What's going on is the molding of a compliant student into a fully fledged pilot in command, or PIC. Beginning student pilots are taught to perform in response to requests, following an explanation and demonstration. Such mimicry can be fine, so long as the student understands why and how to apply the acquired skill. At that point, the certificated flight instructor (CFI) is always there to reinforce or discourage choices. After the pilot certificate is earned, however, responsibility for the safe conduct of a flight falls entirely upon the new pilot. It's important that the student learn to think and act like a PIC.
What does PIC mean?
The status of a pilot in command, whether it's a student flying solo in a training aircraft or an airline transport pilot with 300 passengers in a jumbo jet, is that of a decision maker. Initially, students are control manipulators, pure and simple. Which maneuver to practice and how to perform it is determined by the CFI in the right seat. Later in the program, however, the student pilot will have to rely on stored memory, notes, and self-scoring of the results. After solo, flight training is a shared responsibility.
I have a penchant for having students perform alternating 90-degree climbing turns while en route to the practice area; this puts the otherwise-idle minutes to worthwhile, skill-polishing use and clears our blind spots. I want the student to understand the purpose behind the maneuver, however, not just to initiate a bank-and-yank on command. Eventually, I would like to see students doing these paired turns on their own, because they understand the purpose of them. By doing so, they are becoming a PIC.
Decision making is the only real purpose that a pilot has in the cockpit. Given the parameters, one could program a computer to guide a modern aircraft. No computer, however, can evaluate a flock of birds congregating on the downwind leg and recalculate the widened pattern, with revised timing of power, trim, and flap adjustments. Similarly, the complexity of an en-route weather decision requires a pilot in command to obtain the latest information from various sources, consider the available options with the fuel remaining, and select an appropriate course of action. In the interest of providing a safe training environment, students are often supervised to the point of making very few decisions. This is necessary early in the program, but as the student acquires knowledge and skill, verified by evaluation, some responsibility shifts to the pilot in training. This culminates in the transition to solo flight. Suddenly, there is only one individual in the airplane, and a new PIC is born.
Even so, students who have soloed are relieved of many pilot-in-command responsibilities, or at least they share them with their instructor. Before any flight is undertaken, both must agree on the weather, the aircraft's readiness, and what maneuvers will be practiced. A new private pilot doesn't get this reinforcement after the checkride has been passed.
To prepare for this future responsibility, pilot-in-command training must be an integral part of the concluding phase of flight training. Solo practice is an important component of this; even under a CFI's supervision, flying alone builds a student's confidence in making decisions affecting the outcome of a flight. With confidence comes willingness to actually make these changes, like descending to maintain cloud separation, going around from an unsatisfactory landing approach, and communicating intentions after a sudden change in traffic sequence.
Ideally, solo flight should make up approximately half of the training hours--not to "build time" but to create a confident PIC. There is a modern tendency to lessen the number of solo hours; once mandated at 10 hours, only five hours of solo cross-country time are now required, with much shorter legs on the longest trip than in years past. When assigning students their first post-solo practice sessions, I always stress that much more can be accomplished in an hour of solo, without the distraction of an instructor on board, so long as the student knows exactly how to practice.
Finishing school
You may notice, as a student nearing the completion of your training curriculum, a certain inactivity on the part of the person in the right seat, compared to the high-energy outpourings seen at the beginning of your training. You would be correct in assuming that you're being evaluated. No longer dependent on a constant flow of directions, you can initiate your own routine remedies to return to stable flight. Landings are more or less assured in their outcome, allowing you time to concentrate on precision arrivals. And, as the day of your practical test approaches, you may find the CFI, a former source of guidance and reinforcement, to be more of an inquisitor. He or she may ask, "What would you do if..." as an item of equipment is simulated inoperative or a theoretical rogue aircraft pulls out onto the runway. These scenarios are being created to make you think about your duties as pilot in command.
I frequently ask the checkride-bound student to perform an approach-to-landing stall at an altitude designed to be too low to allow recovery above the 1,500-foot-agl minimum specified in the private pilot practical test standards. After a flawless demonstration, I announce "You just earned a pink slip," and as the student protests I explain that, as pilot in command, he or she should refuse to comply with any request for a demonstration that can't be done safely. The student should have told me, in my role of mock examiner, that he needed to climb before beginning the maneuver.
The instructor must watch the student's response to actual or simulated deviations, to judge his or her ability to extract stored knowledge and apply it. If the CFI acts too quickly to command a correction ("You trimmed the wrong way, give me four turns down") the student only learns to respond like a puppy being taught to sit and stay. Depending on the student's level of training, I will vary the amount of time before pointing out the need to fix something. A presolo student may need frequent callouts of airspeed deviation, whereas a postsolo individual should need little prompting--and a person nearing the checkride should be making all corrections unbidden.
Thus, the ever-watchful instructor who grows quiet, with occasional reinforcing comments, is evaluating the student's fitness to assume all pilot-in-command duties after the checkride. In fact, I try to become a fidgety passenger, asking an inane question at a critical time, to simulate what may be encountered when a new pilot begins to carry passengers--many of whom will be flying for the first time in a light aircraft. "What highway is that?" or "What does this do?" are legitimate distractions, taken from the real world of flying with passengers.
High-time students whose logbooks indicate a preponderance of dual received tend to grow dependent on the CFI, reluctant to put in a full hour of solo practice in the same way a "barn sour" horse would rather stay in its stall rather than go for a ride. CFIs have to be proactive in requiring these individuals to make their own decisions, as soon as they are capable, instead of being a fountain of advice. "You decide," or "Fix it yourself and see what happens" are not rude put-offs; they are forcing you to become PIC. Rather than be offended, you should be pleased by this acknowledgement of your progress.
I frequently overhear a pilot ask a Flight Service Station briefer, ""Do you think it's OK to go?", which is really not a fair question. The briefer doesn't know the pilot's capabilities; his or her job is furnishing the information on which the pilot can base a decision--and the briefer likely is not a pilot. For the PIC, preflight briefings and, more important, en route weather updates are tools of the trade. Never ask someone else if you should begin or continue a flight; that decision belongs to the pilot in command.
Flight instruction must be more than training for a certificate; it should be training for the new pilot's life in the air. Survival quite often means acting as a pilot in command, thinking beyond the pilot's operating handbook to find the proper solution. Observing the obvious, we add common sense to effect a safe outcome. Recently, I saw a suspicious gap under the upper cowling during cruise flight. We returned to the airport and found four out of nine cowling mounts broken. As pilot in command, I noticed something out of place, took action, and ended the flight successfully. That's what PICs are trained to do.
LeRoy Cook has been an active flight instructor since 1965 and has had more than 1,350 articles published. His latest book, Flying the Flight Retractables, is being published by ASA in early 2006. He is also the author of 101 Things to Do With Your Private License.
Want to know more?
Links to additional resources about the topics discussed in this article are available at AOPA Flight Training Online.
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