Aug. 19 2010 - 3:33 pm | 4,679 views | 0 recommendations | 5 comments
In Defense of Elitists –Why Not Everybody Can (Or Should) Be A Pilot!
Posted by Paula Williams
Image via Wikipedia
A five-year-old girl visited the cockpit of a 747 during a family trip many years ago. The captain gave her a grand tour of the overwhelming display of buttons and dials.
“You can be a pilot when you grow up, if you like.” The captain said, affably.
The little girl was escorted back to their seats by a friendly flight attendant, who gave her tin wings that said “Captain” on them, and a toy plane.
Nice little story, and it actually happened. But what’s wrong with this picture?
No, it’s not that there was a kid in the cockpit. That happened all the time before the locked bulkhead after 9/11/2001.
What was wrong is what the captain said.
The truth is that not everybody can, or should, become a pilot.
Anyone holding the “anyone can” assumption is doing a great disservice to the profession, and to himself if he insists on becoming one.
I was the kind of kid that led a charmed life, and believed I COULD do anything. All the evidence pointed that way. I had fantastic parents who went to a great deal of trouble to find me fantastic teachers who told me I could do anything. And everything was easy for me. I was the kid everybody hated because I got good grades without even trying. I was a reasonably good athlete in gymnastics and martial arts, and never had to work very hard at that either.
I also did well in my professional life. My bosses thought I used magic to get people to get along with each other, and I wrote good copy and built good websites. And help was never far away if I ever needed it.
In a word, I was spoiled rotten.
And then I decided to get my private pilot rating.
“Ground school” was harder than I thought it would be. It was more precise than anything I’d ever had to learn before, and with higher stakes. I learned to calculate wind drift, fuel endurance and time to destination using an E6-B. (which is essentially two printed plastic wheels stuck together with a grommet.) I was a little flummoxed by the FAA Knowledge Exam but passed that after a little MORE study than I was expecting to have to spend.
But what really drove home my limitations was a factor called “control touch.” My husband, John, had flown helicopters in the Air Force and Army. His son James flies celebrities and executives around in a Hawker 400. My son Mickey was flying a Tomahawk before he could (legally) drive a car.
They had very little sympathy for me when my figure 8s were slanted out of proportion and had one end bigger than the other. And when my 60 degree turns were so wobbly I was making my instructor airsick. And when my short field landings were, well, not short enough. I overflew the mark more often than I hit it.
Many, many, MANY sweaty, tense and expensive hours later, (with much time and effort on the part of my instructors and long-suffering husband) I was able to master these skills well enough to relax and enjoy flying. Then came the last barrier between myself and a private pilot’s license – The Practical Exam. The Practical (or Checkride) is a flight with several standards to be met, to be completed to the satisfaction of the FAA Designated Examiner.
This particular examiner was out to get me.
He wasn’t actually out to get me, but he was one of very few people I’ve ever encountered in my charmed life who actually did not care one way or another whether I passed or failed. In fact, he would PREFER to fail me if he were not completely convinced that I was not a hazard to myself and others in the air. This is as it should be, but I found his attitude rather irritating at the time.
So, everything proceeded to go wrong.
Somehow, the weight of this particular passenger (who was almost exactly the same size as my instructor) so unbalanced the airplane that I wobbled during the 60 degree turns. This was something I’d mastered months ago. My figure 8s looked like a kindergartner had drawn them. And I bounced during the dreaded short-field landing. Even worse, after we pulled off the runway onto the apron, shut down the engine to have a “little talk” (read, “grilling” about weather conditions, proper procedures, etc.) the engine flooded and I was so focused on the checklist that I didn’t think to get the OTHER checklist (the one appropriate to starting a flooded engine.)
And worse, I was getting tired, hungry, thirsty and slow.
Now, I have always taken pride in my endurance. I was always the last to quit in a kickboxing class, I could teach a high-energy class to a roomful of jaded executives, I could produce great creative material at all hours of the day or night, and I could facilitate cantankerous meetings for marathon stretches without breaking a sweat.
But now, I was ”getting behind the airplane.” My reactions were getting slow, and I was getting worse instead of better.
I think the examiner used this as an object lesson – there was plenty of gas in the airplane, but the pilot was starting to sputter. People are only at their sharpest and most responsive for short periods at a time. Our 8+ hours of exam (including the ground review) was certainly more than I had expected. But a pilot has to plan for the unexpected.
