That extra five years of eligibility is causing something of a split in professional pilot ranks, at least among those who toil for the scheduled carriers. Many older pilots are quite happy about it, and understandably so. They can now fly for five more years, gain additional seniority, get increasingly better trip or reserve bids, and continue to receive nice checks in the mail. What's not to like?
It's also easy to understand why younger pilots would be angry and frustrated over the change. The new rule means their path to higher seniority, higher pay, and better benefits may be delayed while older pilots languish in the left seat. It's especially galling to those younger pilots who have had to sacrifice pay and benefits to keep their employer afloat during hard times. The prospect of recapturing the good times as their older colleagues retired at age 60 could be delayed up to five years. But it's still too early to have a clear picture of exactly how many airline pilots will opt to fly for the additional five years, or a portion thereof.
The fact is that, as with most other jobs and careers, there are few guarantees these days regarding cockpit positions at scheduled carriers. Those pilots lucky enough to be hired by one of the major cargo operators may be sitting prettiest. Their companies are stable and prosperous, and this is reflected in their generous pilot contracts.
Then there are those who are less lucky because they were hired by once-proud legacy carriers. All of those old-line companies have been buffeted in recent years by low-cost competition, terrorist-induced fear of flying, soaring fuel prices, bankruptcy, and takeover threats. And now, for the younger pilots at least, the age 65 rule pops up to delay their personal economic recovery. What can you say to a pilot flying for one of those beleaguered carriers other than, "Good luck, pal. Hope it works out"?
The age 65 rule has brought into sharp focus the conflicting interests of younger airline pilots and their older colleagues. But there's another effect of the rule that hasn't gotten much notice. The new, higher mandatory retirement age has a lot of general aviation pilots in their 50s thinking Walter Mitty thoughts such as, Hey, maybe there's a seat waiting for me at some air carrier.
For example, a few weeks ago the notion of me flying for the airlines wasn't even a remote possibility. I'm well into my 50s--57.65, in fact. Under the old rule, I would be on the short side of three years from mandatory retirement from an airline flying career that hasn't even begun. I'd have barely enough time to get through the application, interview, training, and initial experience phases before my buddies would be giving me a retirement party and a cheap watch.
Now suddenly I have 7.35 years of good, solid, scheduled air carrier flying ahead of me. All I need is a job. That has me thinking what-if thoughts, as in, What if I decide to go for it? Does it make any sense to launch a new career with a maximum 7.35-year life span?
Possibly. I possess the basic credentials, so I wouldn't have to rush out and try to build time and accumulate new ratings and certificates. (One regional carrier advertises that its minimum qualifications include 500 hours total time and 100 multi, with commercial certificate and multiengine and instrument ratings.) My main tasks would be getting my paperwork in order and securing and preparing for an interview. But what if I was hired? Would I give up what I'm doing and take the job?
It's fun to think about. Flying for a scheduled carrier would be a complete change of scenery, and on one level that is appealing. I believe that periodically in life you need to throw the balls up in the air to see where and how they'll land. Change--in particular, career change done willfully rather than being forced on you--brings new challenges, new energy, new rewards, and new satisfaction. Change makes life interesting.
But, reporting to work at some regional airline as a new-hire at an age beyond which most baby boomers would like to be in early retirement? And at a salary approaching 20 grand a year (that's what a well-known regional pays its first officers)? How dumb is that?
People do it. They leave lucrative careers to schlep for an airline--any airline. It may seem crazy, but for some people, it can work--such is the drug-like addiction to flying. We'll do almost anything to satisfy the craving, and people who hire pilots have known that since the first commercial certificate was issued. Every aspiring professional pilot probably would wear a T-shirt that reads, "Will fly for cheap."
That said, I don't think I'll be trying to capitalize on my newfound airline age eligibility by sending in applications and knocking on doors. I'm not prepared to give up my day job, and income, to become a new-hire first officer. Besides, I'm already getting my professional flying fix as a contract pilot on a couple of business jets.
I got into professional flying about five years ago, relatively late in life, while still pursuing my daily bread as an editor and writer. If the age 65 rule had been enacted then, I might have done things differently, but we go with what we're dealt. My double-dipping strategy works well because the type of flying I do--corporate and charter work --allows for it. We fly to the destination airport and then, more often than not, wait for our passengers for much of the day, if not several. That gives me quality time with the laptop to work on copy.
The downside to the career course correction I made is the job security on the flying side--there's even less of it than at the most tentative of airlines. In fact, there is none. No union, no long-term contract with employers, no guarantees of any kind. If we fly, I get paid. If we don't, I don't. It's a very direct relationship, the same kind I live with on the editorial side--no words, no check--and I prefer it that way.
A pilot intent on a career as a professional has some tough decisions to make, and one of the most important is whether or not to take the fork in the road that leads to an airline cockpit. That's a decision every career-oriented pilot faces. To each I say, "Good luck, pal. Hope it works out."
Mark Twombly is a writer and editor who has been flying since 1968. He is a commercial pilot with instrument and multiengine ratings and co-owner of a Piper Aztec.