Bilateral symmetry is an unspoken assumption in aircraft design. Anything in nature that flies, from the smallest insect to the largest bird, possesses symmetry. But birds don't fly supersonic.
In the 1950’s Robert Thomas Jones, a brilliant NASA engineer, began developing a radical new wing arrangement called an oblique wing (also referred to as a skewed wing). The wing design was characterized by a wing that could pivot into a unique angled configuration in relation to the aircraft’s fuselage. The design offered several advantages over more conventional swept wings. An oblique wing’s ability to pivot into a straight wing made it ideal for low speed flight (improving efficiency and take-off/landing performance), but at transonic and supersonic speeds, the angled orientation minimized both wave and induced drag, leading to improved overall aerodynamic efficiency. With lower drag at higher speeds, oblique wing aircraft would require less thrust to maintain a given speed, resulting in reduced fuel consumption and operating costs. Compared to other variable geometry wings, oblique wings would also be lighter, less complex and have fewer drawbacks like a shifting center of lift.
Jones proved his theories through wind tunnel tests and with small scale remote control models. Promising results prompted NASA to undertake more intensive research during the 1970s. The first major step was the propeller-driven Oblique Wing Remotely Piloted Research Aircraft (OWRPRA) which first took flight in 1976. At the same time, aviation leaders Boeing and Lockheed were invited to study oblique wings to assess their benefits to commercial air travel. In 1979 the NASA Ames-Dryden-1 (AD-1), a subsonic, human piloted oblique wing aircraft began rigorous flight testing.
NASA’s research efforts validated many of Jones’s theories, and the oblique wing demonstrated promise in real world flight. There were plans to follow the subsonic AD-1 program with a supersonic testing program using a modified U.S Navy F-8 fighter, but the program was cancelled early on in development. Budget constraints and shifting priorities have largely stalled intensive oblique wing research programs since the early 1990s. There are still widespread reservations about the flying qualities of highly asymmetrical aircraft. Flight control at extreme wing pivots is unfavorable and requires automated systems to augment flight control. Using modern flight control technologies and advanced materials, many of these drawbacks could be overcome. Oblique wings are still considered a viable concept for large transports and many are convinced that they will eventually be adopted. The advantages are simply too great to ignore.
Key Research: “Thinking Obliquely: Robert T. Jones, the Oblique Wing, NASA’s AD-1 Demonstrator” by Bruce I. Larrimer (2019): https://www.nasa.gov/wp-content/uploa...
In nature, anything that flies has symmetry. And in the early days of human flight, mimicking
nature made sense. But as we pushed on to ever higher speeds, our stubborn insistence on symmetry
might have been a mistake. In the 1950s, a brilliant NASA engineer began to push for a
radical new approach, proving theoretically and with prototypes that aircraft didn't have to
be symmetrical. The implications of his work are profound. It suggests we should be flying
a lot faster and more efficiently than we are today. Since the dawn of flight, aircraft had
been getting faster. In 1920, the fastest plane could barely reach 300 kilometers an hour. By the
1940s, they were already flying three times as fast. But there seemed to be a limit beyond which
they simply couldn't go. Pilots called it the sound barrier. Above a certain speed, aircraft
stopped accelerating, control became increasingly difficult, and stress forces could even cause an
aircraft to break apart in midair. But in 1947, a daring test pilot flew an experimental plane
beyond the speed of sound, proving that the sound barrier wasn't a barrier at all. It's just that
supersonic flight revolved around a different set of aerodynamic principles. In the decades that
followed, engineers mastered the physics of flying supersonic, pushing speeds ever higher. But a new
challenge emerged, designing an aircraft that would perform well in both flight regimes. Any aircraft
optimized for supersonic flight would, by definition, fly poorly at subsonic speeds.
Because the ideal wing at lower speeds was long and straight. But for supersonic flight, it was
thin or sharply swept, a shape that struggled to generate lift at lower speeds. Engineers struggled
to find a solution, eventually coming up with a kind of wing that could transform in midair,
functioning more like a straight wing at subsonic speeds and sweeping back for supersonic flight.
But variable sweep wings created their own set of problems. Pivot mechanisms had to bear immense
lift, rotational and bending forces. Shifts in the center of lift had to be compensated for with
larger stabilizers or other systems. All of which added weight and complexity, largely undoing
performance gains. Variable sweep wings were only successfully applied to a small number of military
aircraft, none of which are still produced today. The sound barrier might not have been an actual
barrier, but it seemed that flying faster would always involve serious trade-offs.
By 1955, Robert Jones had made a name for himself as one of NASA's top aeronautical engineers.
His groundbreaking work on the Delta Wing, once met with skepticism, had led to the greatest
aerodynamic transformation since the very invention of the airplane. But his lifelong
passion lay in an entirely different kind of design. It was called an oblique wing, a radical
concept consisting of a single wing that rotated on a center pivot. Intuitively, it looks all wrong,
as if it would simply corkscrew its way through the sky. But through wind tunnel tests and with
radio-controlled prototypes, Jones proved that they were surprisingly stable and controllable.
Because when it comes to generating lift, the air doesn't really care whether a wing is swept
forwards or backwards, so it can fly. But why build an aircraft like this? Intuitively,
a highly swept arrow shape seems like the correct way to minimize drag. But that's simply not the
case. Jones demonstrated that at transonic and supersonic speeds, the same wing, when arranged
asymmetrically, had a much lower predicted wave drag. And so there was no rational reason to favor
bilateral symmetry when it was actually less efficient. But Jones' oblique wing had another
important advantage. It could also perform optimally at lower speeds, by transforming
itself back into the ideal straight wing. And compared to variable sweep wings, oblique wings
would be easier to build. With a single pivot mechanism handling just one force, they would be
lighter and less complex. And the center of lift would remain virtually unchanged regardless of
the wing's position. Secret German documents uncovered after World War II suggest that
oblique wings were even studied as far back as 1942. Although no prototypes were ever built.
