Broken Trust

Broken Trust

By Robert N. Rossier, EAA 472091

 

This piece originally ran in Robert’s Stick and Rudder column in the April 2022 issue of EAA Sport Aviation magazine.

 

Flying airplanes is an exercise in trust. We trust that our mechanics do what is needed to ensure our airplane will keep running and stay in one piece. We trust the weather forecasts — at least to a point — and the weather information we receive in flight. We trust air traffic control is doing its job when we fly IFR and keeping us safely separated from other aircraft and away from the terrain — and when we ask for assistance such as with flight following. We trust in our own training and abilities that we can handle what comes our way. Although we don’t often think about it, it takes a lot of trust to fly an airplane comfortably.

 

What makes the flying environment even more comfortable is the technology and automation available to us. Those systems are there to reduce our workload, provide information at our fingertips, and make flying safer. At times, however, taking advantage of automation and technology in an airplane can be a dangerous undertaking. Too much reliance on technology can slowly erode our skills and knowledge, leaving us in a precarious position. Sometimes we may miss things that are right in front of our eyes.

 

Trusting the Instruments

 

We don’t get too far into our aviation training before we are taught to trust the instruments. Whether we’re a student pilot or an airline transport pilot, we learn to trust those flight instruments with our lives. After all, we know that our senses can easily be fooled when our vision is limited, but the flight instruments work independently of our ability to see the horizon.

 

Our trust in instruments extends beyond the basic flight instruments. One of the more recent additions to many instrument panels is ADS-B, which allows us to see where traffic is in relation to our position. We often see traffic on our ADS-B display long before we see that traffic through the windscreen. So, we add the ADS-B to our cockpit scan, along with our outside visual scan and our instrument scan. However, many of us have the tendency to put too much reliance on this technology that works so well and provides us with critical information. The problem, of course, is that not all aircraft are ADS-B equipped. An over-reliance on technology leaves us vulnerable to precisely the danger the technology was designed to help us avoid.

 

Recently, reality gave me a wake-up call when an airplane without ADS-B suddenly materialized — seemingly out of nowhere. My ADS-B display was void of any traffic, but there was the aircraft, plain as day. Although I saw the airplane in time to avoid a conflict, the story could have had a different outcome. It was just dumb luck that I saw the airplane when I did. The incident got me thinking about how complacency can creep into the cockpit, and set us up for a serious fall.

 

Trusting Communications

 

Whether we fly IFR or VFR, we often find ourselves communicating with ATC. Here again, there is a level of trust in the clearances and instructions provided by ATC. Although that trust is well earned, we still need to recognize that our communications technology is not infallible.

 

Years ago, I was conducting a training flight with an instrument student flying out of Jefferson County Airport (Jeffco; now Rocky Mountain Metropolitan Airport) outside of Denver, Colorado. My student worked all day and was a bit tired, but he decided to make the early evening training flight anyway. Testing his situational awareness shortly after takeoff, I assigned him a westerly heading at 8,000 feet. I told him to expect vectors for an instrument landing system approach back into Jeffco.

 

To our west, the front range of the Rocky Mountains rises up 12,000 to 14,000 feet — an impenetrable wall of granite particularly intimidating for an aircraft westbound at 8,000 feet. Although I was playing the role of ATC, I prompted him several times to maintain his situational awareness. Suspecting that he wasn’t, I went silent, simulating a loss of ATC communication, and not providing the vectors he was expecting. I wanted to see if he was really awake and aware. I wanted to see how long it would take him to recognize that something was amiss. Minutes later, I instructed him to remove the hood. He stared incredulously for a moment at the view out the windscreen, and then abruptly rolled into a turn away from the rapidly rising terrain ahead.

 

He got the message, realizing that any number of scenarios could cause him to lose contact with the controller, and that he needed to maintain situational awareness at all times. We must frequently put our trust in the controller, but we must also recognize that our connection can easily be broken through an unnoticed technological glitch, inadvertent push of a button, or untimely twist of a knob.

 

Trusting George

 

Perhaps the most prized piece of technology in the cockpit is the autopilot — affectionately referred to as “George” in aviation circles. Whether it’s a three-axis coupled autopilot or a simple wing leveler, it can put a steady hand on the stick when we need to divert our attention elsewhere. But if our attention is diverted for too long, we may be surprised by what old George has or has not done.

 

An Eastern Air Lines flight from New York to Miami, Florida, nearly 50 years ago serves as a grim reminder of how blindly trusting the autopilot can lead to disaster. Nearing its nighttime arrival in Miami, the crew of Eastern Flight 401 became distracted by a landing gear indicator that did not illuminate. They requested a hold west of the airport so they could sort out the issue. All three flight crew worked diligently to troubleshoot the problem while George flew the ill-fated Lockheed L-1011 jumbo jet unmonitored. At some point, the autopilot was inadvertently disengaged. The aircraft entered a slow descent and unwittingly slammed into the swamps of the Florida Everglades. More than 100 people, including the flight crew, lost their lives.

 

Accidentally disengaging the autopilot is only one way to introduce a fatal error into our flight plan. As pilots, we must understand how our autopilot system works, where it gets its information, where it is navigating to, and how to know when it isn’t functioning as planned. An autopilot can clearly be a vital tool when the cockpit workload is high, but we must always be on guard to ensure George is performing as we expect.

 

Taking Off the Blinders

 

As much as we extol the virtues of aviation skill and knowledge, we must also acknowledge the element of trust inherent in flying. It’s just too easy to become complacent, or overly reliant on technology, automation, and outside assistance. It is okay to trust, but we must also verify that we’re on the right track. Advances in technology continue to make flying safer and easier, but they can also leave us vulnerable to new traps and unseen dangers. We should have trust in our technology, and have faith that it can help keep us informed, aware, and in a safe situation. But we must take off the blinders, understand the technology and its limitations, and always remain vigilant to ensure our trust has not been broken.

 

 

Robert N. Rossier, EAA 472091, has been flying for more than 40 years and has worked as a flight instructor, commercial pilot, chief pilot, and FAA flight check airman.

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