So, I didn’t pass that day. I’m told (and I hope it wasn’t by someone trying to make me feel better) that most don’t pass on their first try.
In the United States, the birthplace of aviation, there is less than 1 pilot for every 3,000 civilians. 1
I did eventually pass the practical, (I packed granola bars and a bottle of water for the next flight, and put in a lot more hours of study) and earned my Private Pilot rating, but in the words of John Wayne, “A man has got to know his limitations.”
I’m not a professional pilot, and may never be. I’m a careful and competent private pilot, and I am pursuing an instrument rating. I have a lot more respect for the folks in the “front office” of any airplane I get into. I think the salaries and perks that came with the professional pilot’s uniform in the seventies (when I visited the cockpit as a kid) were no more than they were due.
Not everyone who could become a pilot wants to make the sacrifices.
I recently saw a tweet that said “I’m a commercial pilot but can’t afford it anymore – seeking work.” It’s not the first time I’ve seen something like that. What pilots go through these days, with news accounts of pilots with back-to-back shifts, long commutes, less-than-ideal hotels in which to rest between flights, lack of respect from passengers and crew, and on and on, is unfortunate.
I think some of this comes from the assumption that “anybody can be a pilot.” Sure, technology has eased the flying workload somewhat, but compliance with FAA, TSA, EPA and other rules and regulations have increased the compliance workload tenfold2. Nowadays, a pilot has to practically be a lawyer, an accountant, and a customer service representative as well.
All the tools and automation count for nothing when the real world doesn’t match up to the kind of variables this crazy world can throw at you. A computer would probably not have decided to land on the Hudson, as Sullenberger and Smiley did in January 2009. (“Does not compute,” the little robot would say.)
All the variables of real world flying can’t be anticipated and programmed in. Real pilots, with real brains, are still really necessary. And I, for one, am VERY glad it’s still worth it to a small number of people.
Meanwhile, I’ll be the best private pilot I can be, but otherwise will get back to my spoiled existence.
1 AOPA counted 84,866 active pilots in 2007. There are probably fewer now, given layoffs, retirements and the current economic situation. Current U.S. population is 307,006,550 at this writing
2 The FAA made 505 changes to aviation regulations in 2009 alone. Aviation professionals are required to be in compliance with all of them, no matter how recent. Many professionals resort to subscription services or software that keep them updated.
In Defense of Elitists –Why Not Everybody Can (Or Should) Be A Pilot!
Posted by Paula Williams
Image via WikipediaA five-year-old girl visited the cockpit of a 747 during a family trip many years ago. The captain gave her a grand tour of the overwhelming display of buttons and dials.
“You can be a pilot when you grow up, if you like.” The captain said, affably.
The little girl was escorted back to their seats by a friendly flight attendant, who gave her tin wings that said “Captain” on them, and a toy plane.
Nice little story, and it actually happened. But what’s wrong with this picture?
No, it’s not that there was a kid in the cockpit. That happened all the time before the locked bulkhead after 9/11/2001.
What was wrong is what the captain said.
The truth is that not everybody can, or should, become a pilot.
Anyone holding the “anyone can” assumption is doing a great disservice to the profession, and to himself if he insists on becoming one.
I was the kind of kid that led a charmed life, and believed I COULD do anything. All the evidence pointed that way. I had fantastic parents who went to a great deal of trouble to find me fantastic teachers who told me I could do anything. And everything was easy for me. I was the kid everybody hated because I got good grades without even trying. I was a reasonably good athlete in gymnastics and martial arts, and never had to work very hard at that either.
I also did well in my professional life. My bosses thought I used magic to get people to get along with each other, and I wrote good copy and built good websites. And help was never far away if I ever needed it.
In a word, I was spoiled rotten.
And then I decided to get my private pilot rating.
“Ground school” was harder than I thought it would be. It was more precise than anything I’d ever had to learn before, and with higher stakes. I learned to calculate wind drift, fuel endurance and time to destination using an E6-B. (which is essentially two printed plastic wheels stuck together with a grommet.) I was a little flummoxed by the FAA Knowledge Exam but passed that after a little MORE study than I was expecting to have to spend.
But what really drove home my limitations was a factor called “control touch.” My husband, John, had flown helicopters in the Air Force and Army. His son James flies celebrities and executives around in a Hawker 400. My son Mickey was flying a Tomahawk before he could (legally) drive a car.
They had very little sympathy for me when my figure 8s were slanted out of proportion and had one end bigger than the other. And when my 60 degree turns were so wobbly I was making my instructor airsick. And when my short field landings were, well, not short enough. I overflew the mark more often than I hit it.
