Pretoria, South Africa: There has been a noticeable shift in the aviation industry in recent years – one that has less to do with technology and more to do with language. Terms like “unmanned aerial vehicle” (UAV) and “unmanned aircraft systems” (UAS), once widely accepted, are increasingly being replaced by alternatives such as “remotely piloted aircraft” or “uncrewed aerial vehicle.” The motivation behind this shift is clear: a desire to adopt language that is more inclusive and less likely to reinforce gender bias.
At first glance, this appears to be a necessary and progressive evolution. After all, aviation remains one of the least transformed sectors, both in South Africa and globally. According to the South African Civil Aviation Authority (SACAA), women account for only about 13 per cent of licensed pilots in the country. That statistic alone tells a story of structural imbalance. Globally, the International Civil Aviation Organization (ICAO) has set an ambitious target of achieving gender parity in the aviation workforce by 2030 – an acknowledgment that the problem is both real and persistent.
There is no doubt that barriers to entry exist, and that gender stereotyping has played a significant role in shaping perceptions of the industry. Aviation has long been framed, explicitly or implicitly, as a male domain. Such stereotypes, much like racial ones, are corrosive. They discourage participation, narrow the talent pool, and ultimately weaken the sector.
But where does language fit into this?
There is a growing view that terminology like “unmanned” is inherently gendered, and therefore exclusionary. This perspective has gained traction in various policy and academic circles. A Canadian defence forum, for instance, concluded that the term “unmanned” is outdated and non-representative, advocating for its replacement with more neutral language.
Yet, not everyone agrees. The debate is far from settled, and in some respects, it risks becoming a distraction from the deeper structural issues that require attention.
To understand this, one must first interrogate the meaning of the word “manned.” In contemporary English usage, the term does not denote maleness. Standard dictionary definitions describe it simply as something operated or staffed by human beings. In that sense, “manned” is already gender-neutral, even if its linguistic form suggests otherwise.
There is also a more interesting historical dimension. The term can be traced back to the Latin word manus, meaning “hand.” In this context, to say something is “manned” is to say that it is under human control – guided by the hand, so to speak. It is not a reference to men as a gender category, but to human agency itself.
Of course, language evolves, and meanings shift over time. Critics might point out that in Roman law, manus also had a more patriarchal connotation, particularly in the context of marriage, where a woman could be placed under the authority, the “hand”, of her husband. That historical reality cannot be ignored. But the question remains whether such a context should be imported wholesale into modern technological terminology.
Should the aviation industry interpret “manned” through the lens of ancient patriarchal structures? Or should it understand the term in its broader, more neutral sense, as denoting human involvement?
There are also practical considerations. Some scholars and practitioners have raised concerns about the term “uncrewed aerial vehicle,” arguing that it may be technically misleading. These systems are, in many cases, crewed – just not physically onboard. They are operated remotely by trained professionals, often in highly complex environments. To describe them as “uncrewed” may obscure that reality rather than clarify it.
This is not to suggest that language does not matter. It does. Words shape perceptions, and perceptions influence behaviour. But not every linguistic adjustment necessarily leads to meaningful transformation. There is a risk that the industry may focus too heavily on symbolic changes while neglecting substantive ones.
If the goal is to achieve genuine inclusivity, then the focus must remain on access, training, mentorship, and institutional reform. It must address the pipeline problem – how we attract, support, and retain women and other underrepresented groups in aviation. It must confront the economic, educational, and cultural barriers that continue to limit participation.
Changing terminology, in isolation, will not achieve that.
In fact, there is a danger in overstating the impact of language reform. When debates around words become polarised, they can create unnecessary divisions within the industry – divisions that detract from the shared objective of building a more inclusive and equitable aviation sector.
Perhaps the more constructive approach is a balanced one. Where alternative terminology enhances clarity and inclusivity, it should be welcomed. But where it introduces confusion or misrepresents technical realities, it should be reconsidered. The aim should not be to police language for its own sake, but to ensure that it serves the broader goals of the industry.
Ultimately, the question is not whether we say “unmanned” or “uncrewed.” The question is whether we are doing enough to open the skies to everyone.
And on that question, the answer still requires serious work.
About the Author:
At the intersection of cockpit, courtroom, and classroom, Prof Angelo Dube brings a rare, lived perspective to aviation. A commercial pilot and Chief Executive Officer of Flying Jurist, he is also the driving force behind the Aviation Indaba – an influential platform shaping high-level industry dialogue across the continent.
In the global legal arena, he serves as President of the Society for International Aviation Law, while in academia he holds the position of Professor of International Law within the School of Law at UNISA. There, he leads the Aviation Law Working Group – a dynamic collective of pilots, regulators, researchers, and legal minds pushing the boundaries of aviation law and policy.
He writes here not from a single vantage point, but from the confluence of them all – and in his personal capacity.
