Two recent events have the potential to dramatically alter the general aviation landscape. One, the signing into law of the General Aviation Revitalization Act, is certainly a very positive development in almost every respect. On the other hand, FAA's revocation of Bob Hoover's medical certificate — an action ultimately backed by the National Transportation Safety Board — has both very good and very bad implications, depending upon the flying you do. Airline pilots who want to keep flying past age 60 may find some encouragement in Hoover's sad tale. At the same time the episode has ominous implications for everyone else holding an aviation medical certificate.
First, the fallout from the Hoover debacle. Bob Hoover was forced down by a daunting series of psychological tests designed to measure his cognitive ability. Using a lot of serious scientific terminology to make their case, the government's expert medical witnesses successfully argued that Hoover no longer is mentally up to the task of flying low-level airshow routines. It's not that he can't perform the maneuvers — he put on a demonstration for an NTSB judge. It's that, according to the experts who administered and interpreted the tests for the government, Hoover may not be able to cope with a serious in emergency in the midst of his routine.
Regardless of how one feels about the treatment Hoover received at the hands of the FAA and NTSB, his case could have far-reaching repercussions. For example, one of the FAA's defenses against relaxing its rule requiring airline pilots to retire upon reaching age 60 is that there is no way to accurately determine if a pilot is or is not able to continue to perform in the left seat. Yet, that is exactly how they got Hoover. Will there now be a call for the FAA to institutionalize cognitive ability tests as a possible avenue to doing away with the Age 60 rule?
If that were to happen it might not be so good for all other pilots. It's not hard to imagine a scenario in which political pressure forces the FAA to require such tests for all pilots reaching a certain age. That would be traumatic and very expensive (Who do you suppose would be billed for such tests?), and undoubtedly would lead to big reductions in the pilot population.
All of this is speculation and what-ifs, but thinking about what did happen to Hoover and could happen to each of us has to make you shudder.
Now for some no-strings-attached good news. At this point the most significant effect of congressional and presidential passage of federal standards limiting general aviation manufacturers' liability for their products is Cessna's following through on its long-standing promise to once again produce single-engine, piston-powered airplanes. In about two years, possibly sooner, we should see brand new Cessna 172s, 182s, and 206s being built and delivered to customers.
This will not be a one- or two-year phenomenon, either. Cessna Chairman Russ Meyer has said the company must sustain production of 2,000 or so piston airplanes a year to justify the company's investment in piston production and earn profits. The obvious question is, where will Cessna find all those buyers? After all, deliveries of new piston-engine aircraft by all U.S. general aviation manufacturers in 1993 totaled about one-quarter of Cessna's annual production goal, year in and year out.
To find the answer you have to reach back a couple of decades to when Cessna, Piper, and Beech were churning out training airplanes by the thousands. The 152s, Cherokees, and Skippers were deployed to the manufacturers' affiliated FBOs and put to work teaching future new- airplane buyers how to fly. Flight training was the foundation upon which manufacturers built their customer base. They had to have pilots to sell new airplanes to, so it made sense for the manufacturers to promote flight training. Brand loyalty also was a strong motivator. If someone learns to fly in a Cessna and then goes on to buy an airplane, it's a good bet it will be a Cessna.
Back when the big three manufacturers were promoting flight training, the student start numbers were looking pretty good. Plot student start numbers since 1927 and you'll see that there are four distinctive peaks. The first occurs during World War II and is explained by the Civilian Pilot Training program. The second spike in pilot training activity takes place just after the war when tens of thousands of military veterans learned to fly on the G.I. Bill. The third and fourth peaks were registered in 1967 and again in 1977 — smack in the middle of the most prolific periods of piston-powered aircraft production. In 1977 alone, some 203,000 new pilots were registered by the FAA.
Although many factors contributed to the popularity of flight training and new-aircraft sales — government financial assistance in the form of the G.I. Bill and favorable tax laws, for example — manufacturers deserve a lot of the credit. They also must shoulder the responsibility of turning away from their support of flight training when sales of new piston-powered aircraft began an unimpeded nose dive in 1979.
Thanks to general aviation tort reform, it looks as though Cessna will return to its strategy of promoting flight training to build a customer base for its piston products. The vehicle now, as then, will be Cessna Pilot Centers. Established in 1970, CPCs offer a standard, integrated ground instruction and flight training curriculum using filmstrips and cassette tapes, workbooks, and a flight instructor. The system has been highly successful at turning out pilots. Cessna still supports about 375 CPCs in the United States, and upgrading them to state- of-the-art training facilities is part of Cessna's overall plan to return to piston production.
Manufacturers' near-complete abandonment of flight training has had a devastating effect on the regeneration of the pilot population. Now it looks like the biggest of the big three may be returning to the tradition of nurturing general aviation's rootstock. And that may be the best possible effect of the General Aviation Revitalization Act.