With the change to Eastern Daylight Time my morning coffee routine has been horribly affected. When we were on standard time, I was able to show up at my local coffee shop just before 7 a.m., settle in at a table on the patio, and wait just a few minutes for the doors to be unlocked and the coffee to flow.
All that happened in the soft daylight of early morning.
Now, the patio is dark and the mood is somewhat subdued as my peer group of elderly wise men await the opening of our favorite gathering place. Yet we persevere. What else are we going to do with our early morning free time? Coffee is critical.
Some of us are retired, while others are still gainfully employed. One or two are part timers easing their way into retirement rather than going cold turkey. We are doctors and lawyers and elected officials gathered around the table. We’ve got a handful of insurance agents and a realtor or two among us. Both major political parties are represented, as are a couple outliers. Our membership is largely male, but not exclusively by any means.
It’s an interesting group, but it is not entirely unique. There are probably similar groups gathered each morning in your town as well.
Our goal is to simply start the day with a jolt of caffeine accompanied by a spirited conversation and a bit of humor. It usually works out well.
However, there are those moments where a glaring bit of ignorance shines through or a completely insane idea is floated by a member — perhaps with the intent of injecting some spirit into the early morning malaise that can set in amongst residents of a certain age.
Not long ago a lawyer who frequents the patio, a man who travels often and widely, made an observation that struck me hard. He announced that after boarding the aircraft on his last flight to who-knows-where, he looked out his window to see a pilot of the neighboring airplane walking around the airplane, inspecting it with great care.
“He must have been worried about something falling off,” my friend announced with a chuckle. “I guess he didn’t want to be a newspaper headline.”
My table mates laughed and agreed with his assessment. After years of accident-free commercial air travel in the U.S. a recent spate of unfortunate occurrences has convinced them that something is very wrong with aviation. So wrong in fact that even professional pilots now doubt the ability of their aircraft to successfully complete a flight.
Not being particularly shy about sharing my opinion on the topic of aviation I interjected a bit of inside knowledge to the assembled: “That’s called the walk-around or the pre-flight inspection. We do it before every flight.”
My table mates were stunned. “Seriously?” they asked.
“Yes, seriously.” I replied.
We, who the public assumes go boldly into the big blue sky each day, are not nearly as brave or foolhardy as my fellow coffee drinkers might think. Through no fault of their own they truly believe that we simply drive to the airport, board the airplane, fire up the engine, and go. Because that’s how their travel experience works. They walk to the car, jump in and, if it starts, they drive off.
They have no idea if there is a nail in the right front tire. The car’s oil level is a complete mystery. Not one moment of their day is spent considering the amount of water or contaminants that might be lurking in the fuel tank. And the condition of the drive belts under the hood is so far out of mind many of them aren’t even aware if they’re driving behind a series of belts or a single serpentine monster.
It has not occurred to them that these are the very reasons we see cars broken down on the side of the highway so frequently. It’s not a question of bad luck. It’s often no more than poor planning.
And so, when they see a pilot walking around and under the aircraft next to them, the assumption is there must be something wrong with the airplane or the pilot is a cowardly type who is worried the whole thing might fall apart after takeoff.
As a group we have a tendency to believe the lives and pursuits of others closely equate to our own. This, even though it is readily apparent that mountain climbers and librarians live very different lives and harbor wildly divergent levels of risk aversion. In between those two extremes are a wide assortment of people, most of whom live and work under the false assumption that they are normal — as if there is such a thing.
In the wider world this tendency to believe our experiences are universal is interesting. It can even stimulate conversation, as it did for my coffee crowd.
Yet in aviation, that comforting belief that our thoughts and actions are just as they should be, regardless of widely disseminated information to the contrary, can be truly dangerous.
Every CFI has been told repeatedly to present an example to our students and clients that establishes solid, safety-related behaviors. Use the checklist. Do a thorough pre-flight inspection. Brief passengers on how to fasten and unfasten their seatbelts and shoulder harnesses. Perform clearing turns before initiating maneuvers. And so on.
Yet CFIs are human beings and human beings have a nasty habit of looking for shortcuts. They get complacent. They overestimate their abilities. They have a tendency to skip steps perceived as being unimportant or unnecessarily repetitive.
So, with all this in mind, I asked my table mates “wouldn’t you rather fly with a pilot who took the time to inspect the airplane to make sure the gear locks were out? The fuel is at the level and of the type needed for the flight? That no damage is evident on the wings or tail from a bird strike nobody noticed on the last flight?”
They all agreed that was probably a good idea. The fact that they’d never seen a walk-around inspection before wasn’t an indication of a worried pilot. It is an indication of an activity they aren’t a part of being performed by a pro who didn’t skip the repetitive tasks or accept the condition of their aircraft on blind faith.