Many, many, MANY sweaty, tense and expensive hours later, (with much time and effort on the part of my instructors and long-suffering husband) I was able to master these skills well enough to relax and enjoy flying. Then came the last barrier between myself and a private pilot’s license – The Practical Exam. The Practical (or Checkride) is a flight with several standards to be met, to be completed to the satisfaction of the FAA Designated Examiner.
This particular examiner was out to get me.
He wasn’t actually out to get me, but he was one of very few people I’ve ever encountered in my charmed life who actually did not care one way or another whether I passed or failed. In fact, he would PREFER to fail me if he were not completely convinced that I was not a hazard to myself and others in the air. This is as it should be, but I found his attitude rather irritating at the time.
So, everything proceeded to go wrong.
Somehow, the weight of this particular passenger (who was almost exactly the same size as my instructor) so unbalanced the airplane that I wobbled during the 60 degree turns. This was something I’d mastered months ago. My figure 8s looked like a kindergartner had drawn them. And I bounced during the dreaded short-field landing. Even worse, after we pulled off the runway onto the apron, shut down the engine to have a “little talk” (read, “grilling” about weather conditions, proper procedures, etc.) the engine flooded and I was so focused on the checklist that I didn’t think to get the OTHER checklist (the one appropriate to starting a flooded engine.)
And worse, I was getting tired, hungry, thirsty and slow.
Now, I have always taken pride in my endurance. I was always the last to quit in a kickboxing class, I could teach a high-energy class to a roomful of jaded executives, I could produce great creative material at all hours of the day or night, and I could facilitate cantankerous meetings for marathon stretches without breaking a sweat.
But now, I was ”getting behind the airplane.” My reactions were getting slow, and I was getting worse instead of better.
I think the examiner used this as an object lesson – there was plenty of gas in the airplane, but the pilot was starting to sputter. People are only at their sharpest and most responsive for short periods at a time. Our 8+ hours of exam (including the ground review) was certainly more than I had expected. But a pilot has to plan for the unexpected.
So, I didn’t pass that day. I’m told (and I hope it wasn’t by someone trying to make me feel better) that most don’t pass on their first try.
In the United States, the birthplace of aviation, there is less than 1 pilot for every 3,000 civilians. 1
I did eventually pass the practical, (I packed granola bars and a bottle of water for the next flight, and put in a lot more hours of study) and earned my Private Pilot rating, but in the words of John Wayne, “A man has got to know his limitations.”
I’m not a professional pilot, and may never be. I’m a careful and competent private pilot, and I am pursuing an instrument rating. I have a lot more respect for the folks in the “front office” of any airplane I get into. I think the salaries and perks that came with the professional pilot’s uniform in the seventies (when I visited the cockpit as a kid) were no more than they were due.
Not everyone who could become a pilot wants to make the sacrifices.
I recently saw a tweet that said “I’m a commercial pilot but can’t afford it anymore – seeking work.” It’s not the first time I’ve seen something like that. What pilots go through these days, with news accounts of pilots with back-to-back shifts, long commutes, less-than-ideal hotels in which to rest between flights, lack of respect from passengers and crew, and on and on, is unfortunate.
I think some of this comes from the assumption that “anybody can be a pilot.” Sure, technology has eased the flying workload somewhat, but compliance with FAA, TSA, EPA and other rules and regulations have increased the compliance workload tenfold2. Nowadays, a pilot has to practically be a lawyer, an accountant, and a customer service representative as well.
All the tools and automation count for nothing when the real world doesn’t match up to the kind of variables this crazy world can throw at you. A computer would probably not have decided to land on the Hudson, as Sullenberger and Smiley did in January 2009. (“Does not compute,” the little robot would say.)
All the variables of real world flying can’t be anticipated and programmed in. Real pilots, with real brains, are still really necessary. And I, for one, am VERY glad it’s still worth it to a small number of people.
Meanwhile, I’ll be the best private pilot I can be, but otherwise will get back to my spoiled existence.
1 AOPA counted 84,866 active pilots in 2007. There are probably fewer now, given layoffs, retirements and the current economic situation. Current U.S. population is 307,006,550 at this writing
2 The FAA made 505 changes to aviation regulations in 2009 alone. Aviation professionals are required to be in compliance with all of them, no matter how recent. Many professionals resort to subscription services or software that keep them updated.
