By Robbin Laird
The V-22 Osprey continues to generate controversy in defense media, but a recent opinion piece in Stars and Stripes argues that the aircraft has become a victim of lazy journalism rather than a genuine safety crisis. Retired Marine Colonel Anthony Krockel, who commanded a V-22 squadron during combat operations and later served as commodore of Training Air Wing FIVE, has stepped forward to challenge what he sees as a persistent pattern of misrepresentation.
Krockel identifies a troubling trend in defense journalism: “a handful of journalists hold on to the V-22 Osprey as the reliable clickbait keyword for aviation risk, even when the data tells a very different story.” His critique targets a recent Associated Press investigation that he believes perpetuates outdated narratives about the aircraft’s safety record.
The core of his argument rests on a simple observation: that despite comprehensive safety data showing the Osprey performs well compared to other military aircraft, it remains uniquely targeted in media coverage. According to Krockel, reporters continue to rely on “outdated V-22 talking points” rather than examining “more recent and accurate V-22 safety conclusions provided by senior Marine Corps leaders, the Congressional Record Service (CRS), and years of facts.”
To understand why the V-22 attracts such scrutiny, it’s important to acknowledge its history. The aircraft’s revolutionary tiltrotor design, combining vertical takeoff and landing capability with the speed and range of a fixed-wing aircraft, made it one of the most ambitious aviation programs in Pentagon history. That ambition came with significant growing pains.
Krockel doesn’t deny this history: “the Osprey remains one of the most scrutinized aircraft in Pentagon history, in part because of its revolutionary design, and a series of tragic mishaps that occurred decades ago when the aircraft was in development.” These early accidents, occurring during the testing and development phase, created a lasting impression that continues to shape public perception today.
However, Krockel argues that judging the operational Osprey by its developmental struggles is fundamentally unfair or equivalent to evaluating a mature technology by its prototype failures.
The statistical evidence Krockel presents challenges the “dangerous aircraft” narrative directly. He cites Gen. Eric Smith, commandant of the U.S. Marine Corps, who emphasized that the V-22 is “the most tested aircraft we have,” with a safety profile that outperforms other aviation platforms.
More specifically, Krockel references a September report from the Congressional Research Service that provides concrete comparative data: “the Class A mishap rate for the Marine Corps’ MV-22 is 2.56 mishaps per 100,000 flight hours for the period FY2015 to FY2024. The Marine Corps average for all aircraft over that time frame is 2.67 mishaps per 100,000 flight hours.”
This statistic is crucial: it means the Osprey actually performs better than the Marine Corps fleet average. Yet Krockel notes that journalists covering aviation safety often ignore this context, instead treating the Osprey as an outlier when the data suggests precisely the opposite.
The timeline is also significant. The last Class A mishap involving an Osprey occurred two years ago, and Krockel reports that investigators identified both human and mechanical factors: “flawed aircrew decision-making and a failure of material in the proprotor gearbox” were the main contributors. Importantly, he notes that “the military has since incorporated additional training to Osprey crews on the conclusions of the report and has been addressing the material issue with a new alloy manufacturing process.”
This represents exactly how safety systems should function, identifying problems, understanding root causes, and implementing corrective measures.
Perhaps the most striking element of Krockel’s critique concerns internal contradictions in the very articles that criticize the Osprey. He observes that journalists “pushing this narrative even contradict themselves within their own article by sharing data about the aircraft that have actually contributed to ‘the spike in aircraft accidents in 2024,’ such as the H-60 Black Hawk, F/A-18 Super Hornet, and AH-64 Apache.”
His point is devastating in its simplicity: “The V-22 mishap rate ranks far behind all three (with zero mishaps since November 2023) but still gets singled out by authors as ‘risky’ and ‘most dangerous.'” If such journalists were genuinely concerned about aviation safety rather than generating clicks, they would focus on platforms with higher mishap rates.
Krockel emphasizes that this pattern has persisted “for more than a decade,” during which “the MV-22’s Class A mishap rate has been lower than many Marine Corps platforms and compares favorably to several aircraft across other service branches, yet critics remain active and uninformed.”
