Pilot Decision Making

In many cases, the airline way is the right way

Decisions, decisions - as pilots, we make hundreds of decisions each time we fly. Most of them, thankfully, are sound ones. It's when we make bad decisions that we either make headlines or reserve a page in some forgotten NTSB text.

If accident statistics are to be believed, airline pilots make the very best decisions, but there's nothing really supernatural about them. Here's part of the secret: Airline pilots have less freedom when making decisions…and that's not a bad thing. Airline flying is more controlled, more restrictive. It's more regulated and procedural. Airline pilots are bound by a more stringent set of regulations, which ensures the safety of the goods and people who travel. There are restrictions that make it both easier and more difficult for the airline pilot to make decisions. And there's no question that these restrictions make it safer to fly.

There is no doubt that equipment represents part of the safety advantage of airlines. Airliners generally are more capable of compensating when widgets, electrons, and motors don't work as advertised. Things tend to quit less often in big equipment. There is also more redundancy, more backup, and more capability when things quit; if an engine fails on the Boeing 727 that I fly, it's not a big deal. We continue to fly the airplane; accept and plan for the charted, lower performance; and accomplish the emergency checklists. If the engine quits on a general aviation airplane, it could be a very bad day indeed, depending on the timing of the event. Performance is far from guaranteed.

GA doesn't need more regulation. But what can we learn about the way airline pilots, with their enviable safety records, make decisions? Do they do anything different in their Boeings and 'Buses than we do in our Bonanzas and Bellancas?

Procedure plays a big part in good decision making. In the airline business, we look at the weather, check the fuel load prepared by a dispatcher, and make a go/no-go decision - all based on procedure. If the weather at the departure airport is zero-zero, the airline captain cannot even begin his takeoff roll. He must have takeoff minimums that are dictated by his company's operations manual, the federal aviation regulations, crew training, and the capability of the airport from which he is departing. This might mean one mile visibility at some airports with minimum lighting facilities, or perhaps 600 feet runway visual range (RVR) for airports that are more adequately endowed with runway centerline lighting.

For GA pilots flying under FAR Part 91, that zero-zero weather is legal for takeoff - not smart, but legal. In these conditions, there is very little possibility of a safe return if the door pops open on takeoff or the vacuum pump fails as the gear hits the wells. I can legally depart in my Cessna 185 in just about any weather, fly to my destination without ever seeing out the window, shoot the approach to minimums, and land at the destination. This in spite of the fact that my 185 is flown single-pilot, receives excellent but far less maintenance than the Boeings that I fly; has a single ILS receiver; carries no flight director, radar, or autopilot; and the pilot doesn't train for CAT III approaches to 50 feet and RVR 600, as airline pilots do. Is that smart? With 73 percent of our accidents having weather as a contributing factor, I have to wonder. More regulation won't make us any safer, but perhaps we could adopt some of the airlines' procedures to increase our safety.

A major guiding light in the airline business is the airline's operations manual. This manual tells crews exactly how the airline wants its airplanes flown. For example, it sets out the exact procedures for getting weather, dealing with passengers, and what crosswind limits the captain can accept. It defines what weather the captain must have for all operations. There are few things that are not covered.

In the operations manual, for example, the airline tells us that we have to maintain "10 miles from strong cells when below 20,000." This assumes that the cell can be detected and we know where the worst of the cell is located.

In GA, we have no such book of clues. We are happily on our own, left to our own judgment and discretion - and this often leads us into temptation. Can we remain 10 miles from strong cells while flying in a Cessna 172? Can we even see the weather and measure that distance in order to make these kinds of determinations? Or do we trust a busy controller to "keep you out of trouble?"

Experience plays a big part in making good decisions. As we gain more and more piloting experience - and hopefully retain the lessons of that experience - our decisions become more and more conservative. We tend to react more slowly, thoughtfully, and carefully.

