For 20 years the UK government has talked itself in circles about aviation’s climate problem while emissions kept rising. When a Sustainable Aviation Fuel Mandate was set last year, it looked like a breakthrough. From 2025, fuel suppliers must start blending in cleaner alternatives, with the share growing over time. Just as importantly, ministers drew a line: no burning food crops, only fuels from real wastes, residues or new electrofuels (e-SAFs).
This is one of the climate policies the UK can genuinely be proud of, so no wonder industry is already circling to tear it down. It aligned with public common sense: flying should be greener, but at the same time never compete with food on our plates. While protecting crops like wheat and oats from fuel tanks, it gave investors confidence that the UK was backing genuinely sustainable and advanced fuels. Brussels reached the same conclusion, banning food-based fuels – and promoting eSAFs – for exactly the same reasons.
And the kicker? It was working. In just six months, cleaner fuels hit 1.3 per cent of supply, in some months spiking to nearly 3 per cent. The 2 per cent goal for 2025 will be met without any weakening, just as car makers once claimed electric quotas were impossible, till they smashed through them under the ZEV mandate. The truth is clear: tough rules deliver.
But before the ink was even dry, parts of the aviation industry – led by the likes of British Airways and Boeing – joined forces with the oil lobby, including Shell pushing to weaken the rules by demanding inclusion of food-based biofuels. After 20 years of empty promises, the risk is clear: if the UK government bends now, real progress will be dumped in favour of greenwash in the skies. What stalls change isn’t technology; it is politicians caving in to special interests who are desperate to keep the era of fake fixes alive.
Loud voices in the aviation and fuels sector insist today’s safeguards are too rigid. They warn that sticking to genuine waste oils and residues risks bottlenecks and higher prices. They argue that letting British farmers grow crops for fuel on “marginal” land or as cover rotations would add flexibility, smooth volatility and “diversify feedstocks” until e‑fuels arrive in scale.
We’ve seen this story before. The last time governments fell for the biofuels pitch, food crops were poured into car fuel tanks and global prices skyrocketed. The World Bank and OECD highlighted the contribution of crop-based biofuels. The UN warned of food riots as millions were priced out of bread and cooking oil. Families paid the price once and the danger hasn’t gone away.
Saying, “but these would be British crops” is no defence. Markets don’t reward patriotic intentions. Even with a 19 per cent tariff, almost half the bioethanol burned on UK roads last year was imported from the US undercutting local producers. Now the UK‑US trade deal swings the door wide open to 1.4 billion litres of tariff‑free American ethanol, equal to all the road bioethanol the UK uses. The fuels industry says aviation could be the new home for UK-grown ethanol. But what’s stopping US agribusiness giants from taking over there too? Once crops are made eligible, you don’t control who floods the market. And that also risks imports from countries where biofuels drive deforestation.
This isn’t just an environmental risk – it’s an industrial one. The UK has a real chance to lead in advanced aviation fuels, especially electrofuels made from renewable power and captured CO2. Projects including those already planned in Teesside and Aberdeenshire, backed by tens of millions in government funding, could anchor hundreds of skilled jobs and boost energy security in an age of volatile geopolitics.
But all of that rests on one thing: policy certainty. Increasingly, net zero is being twisted into a weapon used by parts of industry not to drive ambition but to roll it back. The moment ministers water down the rules to make room for crop fuels, the signal to innovators is clear: don’t waste your time competing with the cheapest, dirtiest option.
This isn’t just about perception, it cuts straight to government credibility on new industries. Britain claims it wants to lead in clean technologies, pulling in global investment, creating green growth and future‑proof jobs.
If the UK blinks first and defaults to the cheapest option of burning food, it will send a simple message to investors: we’re not serious. A country that can’t defend its own cornerstone industrial policy – the SAF mandate – won’t lead the energy revolution; it will watch others seize the prize.
And while ministers preach leadership, they’re quietly signing off the biggest wave of airport expansion in decades: Gatwick’s second runway, Luton’s capacity boost, and Heathrow’s long‑debated third runway. By the 2040s, aviation is set to be the UK’s single biggest source of climate pollution. Expanding airports with one hand while weakening aviation policy with the other isn’t leadership; it’s sabotage dressed up as growth.
If ministers want Britain to lead aviation’s future, the choice couldn’t be clearer. With a Sustainable Aviation Fuel Bill out for consultation, now is the moment to hold the line. Why shy away from a new industrial revolution when this country has the talent and the technology to lead it? Ministers must resist pressure to dilute ambition by including outdated biofuels and instead back cutting‑ edge e‑SAF. If we want national pride, let’s earn it through being bold, energetic, and leading the way to a stronger, more prosperous future.
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