As I write this, the Apple Watch has just launched, spawning what will no doubt be a generation of kids, hipsters, and yuppies who think digging in your pocket for your phone or carrying a wallet is far too inconvenient. Many more of us will hold out, but probably cave in and buy one as well.
If I sound cynical, it’s because I am. The paradox of technology has been studied at length, mainly from an economic standpoint. Despite rapid advancements in capabilities, productivity continues to increase only at a marginal rate. The office of the future is still just that.
Aviation has its own technology paradox, although it’s one of a different sort. Aside from GPS, datalink weather has provided the greatest leap forward in light airplane situational awareness in the past 50 years, if not ever. That’s due as much to its ubiquitous nature as to what it does. Airborne weather radar has
been around much longer, but it’s expensive and requires training and experience to use properly. (For more on datalink
and its benefits, see Alyssa J. Miller’s story, “Practical Weather,” beginning
on page 38.)
With the incredible advancement comes a fundamental question, maybe even a paradox. Does using datalink weather enable us to make flights or does it cause us to take chances we wouldn’t otherwise take?
Like any pilot who considers himself prudent, my personal answer is no. I primarily use it as an aid to show large areas of weather to avoid. But if I’m honest with myself, there have been a few times I’ve used it to pinpoint routes of safe passage.
Case in point: A few months ago AOPA photographer Chris Rose and I were flying from Georgia to Maryland in a Beechcraft Bonanza. The boss’s airplane,
I should mention. I watched for a few hundred miles as a line of strong rain turned into a powerful bow echo. It was clear we were going to lose the race home, so plan B became to follow it. As weather built behind the initial line, however, that plan became more complicated.
We lucked out with a superb air traffic controller who gave us guidance on areas of lighter rain that I confirmed seeing on the datalink. We punched through maybe five miles of moderate precipitation to beautiful clear skies on the other side. I thought nothing of it until a JetBlue pilot 10 minutes behind me tried the same route and turned around. He spent the next 15 minutes flying in circles talking to his dispatch and looking for an alternate route.
Even with the benefit of hindsight I’m not sure I’d change my actions. Datalink information is several minutes old, and it’s certainly not as accurate as onboard weather radar. But that doesn’t make using it to its full potential inherently dangerous. Getting to know its quirks and tricks helps immensely, and reveals the traps that can turn a leap forward in situational awareness into an unwanted enabler. Never have I taken a flight with datalink wishing I hadn’t. I can’t say the same for those I took without it.
The answer to the paradox is clear. It’s not that the technology doesn’t live up to its promises or its capabilities. It’s that we don’t live up to ours.
Related Articles