On the verge of an aeronautical breakthrough, Jones and NASA engineers were about to change
aircraft design forever. By the mid-1970s, NASA moved beyond wind tunnel tests to develop a
large-scale, remotely operated model that could evaluate the oblique wing's real-world performance
and handling characteristics. Meanwhile, leading aircraft designers Boeing and Lockheed were also
asked to study oblique wings and evaluate their potential for future commercial aircraft.
Both concluded that they could lead to faster, more efficient air travel.
But it was Boeing's study that really caught NASA's attention. Because by 1975, the dream of mass
supersonic air travel had all but faded, as Concorde looked set to become a commercial failure.
And it had everything to do with the wing. Engineers had spent more time developing Concorde's
advanced delta wing than any other part of the aircraft. But it was still hopelessly inefficient
at low speeds, producing so little lift that Concorde needed fuel-thirsty afterburners to
take off. And when countries banned supersonic flights over their airspace due to concerns over
loud sonic booms, flying slower wasn't really an option. Concorde wasn't designed to cruise at
subsonic speeds where its operating economics were terrible. But Boeing concluded that an
oblique wing airliner would have none of these problems. Because it would be capable of flying
efficiently at a range of speeds, and cruise at up to Mach 1.2 without even generating a sonic
boom that could be heard on the ground. And that would allow for transcontinental flights over
populated areas 50% faster than existing airliners. Power requirements for takeoff,
landing, and holding around busy airports would also be a lot lower, dramatically cutting noise
and pollution around airports. NASA was impressed enough to take the next leap forward. In 1976,
development began on a scaled-down version of Boeing's design. Not a remotely operated model,
but the world's first human-piloted oblique wing aircraft. NASA's objectives were ambitious. But
the 81 was modest in design, built mostly from fiberglass-reinforced plastic and foam core.
Two tiny jet engines provided less than 500 pounds of thrust for motivation. The cockpit
had only the bare essentials. No fly-by-wire or computer assistance, it would be flown entirely
by the skilled hands of a test pilot. Built on a shoestring budget, many at NASA were cautious
about investing huge resources into a still-unproven concept. But the 81 would back up
NASA's research with real-world data. In a total of 79 test flights, the 81's wing was gradually
pivoted from zero all the way to 60 degrees. Even flown entirely by hand, control was fairly
straightforward, and at lower pivot angles, any reasonably skilled pilot could manage.
But above 45 degrees, maneuvering was more challenging, with a phenomenon called
cross-coupling becoming an issue. Pitching the 81 up or down caused it to roll left or right,
while rolling left or right caused it to pitch up or down. At a full 60 degrees,
pilots had to continually bank and yaw to the right to keep the aircraft flying straight and
level. None of these issues were all that surprising, and data gathered showed that
the 81 would have handled significantly better with an improved wing structure
and the help of a computerized flight control system. But the 81 maxed out at just 320 kilometers
an hour, nowhere near the transonic speeds where oblique wings could begin to show their potential.
For that, NASA would have to turn to a renowned Navy fighter jet.
By the 1980s, the U.S. Navy had also taken an interest in oblique wings,
because an oblique wing fighter could offer superior takeoff performance from a carrier
and increased loiter time. Both were prized capabilities for a next-generation fleet
defense fighter to replace the F-14. In 1984, the Navy and NASA signed a joint partnership
to develop the first supersonic oblique testbed, and the F-8 Crusader was an ideal place to start.
Its high wing could be modified to accommodate an oblique wing, and NASA had already experimented
with the F-8 to develop fly-by-wire technologies. A modest $36 million were allocated to the project.
Design work was to finish by 1986, construction by 1990, and the first test flight was planned
for May 1991. But after a successful design phase, the aircraft never got off the ground.
In 1986, the Navy, caught up in deep budget deficits and cost overruns on other experimental
programs, suddenly pulled funding. NASA couldn't carry the program alone, nor could it find a new
partner. In 1987, the project was officially canceled. After nearly half a century, intensive
research into oblique wing aircraft largely came to an end.
Jones never gave up on the oblique wing. He continued his research into the 1990s,
even at the age of 80, eventually shifting his attention to the development of a pure
oblique flying wing. A concept that promised to be the pinnacle of aerodynamic efficiency,
and fly at Mach 1.5, with operating economics approaching that of a modern subsonic transport.
Over the years, dozens of studies have demonstrated the potential of the oblique wing,
and in NASA's own words, it remains a viable concept for large transports.
But real-world advantages at transonic and supersonic speeds have yet to be tested in
flight, and the challenges of flying at extreme wing pivots remain. Modern flight control
technologies would go a long way to help realize the advantages. But the aviation industry is
conservative by nature. Aircraft today look strikingly similar to those designed over
half a century ago. The reality is, it's less risky for the industry to spend billions eking
out single-digit gains in efficiency, with a proven design, than it is to start from scratch
with a radical concept like the oblique wing. And that's why well-funded research programs
like NASA's 81 are invaluable to the advancement of aerospace. Jones passed away in 1999,
having made some of the most important discoveries in the history of aerodynamics.
And his groundbreaking research has left many convinced that, despite obstacles,
it's only a matter of time before oblique wings take to the skies.
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