One aspect of the V-22 program that Krockel highlights is its unusual level of transparency. “The Osprey program is one of the most transparent in the Pentagon,” he writes. “Every review, from internal safety boards to independent analysis, has reinforced the same conclusion: The aircraft is safe when operated within established parameters, and defense services have implemented meaningful improvements to address readiness and reliability.”
This transparency, paradoxically, may contribute to the aircraft’s negative coverage. When every incident receives extensive documentation and public review, it creates more material for critics to cite, even when that same material demonstrates effective safety management and continuous improvement.
Krockel is careful to acknowledge that all military mishaps deserve serious attention: “While all military mishaps are serious and warrant investigation, there is no factual support for those who argue the V-22 has a unique aviation safety problem. The data simply does not support that.”
Beyond defending the Osprey specifically, Krockel argues that fixation on this single platform distracts from a much more serious and systemic problem facing military aviation. “Over the past four years, mishap rates have increased across multiple military services,” he notes, calling for “serious examination of aircrew training, flight discipline, and systematic under-resourcing in readiness and sustainment across the armed services.”
His analysis of the root causes is particularly insightful, tracing a chain of consequences that begins with funding decisions: “Congress should examine to what extent accident rates are the result of under-funding military operations and maintenance (O&M) budgets.”
The cascade effect he describes is sobering: inadequate funding leads to insufficient replacement parts, which causes maintainers to lose troubleshooting skills as they resort to “cannibalization” or moving parts between aircraft. This reduces aircraft availability, which decreases training flight hours, which produces less proficient crews who may make compromised decisions under pressure.
“Crews with less currency and proficiency can sometimes make compromises that increase safety risks,” Krockel explains, “and they can lack the kind of judgment and sound decision-making that only additional flight time can provide.”
Krockel doesn’t limit his criticism to journalists. He directly challenges Congress to examine its own role in the broader safety picture: “Congress likes to point the finger at the Pentagon, but Congress needs to look itself in the mirror and consider whether it has provided adequate resources over the last four years to address these rising accident rates.”
This argument reframes the entire debate.
Rather than treating aviation safety as primarily a technical or operational issue, Krockel identifies it as fundamentally a resource allocation problem with political dimensions. If mishap rates are rising across all platforms and services, the common denominator isn’t any particular aircraft design but rather the systemic conditions under which all military aviation operates.
Krockel’s fundamental complaint is simple but powerful: “In their eagerness to bash the Osprey, journalists are missing the real story, which is the broader systemic issues that prevent our service members from accomplishing their missions and returning home safely.”
Krockel’s broader point about evidence-based journalism deserves consideration. When safety data contradicts established narratives, responsible reporting requires examining whether those narratives remain valid. When an aircraft with a better-than-average safety record continues to be portrayed as uniquely dangerous, something has gone wrong in how we process and communicate information about military aviation.
The American people, as Krockel notes, “deserve better.”
So do the service members whose professional competence and daily safety depend on accurate public understanding of the systems they operate.
In an era of declining trust in institutions, getting the basic facts right about military aviation safety isn’t just good journalism.
It’s essential to maintaining public confidence in the armed forces and ensuring resources flow to where they’re actually needed.
Anthony Krockel, “There They Go Again: Lazy Attacks on the V-22 Ignore the Real Safety Story,” Stars and Stripes (November 25, 2025).
Featured photo: U.S. Marine Corps Lt. Col. Anthony G. Krockel, commanding officer, Marine Medium Tiltrotor Squadron 365, 24th Marine Expeditionary Unit, speaks with Sen. Thom Tillis aboard the amphibious assault ship USS Bataan (LHD-5) during Amphibious Ready Group Marine Expeditionary Unit Exercise off the coast of North Carolina, Dec. 15, 2016. Tillis is assigned to the Senate Armed Services Committee and is visiting to be informed on Marine and Navy amphibious capabilities and ARGMEUEX. (U.S. Marine Corps photo by Cpl. Hernan Vidana).