Perhaps there was a time in our inexperienced past when we might have reacted quickly to a "challenge" issued by ATC to be the first one to shoot an ILS approach at an airport when the weather came up, or to make a crossing restriction that would be impossible for anything but a brick. But our more experienced self tends to slow this process down until the memory is consulted and honored, our own limitations and equipment realistically evaluated and admitted. With this perspective, we tend to make better decisions.

With experience, there's more allowance for Murphy, too. You remember ol' Murphy - he's the clever trickster who hides in the shadows of our cockpits, waiting for the right moment to appear and generally ruin your whole day. On a recent flight, Murphy showed up unexpectedly (that's his trademark) when I was flying from Paris to Copenhagen; he decided to disable the vertical gyro for a time during the climb. The 727 has another gyro to power the attitude indicator, and we simply switched to that backup; but if Murphy had had his way, we would have been grounded in Copenhagen with little chance of departing on time for our destination, Stockholm.

Experience allows us to accept Murphy at his orneriest, to expect and prepare for him in our routine thinking. It's part of the continuous "what if" process in which all wise aviators engage. "What if the engine quit now?" or perhaps "What if the fog gets worse at midmorning instead of better, as forecast - do I have enough fuel for that contingency?" How many times has the weather done something that you didn't anticipate? If you plan for the Murphy factor, it won't be a problem; if you simply trust and hope, someday you will find yourself surprised or disappointed - or in a place where only additional fuel and a miracle with the weather will pull you through.

Experience creates a reservoir of options, a quiver from which to draw our arrows. We don't attempt that crosswind landing with six inches of snow on the runway because we've seen a similar situation before, and it wasn't pretty staring through the side windows at the runway end lights with max braking and full reverse. Or we refuse to "keep the speed up" behind that 757 on final because we've been caught in its wake turbulence before, and it was violent and risky close to the ground. Experience is a great teacher if you can get it without killing yourself.

Discipline is a part of the decision-making process, too. There are good things and bad things about discipline. If we are forced to do things in a way that is safe and procedural and we are trained to do them until they become the only way we know, we naturally become better at doing them that specific way. If we live with this forced-march discipline long enough, we eventually become disciplined and accept it as normal. In the airline business, discipline is created with training, reinforced in standardization and checkrides, and required by the various regulations and the company's operations manual. Like it or not, it works.

Distrust is another key element in making good decisions. It's a healthy characteristic for all pilots. The longer we fly, the more we naturally distrust mechanical things - and organic ones like people, too. Some would call this the natural process of aging, while others might see it as becoming curmudgeonly. But it's obvious that a longer period of observation gives us more opportunities to see those times when things don't work out the way we expect - and if you were to tally the numbers, things don't work out as expected far more often than they do. If the flight service station tells you that the weather is going to clear by 9 a.m., you need to have an alternate plan. Ask, "What if it doesn't?" Don't trust the engine to run. Don't trust another pilot to check your oil and fuel caps. Don't trust the controller who tells you, "No traffic observed; frequency change approved; good day."

Distrust is also a healthy part of self-evaluation. Challenge your own decisions constantly. The key question is, "What if that doesn't work?" or "What if that decision doesn't play out the way I think it will?" This prepares you for alternatives, for those times when we make the wrong decision, or the information we need to make a decision is incomplete or incorrect.

Often, when analyzing why a pilot crashed, it seems obvious that he or she decided to stick to a bad decision and go through with it - no matter what. That is not good for the life insurance actuarials. Our decisions should always be made with the idea that they are only temporary; cockpit decisions are never final. Rather, each decision naturally leads to the next. For example, when considering whether to begin an approach to an airport with low ceilings and visibility because of fog, it's not enough to make the decision to begin the approach. You must also decide what to do if you don't find a runway environment when you reach minimums. Will you miss the approach? Hold? Divert to an alternate? Divert to your filed alternate? All of these decisions are "conditional;" that is, the answers to the questions are based on a set of givens and knowns that exist when the question is asked. If any of these change, it's time to ask more questions, to make another decision - to make a sound decision.

Links to additional information about pilot decision making may be found on AOPA Online ( www.aopa.org/pilot/links/links9910.shtml).