It used to be routine to take off with maximum thrust in a jetliner, too, but operating economics changed that practice many years ago. Instead of using maximum-allowable power for takeoff, airline pilots today are encouraged to use a reduced thrust setting to save fuel and reduce engine wear and tear. In effect, they pretend that the ambient temperature is warmer than it really is and reduce thrust to approximate the reduced performance that would be experienced on a hot day when using maximum thrust.
There are times when using reduced thrust is not permitted, such as when indications of wind shear exist near the airport. Another such time is when the runway is contaminated with rain, snow, or ice. Using reduced thrust obviously increases takeoff distance, and the presence of runway contaminants would increase stopping distance in the event of an aborted takeoff. The combination of reduced thrust and a contaminated runway could, therefore, require more runway length than might be available.
I recall once when my first officer and I were taxiing at a snail’s pace in a long procession of aircraft toward Runway 30L at St. Louis. Number two was making the calculations necessary to complete the takeoff performance chart. (That was before computers did the work.) His attention alternated between the chart and the damp runway to our left, uncertain whether or not to use reduced thrust for takeoff.
Looking in my direction, he asked, “I can’t figure out if we should use reduced or maximum thrust. What do you think?”
I answered with a question. “What would you say at the hearing?”
He looked at me quizzically. “What are you talking about? What hearing?”
We had worked our way up to number 12 in the takeoff queue, leaving plenty of time to discuss the problem and arrive at the right decision.
“Let’s assume,” I began, “that we had an engine failure just before V1 and had to abort. Assume also that we did not stop within the confines of the runway and wound up burying the nosewheel in the weeds. The NTSB would conduct a hearing to investigate the incident, right?”
“Of course,” he replied.
“One member of the Inquisition would ask why we used reduced thrust when the runway was contaminated. We would reply by saying that the runway was only damp, not really wet. He would then look at us with the probing intensity of a prosecutor and ask, ‘Do you mean to say that you thought that you could stop just as quickly as when the runway is absolutely dry?’ If we were honest, we would have to concede that any dampness on the runway adversely affects braking, and that we probably should not have used reduced thrust. The result could be a month or more on the beach—without pay—and a sizeable contribution to the federal treasury.
Number two returned to his work sheet, deleted the figures for reduced thrust, and replaced them with figures needed for using maximum thrust.
This method of aeronautical decision making can be applied to almost any operational decision about which a pilot might be uncertain. If he wants to make the best—safest—decision, all he has to do is ask himself how he would explain what he was about to do to the FAA. Could he retrospectively justify his actions under an investigative microscope? If not, the decision is likely wrong.
Such a conservative decision-making process applies equally to the operation of light airplanes.
Assume that a pilot is flying into progressively deteriorating weather. The decision to proceed is an ongoing process. If he envisions having to justify his decisions at the Inquisition, the pilot might decide earlier that conditions do not warrant continuation. Another way to assist in making the right decision is to assume that an FAA inspector occupies your right seat and is grading your decision-making performance.
Consider a pilot running low on fuel. He believes that he has enough to reach his destination, but a gnawing doubt makes him wonder whether or not to make a fuel stop short of his destination. Accident records are replete with the results of those who ignored their gut feelings and continued anyway. All such a pilot needs to do is imagine the potential consequences and having to justify his actions at the hearing (and possibly to his Maker).
Anticipating questions that might be asked at the hearing is one of the best countermeasures to making poor decisions, and can preclude the need to attend a hearing in the first place.