There are a plethora of maxims that illustrate the importance of risk assessment in aviation. Most have come at the expense of our fellow aviators, bringing forth a few grey hairs – or worse. Here are some broadly recognized aviation proverbs:
Don’t Push Your Luck
When at home or on the road in a hotel room, I often recall that last proverb while watching the light show and listening to pounding thunderclaps from an overhead category five thunderstorm, particularly as I watch the sky turn greenish yellow. Aggressiveness and risk-taking are sometimes an integral and necessary part of managing a business, but in aviation, there is this truism: Don’t push your luck (see the above proverb about “those that will”). Having just experienced my fifth engine failure this past June (three in jets, two in pistons. This one due to the left engine number 5 cylinder swallowing an intake valve), from the perspective of this old, but not too often bold, pilot, things can and will conspire against us aviators. And pushing your luck will eventually bite you in the rear end. Folks generally try to do their best, but most would agree that pilots do their best more often than most by necessity, having been conditioned by life, our career and flying airplanes to do it right the first time…or else.
Our assessment of risk becomes just as important as weight and balance or our fuel reserve. Danger, peril, threat, hazard, jeopardy and menace – all synonyms of the word “risk.” Even though we subconsciously realize these words apply to human flight, they seem a bit extreme. After all, they could apply to other things we do that are more perilous. Besides, flying is fun. And didn’t someone say it was safer than driving? It’s only when we are unlucky or slip up that those malicious words apply, right?
Margin Call
There are typically safety margins added to the safety margins. First, the designer adds a safety margin, engineers add a margin; the manufacturer adds a margin; and then the attorneys add a factor. After that, the FAA and NTSB add their safety margins until finally, we add our own margin – frequently called “one for the wife and kids.” Before you know it, we’re wearing life jackets and carrying a full load of fuel just to taxi to the wash rack. An exaggeration, but our experience and that of others show us that sometimes even these additions prove to be too little.
Knowing there are margins (built upon margins) can also work to our disadvantage. Just because you got away with it last time or the last couple of times doesn’t mean the margins will protect you the next time. Chuck Yeager said, “Never believe anything anyone tells you about an airplane.” His point was that you, the pilot, will be the first one to the scene of the accident every single time. Learn the truth about your machine and why it does what it does. Verify everything there is about your airplane and about flying your airplane. Don’t rely on the word of anyone regarding its ability to be flown a certain way or in a certain environmental condition.
Jiminy Cricket
There can be precursors to an impending “risky” event. One is the hair-standing-up-on-the-back-of-your-neck sensation. This is the awareness you get when you think: “I knew something was wrong. I just couldn’t put my finger on it.” That sense can also be your subconscious telling you that you just added what may be the last straw to your load of troubles. The sinking feeling then comes when you admit to yourself that even though you got away with it before, this time it looks pretty bad. When you find yourself thinking that you shouldn’t have done something, recollect the “rather be on the ground than in the air” proverb. Another possibility is the “not having a precursor at all” scenario. It’s the type of incident where the proficient pilot never saw it coming – they had no clue. This type should scare the Jiminy Cricket out of you because it’s out there waiting for all of us. It can happen for lack of knowledge, experience or simple inattention. It could also be a piece of equipment breaking that is never supposed to break. This prospect is the one that should convince you to always keep your ducks in a row so that when it does happen, you aren’t burdened by unnecessary, previously accumulated risk. A third possibility is that you did, in fact, recognize an impending incident but allowed it to progress from benign to dangerous because corrective action was too late or incorrect.
Get-Er-Done-Itis
As Pilot in Command, we are accustomed to the never-give-up mentality. We have to be. After all, when you hit a gust of wind on short final you don’t release the controls, throw your hand into the air and exclaim, “I quit, I can’t do this anymore.” Or, if the landing gear will not extend, you don’t accept a gear-up landing without first accomplishing as much investigation, analysis and checklists as fuel-remaining will allow. We need to be mindful, however, that our get-er-done, get-there-itis persona can put us in a corner. The most difficult decision often comes not when assessing outside factors but when wrestling with ourselves.
