Who's in charge here?
The problem is that if you don't know exactly what that other person really wants you to do, it's not possible to comply adequately with the request. Some pilots, faced with that kind of ambiguity, manifest a tendency to follow along obediently, sacrificing their own sense of what's safe and what isn't. That's especially so under stress, when faced with instructions from an authority figure such as an air traffic controller. Tone of voice or emphasis, as delivered to the ear by an aircraft radio, is also part of the equation. If the tone is perceived as urgent, there is even less chance that the intimidated or uncertain pilot will seek to clarify the request, let alone decline to comply--even for a good reason.
A hazardous attitude? Potentially so, as two minor but very avoidable accidents that occurred in April 2006 and April 2007 will illustrate. Neither of the pilots involved could be seen as possessing the "five hazardous attitudes" described in the "Human Factors" discussion in Chapter 16 of the Pilot's Handbook of Aeronautical Knowledge. So that leaves a sixth hazardous attitude: call it excessive deference. In some cases the proper phrase might be lack of self confidence when interacting with others perceived to possess superior knowledge or experience.
The cited chapter of the handbook, on aeronautical decision making, states that an estimated 75 percent of all aviation accidents "are human factors related." Here is the chapter's working description of human factors: "The study of how people interact with their environments. In the case of general aviation, it is the study of how pilot performance is influenced by such issues as the design of cockpits, the function of the organs of the body, the effects of emotions, and the interaction and communication with the other participants of the aviation community, such as other crewmembers and air traffic control personnel."
On April 27, 2007, a Cessna 152 was taxiing to park in San Antonio, Texas, near a departing airliner. "The single-engine airplane was blown over by the jet blast of a departing twin-turbine-powered airliner while taxiing. The single-engine airplane had been instructed by air traffic control (ATC) to taxi to a parking area via a taxiway that crossed behind the waiting airliner.
"Meanwhile, the scheduled airliner was issued a takeoff clearance. As the airliner powered up to enter the active runway for departure, the jet blast rolled the single-engine airplane over to an inverted position. The private pilot and passenger were able to exit the airplane unassisted. The single-engine airplane's right wing sustained structural damage. The airliner, unaware of what had occurred, departed the airport," according to the online accident summary from the National Transportation Safety Board (NTSB).
The report cited language from the Aeronautical Information Manual that "'the flight disciplines necessary to ensure vortex avoidance during VFR operations must be exercised by the pilot.' According to FAA order 7110.65R, ground controllers are to 'use caution when taxiing smaller aircraft/helicopters in the vicinity of larger aircraft.'" Consistent with those cautions, the NTSB determined the probable cause of the accident as "the single-engine pilot's failure to avoid the jet blast while taxiing and the ground controller's inattentiveness to the situation, which resulted in the airplane's being blown over."
Suppose you were in the traffic pattern at a tower-controlled airport and you heard the controller call your number and say, "Turn final now." Is that a routine instruction or an urgent request? That may depend on what the definition of "now" is.
On April 28, 2006, a student pilot entering the traffic pattern in Honolulu, Hawaii, had to make that decision while also juggling an amended runway assignment, as an NTSB report narrates: "The airplane was damaged during a hard landing. The student pilot was returning from the practice area, and the controller in the air traffic control tower cleared him into Class B airspace for landing on Runway 4L. Then the tower controller cleared him to land on Runway 4R. He was too close on downwind to make the approach. He asked the controller to let him go toward the ocean. The controller told him to turn final 'now' because of outbound traffic.
"The student pilot thought that this was an urgent request to land immediately. He felt he was too high (800 feet) and his airspeed (95 knots) was faster than it should be. He lowered 10 degrees of flaps, selected idle power, and aimed toward the runway. He knew that he would land long, and wanted to go around; however, he didn't want to interfere with the departing traffic.
"His airspeed was still fast, he flared too early, and the airplane landed hard. The airplane began to porpoise. He tried to prevent the propeller from striking the ground, and added power to stop from descending too quickly. He stopped the airplane beside the runway, and then taxied back onto the runway and to the ramp." The accident cause remained narrowly focused in the NTSB document as "the pilot's misjudged flare resulting in a hard landing and a porpoise pilot induced oscillation."
Mistaken judgments can be based on omissions, or assumptions, as well as commands. Does this kind of human-factors problem have a remedy in pilot training? Instructors can diagnose an emerging tendency in students to be passive participants in hazardous situations, and nip the problem in the bud through a two-pronged technique. The time to probe for the tendency is as soon as the presolo student is obviously maturing in the decision making area, depending less on the instructor's advice and asking for less reassurance on every flight.
The first step is for the CFI to wean the student off needing reassurances in flight by simply declining to respond to direct requests for affirmation of decisions that the student is clearly capable of making by himself. The student asks, "Should I add more flaps now?" or, "Should I go around?" It may have been constructive at an earlier stage for the instructor to respond with something like, "I think that is a very good idea," but now it is better if the CFI simply remains silent. The aircraft, of course, is still speeding along at 100 knots, give or take, begging some action from the student pilot.
If the student digests the CFI's silence and then selects a prudent course, fine--he or she has demonstrated know-how and self-confidence. If the results are iffy, a more aggressive instructional tactic may do the trick. Instead of responding with silence, the CFI intentionally gives a flagrantly wrong answer! Here the CFI must be ready to quickly get on the controls and stop bad things from happening--but this approach is an effective way to find out whether a student pilot faced with an outrageous challenge to his judgment will obediently follow a bad tip, or take a stand.
Either way it will be a significant learning experience, probably promising that next time, action will be taken promptly, thus avoiding being blown over by a taxiing airliner, being rushed into an unsafe landing attempt, or any of the dozens of other threats to safety that can surface when a pilot's guard is down.
Dan Namowitz is an aviation writer and flight instructor. A pilot since 1985 and an instructor since 1990, he resides in Maine.
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