F-35 upgrade: Lockheed in 'very active' talks with Pentagon on Ferrari-like jet with sixth-gen tech

Pentagon weighs Ferrari-like revamp of the F-35 as Lockheed pivots after NGAD loss

Lockheed Martin is pitching a dramatic refresh of the F-35 that would fold in sixth-generation technologies—sensor fusion, advanced stealth materials, smarter engines, and open-architecture software—at a fraction of the price of a brand-new platform. CEO Jim Taiclet told investors the company is in “very active” talks with the Department of Defense, and the idea is moving up the chain fast enough that he expects it to land at the White House for consideration. For the world’s most widely fielded stealth fighter, this could be the biggest leap since the program started two decades ago.

Taiclet calls it a “Ferrari” treatment: keep the F-35’s proven airframe and logistics backbone, then bolt on the best pieces Lockheed designed for its sixth-gen concepts. The pitch is blunt on cost. A current F-35A is about $85 million. Boeing’s F-47—slated to be the Air Force’s tip-of-the-spear sixth-gen jet—could run around $300 million once production settles. Lockheed says its hot-rodded F-35 would sit near $150 million and deliver “80 percent of sixth-gen capability.” That math is aimed squarely at budgeteers who need capacity as much as silver-bullet tech.

The timing isn’t subtle. Lockheed lost the Air Force’s Next Generation Air Dominance (NGAD) competition in March 2025. Rather than contesting the decision, the company is repackaging what it learned from its bid and pushing it into aircraft the U.S. and allies already fly. The message to the Pentagon: you don’t have to wait a decade for a new fleet to scale. You can modernize what you have and get there faster.

Scale is the quiet superpower here. More than a thousand F-35s are in service, and the global program is expected to top 3,500 airframes. If even a slice of those jets gets upgraded, the U.S. and its allies could field sixth-gen-like capability in bulk—without the export headaches that doomed the F-22 and could shape policy around the F-47. That’s especially attractive to partner nations worried about timelines, unit costs, and access to the newest platforms.

There’s politics baked in too. Lockheed’s plan keeps its supplier base humming, protects thousands of jobs, and channels private R&D back into programs the government already funds. For a Congress that watches the defense industrial base as a strategic asset, that continuity is not a small thing.

What the “Ferrari” F-35 could include—and what it means for budgets, allies, and the air war

So what changes turn a fifth-gen jet into something that plays in the sixth-gen league? Lockheed isn’t rolling out a feature list yet, but the building blocks are familiar from public sixth-gen concepts and recent F-35 modernization plans:

• Stealth refinements: New radar-absorbing materials and coatings, tighter edge alignment, and low-observable treatments around antennas and seams. The goal is better survivability across more radar bands and lower maintenance hours per flight.
• Power and thermal headroom: The F-35’s biggest limiter is heat and electricity for sensors and jammers. Expect engine and thermal upgrades to feed high-demand electronics. That could mean an enhanced core for the F135 and improved power generation and cooling rather than a full new engine.
• Sensors and fusion: Larger processing pipelines, more memory, and upgraded apertures can expand detection range and tracking quality while fusing data from multiple domains. Think of faster, cleaner picture-building that spans air, land, sea, space, and cyber inputs.
• Open-systems architecture: Sixth-gen designs lean on plug-and-play software. The upgrade would push the F-35 toward truly modular mission systems so developers can drop in new apps, EW techniques, and cyber defenses without a multi-year integration slog.
• Networking and data links: The jet already has a low-probability data link for stealth formations. A sixth-gen push would add more resilient, directional, and higher-bandwidth waveforms to share targets with other fighters, ships, and satellites without lighting up to adversary sensors.
• Autonomy and teaming: Expect onboard AI to sort targets, flag threats, and help manage swarms of uncrewed aircraft. The Air Force’s Collaborative Combat Aircraft (CCA) vision—loyal wingman drones flying alongside manned jets—fits this like a glove.
• Weapons: Internal-carriage options that reach further, react faster, and adapt in flight. Integration of newer air-to-air missiles and long-range stand-in munitions would extend the F-35’s punch without blowing its stealth profile.
• Electronic warfare: More sensitive receivers, faster reprogramming, and power to match—a must for blinding radars, slipping through contested airspace, and protecting formation mates.

Lockheed’s argument is that these aren’t exotic moonshots. They’re technologies its engineers already matured chasing NGAD—plus pieces that are progressing inside the F-35 program and could be accelerated. The difference is packaging and pace: deliver them as a coherent step-change instead of a string of small Block upgrades.

That still leaves the hardest question: schedule. The F-35’s own modernization drive—new processors, software drops, and expanded weapon sets—has hit turbulence. Delays integrating updated computing hardware created a delivery backlog, and software spirals have been slower than hoped. Piling a bigger leap on top of that requires ruthless systems engineering, tight test windows, and early buy-in from the services so requirements don’t sprawl.