After writing a column in which I prodded readers to attend Oshkosh AirVenture, I found myself unable to attend due to a maintenance issue. I tried to justify continuing my planned flight even though I knew I shouldn’t. For a bit, I had convinced myself that it may be safe. After all, the airplane had been flying just fine before the issue was uncovered. The coordination and planning for the trip had taken all year, and everyone was expecting me to be there. It’s often tempting to assume more risk than you should when the desire to get there is high. An emotional or financial need to continue can be blinding.
Beyond Our Ability
Icing, wind, low visibility and poor runway conditions are better tolerated once you have experienced their effects. Even so, be cautious to avoid the lure of a get-there-now or go-away choice. Once we have become proficient pilots, the mission is to evaluate the risk of beginning or continuing a flight based on our experience and the capability of the airplane. A student pilot would not fly at night around thunderstorms to a CAT III instrument landing, for example. But for a 15- or 20,000-hour airline pilot, those conditions are almost routine – just as a night flight to CAT I minimums would be common for a steely-eyed 5,000-hour Citation pilot. For each level of aircraft and pilot capability, there are limits. All adverse factors are cumulative and should be evaluated together. The most experienced pilots will eventually see conditions beyond their ability or that of their equipment. Our task is to recognize those conditions when they occur and act accordingly.
Training is like fighting a gorilla. You don’t stop fighting when you are tired; you stop when the gorilla is tired.
Engine failure training consists of two parts: Managing the failure and managing the rest of the flight. I strongly recommend that you not practice engine failures during takeoff in the airplane. Save it for the simulator because any realistic takeoff-failure scenario in the airplane is dangerous. However, using a zero-thrust power setting once above three or four thousand feet and with an instructor is valuable training. And this is critical: Make sure the surprise factor is there. Practice failures during a turn on the SID, at some point halfway to altitude during a distraction and one while at cruise. These maneuvers should not be considered complete until the engine is (simulated) secured, the airport of intended landing has been selected, and the route to that airport and the approach to be flown have been loaded. Practice flying the airplane at zero-thrust while talking to ATC (your instructor) and loading/programming your GPS/FMS/FMC. Then in the sim, practice the approach, landing and, if possible in your plane, the single-engine go-around.
A man who carries a cat by the tail learns something he can learn in no other way.
Mark Twain
Evaluate risk factors before each flight. Once airborne, any new risks must also be appraised. Like carrying a cat by the tail, sometimes we can only learn by doing. But stay away from the blurry edge of the envelope created by the safety margins everyone adds; this is the operational area where you accumulate risk. The original envelope is for a factory-new machine, flown in good weather by a test pilot. The true edge of the envelope may be inside the lines and not outside. If you end up near the lines, take action to ensure you limit future risk. When you find yourself beaten down by a malfunction or a mistake, take a breath and consider your options. And if your airplane, physical and mental abilities, or luck seem to be used up, when do you submit to defeat? Never. You are not only a pilot; you are a Captain. Keep your hands on the controls and work the problem. When told by Captain “Mal” Reynolds to “just get the ship on the ground,” serenity pilot “Wash” Washburne replied, “That part’ll happen pretty definitely.” Since our airplanes will also get on the ground “pretty definitely,” our job is to get them there in as few pieces as possible. And when in the process of getting the ship on the ground, you need to deviate from rules, regulations or procedures – just do it.
Bob Hoover summed it up nicely: “If you’re faced with a forced landing, fly the thing as far into the crash as possible.” And Ernest Gann said, “If an airplane is still in one piece, don’t cheat on it. Ride the bastard down.” Sooner or later (see “Statistically Speaking,” T &T January 2020), we will all experience a critical event in an airplane. Be prepared but don’t fret. Most of our events will not be as challenging as landing a crippled Firefly-class spaceship or carrying a cat by the tail.
Author’s Note: The Duke Flyers Association annual fly-in will be in Dayton, Ohio September 8 to 11. All DFA members are encouraged to attend this type-specific gathering of friends.
