The F-22 Raptor holds a reputation that borders on legendary in modern aviation. It isn’t just admired for its performance in the sky—it’s also a symbol of exclusivity. Unlike other advanced American fighters that have been shared with close allies, the Raptor has remained an American-only machine.
The reasoning behind this move boils down to a combination of expense, strategy, legislation, and an unyielding commitment to protect what many regard as one of the country’s greatest warfighting assets.
Finances played a significant role from the outset. The Raptor was costly to develop, manufacture, and maintain. By the addition of research, development, and manufacturing, each plane had a price of approximately $350 million. That doesn’t even begin to account for operating expenses, which come in at nearly sixty thousand dollars per hour in the air—nearly twice the cost of keeping an F-35 aloft.
Even if a partner were to offer to purchase them today, they would have an impossible dilemma: production ceased in 2011, and reviving the line would take billions. A great deal of tooling and facilities had already been diverted into the F-35 program, so it was much more sensible for partners to hold on to aircraft still being manufactured.
Aside from cost, the F-22 was always regarded as a tool of strategic leverage. It’s not yet another fighter; it’s a tool that is designed to ensure air superiority in the toughest fights. Its stealth design, speed, and capability to outperform enemies are what provide the U.S. with a special advantage. To share that advantage, even with close allies, would inevitably erode the uniqueness that makes it so effective.
There’s also the fact that once a system is made shared, it’s more susceptible to leaks, spying, or misuse. By having the jet under exclusive control of the U.S., the government can be sure that its operational capabilities are a card that it alone can use when it needs to act globally.
And then there’s the legal barrier that renders the entire conversation moot. Back in 1998, Congress enacted the Obey Amendment, a statute that flatly prohibited the export of the F-22. The move left no room for maneuvering to develop a diluted export version or exploiting loopholes.
Short of reversing that act, which would need supermajority support, the Raptor is legally contained inside U.S. borders regardless of how much enthusiasm existed from foreign buyers.
But perhaps most is technological secrecy. The F-22 is the product of decades of development and billions of dollars in investment in stealth shaping, radar-absorbing materials, and avionics that were ahead of their time.
Its radar cross-section is notoriously said to be no bigger than a small metal ball, making it virtually undetectable. Even close friends, such as countries that buy other high-end U.S. aircraft, have been turned down when they requested Raptors. The reasoning is straightforward: if it ever crashed or was captured, enemies might learn and try to replicate its secrets. That was too great a risk, and remains so.
When all of these things are combined, the tale of the Raptor’s uniqueness becomes understandable. It’s not simply a matter of pride but of preserving a superiority that cannot readily be substituted. With jet-mileage prices, its function as a strategic trump card, binding legal prohibition, and levels of secret technology, the plane was always bound to stay an American asset by itself. For the time being and probably for decades to come, the F-22 is the ultimate “look but don’t touch” fighter plane—admired everywhere, but never shared.