The business case is straightforward on paper. At roughly $150 million per jet, an upgraded F-35 costs half of what the Air Force expects to spend on each F-47. For commanders who need mass—not just a boutique force of elite aircraft—that price gulf matters. You can buy and operate more tails, train more pilots, and cover more sky.

Where it gets complex is the retrofit. Hundreds of jets are already flying. Pulling them into depots for deep upgrades means careful choreography with unit deployments, maintenance backlogs, and international customer schedules. Partners will also want clarity on who pays for what, what software baselines they’ll receive, and how export approvals will cap sensitive features like electronic attack.

Operationally, the two-tier structure almost sells itself. The F-47 leads penetration strikes and air-dominance missions at the bleeding edge. The upgraded F-35s bring the numbers that keep pressure on an adversary across days and weeks, not just opening-night sorties. They also give allies a real seat at the table; a coalition of stealth jets, all talking, sensing, and shooting in sync, is a different kind of deterrent than a small cadre of U.S.-only platforms.

Pair this with uncrewed teammates and the picture sharpens. A “Ferrari” F-35 acting as quarterback can send drones forward as decoys, jammers, or missile trucks while it stays silent and survivable. That puts less strain on the manned fighter’s weapons bay and extends the reach of every sortie.

There’s also a sustainment angle. The F-35 has taken hits over cost-per-flight-hour and maintenance. If new materials cut touch labor and improved software trims troubleshooting time, the upgrade could lower ownership costs even as capability spikes. For finance officers and parliaments that have endured years of headlines about spare parts and depot queues, that’s a selling point.

Still, the risk board is not blank. Concurrency—the old habit of building while testing—burned the F-35 early on. Doing a giant capability jump while jets are in steady operational use takes discipline. Cybersecurity is another pressure point; open architectures invite more contributors and faster updates but also expand the attack surface. And thermal management is unforgiving: load too many hungry sensors and transmitters on the jet without headroom and you end up throttle-limited by heat, not thrust.

Politics will shape the outcome as much as engineering. The Pentagon can study the concept and draft options, but big money moves only come together through the White House budget process and Capitol Hill. The House and Senate armed services committees will want to see real cost curves, testing timelines, and risk retirement plans, especially after years of reporting on software slips. Expect hearings that pit capacity against the allure of top-end capability.

Allies will be watching the export specifics. The United States never exported the F-22. If the F-47 follows a similar path, a souped-up F-35 becomes the only stealth fighter many partners can realistically field in the 2030s. Countries in Europe, the Pacific, and the Middle East that already train and operate within the F-35 ecosystem would be able to step up without starting from zero.

For Lockheed, the proposal doubles as an industrial strategy. Keeping the F-35 line fed with higher-value upgrades secures work for avionics makers, materials suppliers, engine shops, and software teams for years. It also lets the company recycle research from its NGAD bid instead of writing it off, which shareholders heard plainly in Taiclet’s comments about “techniques and capabilities” moving from concepts to production jets.

Boeing, meanwhile, will be focused on getting the F-47 from paper to squadrons. That’s no small lift. This split—the Air Force anchoring its tip-of-the-spear around a new platform while allies and other services scale a refreshed F-35—could define U.S. airpower for a generation, provided budgets keep up and timelines hold. The Navy and Marine Corps, with their own carrier and STOVL variants, will weigh in hard on what upgrades make sense at sea and in austere bases.

Timelines matter. If the Pentagon wants capability in the near term, it could greenlight an initial package focused on processing power, software, and networking—changes that can ride along with scheduled maintenance—while larger structural or thermal upgrades roll in later. Phased spirals reduce disruption and get pilots training with new tools sooner.

Even the “Ferrari” branding carries intent. It’s a promise of speed and refinement without a new chassis, a signal that the company can move faster if it’s allowed to break traditional development cycles. Whether that stays a catchy metaphor or becomes program of record will depend on how the next budget season plays out—and how convincingly Lockheed can show that a faster, cheaper path to sixth-gen effects is real.

For now, the conversation is at the top of the building. Taiclet says the company is getting heard “at an extremely high level” and expects the proposal to be considered by the White House. If the administration and Congress bite, the Air Force could end up with a two-speed fleet: F-47s kicking down the door, upgraded F-35s holding it open, and a swarm of autonomous systems filling the gaps.

The stakes go beyond prestige. China and Russia are fielding better missiles, longer-range radars, and denser air defenses. A big lift in F-35 capability—delivered quickly, across many nations—changes that chessboard. It complicates enemy planning, spreads risk across more shooters and sensors, and gives Washington and its allies a way to scale advanced airpower without waiting a decade for the next clean-sheet jet.

The last question is the simplest: will the government pay for it? At roughly $65 million more than today’s jets, each upgraded aircraft isn’t cheap. But against a $300 million next-gen platform, the value case is plain. If the Pentagon signs on, the F-35 upgrade becomes not just a tech story but a budget strategy: buy a few Ferraris to lead—and tune up the rest of the garage to keep pace.