That’s exactly the kind of pilot I want to fly with. That’s the sort of CFI I’ve always tried to be too.
I would hope all of us, at any certification level, adopt that same level of professionalism and care.
Howdy Ben; nice job, as always.
Some things are universal. Keeping calm when someone demonstrates…staggering…ignorance, takes more grace than I can sometimes muster.
We have a similar group that meets on our side of “The Bridge”…except we gather in the PM instead of at bird twit. We usually solve whatever the world’s crisis ‘du jour’ is, and then rehash that day’s adventures…while they’re still fresh…assuming we were lucky (or cursed…) enough to have experienced any.
It’s amazing what you can cover while nursing a grande, half-sweet, white chocolate mocha…no whip.
Sorry Jamie…cut & paste error.
Tom
No apology necessary, Tom. Although, I’m a straight black coffee kind of guy. You might be too fancy for me with all those variables in your drink. However, as the father of two former baristas I have deep appreciation for the creative coffee drinkers of the world.
Carry on. We’re all good.
You guys need a ‘like’ button. Well said, Jamie. As usual.
To Alyssa Miller:
Completely agree in the context of political discussion and similar meanderings found in hypothetical ether, but sometimes “good faith” is eclipsed by “scared” when an aviator’s experience sounds like a lesson to be learned.
Thank you nonetheless for the reminder to listen, digest, apply, and learn.
Unfortunately this “poor training” epidemic in the aviation world seems to be spreading to other professions as well. I’m a recently retired physician with over 40 years of full-time clinical work and teaching. One disturbing trend I’ve observed over the past 15-20 years is a growing number of medical students and doctors in training (interns/residents) I use to teach that lack basic knowledge/skills I was taught early during my medical training. More disturbing though is their increasing lack of initiative/interest to cure those deficiencies once they are uncovered.
I became a pilot during the late 90’s and truly appreciate my old Air Force instructor who drilled into me the need to be thorough with preflight inspections, consistent use of checklists and diligent practice of stick/rudder skills. So far during my 30 plus years of private aircraft operation I’ve only experienced one indecent of decreased power leading to a precautionary landing due to an in-flight failure of one magneto unit without casualties.
I guess in some ways, old times were indeed better.
“In the wider world this tendency to believe our experiences are universal is interesting. It can even stimulate conversation, as it did for my coffee crowd.”
I love this phrase, because yes, when handled maturely it stimulates constructive conversation where each person is able to share their experiences while also learning about the experiences of others. When the participants operating in good faith they are open to the idea of learning about others experiences in a way that may challenge their own preconceptions.
Unfortunately, what we see too much of, in aviation and in broader society is that many do not converse maturely or in good faith. It’s far to easy to assume that our experiential views are universal and therefore authoritative and we attempt to force our perception of reality upon others. I’ve seen this happen so often in discussions among pilots, political discussions, and beyond.
Sir: Beautiful essay, well though-out and well-written. Remember: It isn’t paranoia if they really ARE out to get you !
Regards/J
Jim,
I am in your age group and completely agree. When I flew for the airlines I was anal about my preflight no matter how many times I had to do it in a day. I was always amazed at how often I would find a minor problem during preflight of the same airplane during any one leg of the trip.
I just retired (permanently) from a flight school that I worked for, over six years. I was often amazed at how poorly trained some of the instructors were because it was reflected in the pilots I trained to be instructors.
One day I was discussing the runway condition chart (braking action 1-6) and not one of the pilots in the class knew about this chart. When there is inconsistent training of instructors it is reflected in the training of learners.
I’m not smart enough to know how to correct inconsistent instructor training, but it does transfer to learners training. Pre flights are one of those things that reflect poor instructor training.
‘Started instructing in Champs at the U of Oklahoma in ’65 where I got my CFI. Still doing check outs in Pitts at 83. 10,000 of my 11,000+ hours is dual given and every student thinks I’m doing a 100 hr on the airplane before we fly. Even if we just came back from a hop. I tell them, “Nothing guarantees that, as we taxi in after a hop, that something didn’t break in the process.” And I’ve found plenty of broken stuff. Enough to make me never trust an airplane. Period! I want my students to have the same build-in paranoia. ‘Certainly can’t hurt.
Agree completely. Although I a now a “retired pilot”, but still fly often with chartered pilots, I hold preflight preparations as the gold standard.
I flew as PIC for only 5 years ( age 71-76), now 82, but remember the critical things found on preflight preparations and those pilots who were not as thorough. Maybe it was my senior citizen age and/or engineering education but it served me well then, and now as we take flights in small planes for enjoyment.