Simplified Technical English
Standard for Technical Documentation
European Union Trade Mark No. 017966390
The official page of the ASD Simplified Technical English Maintenance Group (STEMG)
ASD-STE100 Simplified Technical English (STE for short) is a controlled natural language and an international standard to write technical documentation. It is fully owned by ASD, Aerospace, Security and Defence Industries Association of Europe, Brussels, Belgium.
STE was developed in the late 1970s by the European Association of Aerospace Industries (AECMA, now ASD), with support from the Aerospace Industries Association of America (AIA), upon request from the European airlines (formerly, AEA). The goal was to make aircraft maintenance documentation easier to understand for readers with only a basic command of English. The resulting AECMA Simplified English Guide was released in 1986. In 2005, it became an international specification, and in 2025 it became an international standard: ASD-STE100 Simplified Technical English.
Still at the core of technical documentation
Used in a wide range of sectors, including language services
Adopted by universities and researchers worldwide
Raju, the tea-stall owner, paused with a ladle in hand. He had been serving samosas and strong tea for twenty years, but today something in that refrain loosened the knot he kept in his chest. Customers talked in murmurs: a bus conductor arguing about coins, a schoolgirl reciting multiplication tables, an old man who always brought mangoes and never took a cent. The song threaded through them all, making each ordinary sound a companion to the music.
And somewhere, a version played on a different radio, older and softer, as new ears met the tune. The town continued—people stitched, drove, served tea—but the song remained, a small promise that music could take the ordinary and make it feel like something kept carefully, like a secret turned into a celebration. Raju, the tea-stall owner, paused with a ladle in hand
At noon, a young boy named Arun slipped into the tea-stall to escape the sun. He was learning guitar on a patched instrument and had a small, stubborn hope that one day he could make any crowd feel the way this song made the town feel. He asked Raju if he could play a few chords. Raju smiled and moved aside. Arun’s fingers found the familiar progression, and the shop filled with accidental harmonies—tea-ladles clinking in time, a radio crackle keeping the rhythm, voices joining like shy backup singers. The song threaded through them all, making each
When the last cup was washed and the tambourine folded back into the biscuit tin, the melody lingered. It had been more than music: it had been a string tying disparate lives together for a few golden hours. People left with the song in their pockets, humming it while locking doors and walking under the clear, star-heavy sky. At noon, a young boy named Arun slipped