibited.

The broader constitutional principle is equally clear. The British state entrusts her service personnel with access to techniques and knowledge developed at immense public expense and in close alliance with partners. That trust does not evaporate upon retirement. The 1989 Act was crafted precisely to ensure that former Crown servants remain bound by duties of confidentiality in respect of defence information. To suggest that one may monetise that knowledge for the benefit of a strategic competitor without legal consequence is to hollow out the statute.

There is an additional geopolitical dimension — one that will not be lost on Kyiv. Ukraine’s air defence and air combat capabilities depend heavily upon Western training, doctrine and equipment. If adversaries can purchase that doctrine indirectly through retired personnel, the integrity of the entire Western military defence system is weakened. The issue is therefore not parochial. It goes to the credibility of Western security guarantees at a moment of acute international tension.

None of this is to deny the personal dilemmas faced by retired officers. Military pensions, while respectable, do not always match private sector incentives. The global market for high-end defence expertise is lucrative. Yet the law draws a line. Where the knowledge in question relates to defence and its disclosure is capable of damaging national security, criminal liability follows.

Whether prosecutions will in fact be brought is a matter for the Crown Prosecution Service. Evidential thresholds must be met; public interest tests must be satisfied. But as a matter of statutory construction and common sense, structured training of Chinese military pilots by former RAF fast jet instructors falls squarely within the mischief that the Official Secrets Act 1989 was enacted to prevent.

The Act is not a relic of Cold War paranoia. It is a living instrument designed to protect the operational edge of the British state. If that edge can be sold abroad without consequence, then the statute is a dead letter. If the Chinese, why not the Russians or the North Koreans? If however Parliament’s intention is to be given effect, the conduct described is not merely unwise. It is criminal and it should be punished. Carceral penalties are standard for breaches of the 1989 Act, and they should be applied here when these retired servicemen return to the United Kingdom.