External Variables Can Change a Pilot’s Decision-Making Processes

Might as well be at the zoo. Implicit in the activity is the understanding that the person being observed not be aware of the examination. It is believed that once someone knows eyes are on them, they act differently. The behavior exhibited is no longer genuine. I would argue that the behavior may be different, but it is no less real. 

This is a crucial distinction in aviation. The decisions I make as a pilot when I am alone versus when someone is watching are not the same, though both reflect a genuine part of myself. 

I strive to bring the two as close together as possible, and I’ve achieved some success over the years, but I disregard the remaining gap at my own peril.

Just last week flying into East Hampton, New York, I was brought down rather quickly by ATC as I approached the shoreline from the west. Having the extra altitude flying over Long Island Sound was very nice…until it wasn’t. 

I was fast and high. All I had to do was ask the tower for an extended downwind. But I didn’t. There was a bunch of traffic, and I could tell I was being slotted into a gap between a Pilatus and an Embraer. The tower then asked me if I could make a short pattern. Of course, I can! I’m basically Bob Hoover in a Bonanza. Want me to roll the plane without spilling my coffee? Better be in a thermos.

I had to pitch up to get below landing gear extension speed—152 knots. Then, even higher than I already was, I pointed the nose straight down until I got a “vertical speed” warning. Pulled the power back to 15 inches then dumped the flaps on the shortest of finals but still came over the numbers at 110 kias.

I touched down and then bounced for the first time since I trained as a private pilot 14 years ago. I settled down on the next ground contact and rode out the extra speed, determined not to make it even worse by locking the brakes. Gotta love it when the tower says, “Bonanza, exit taxiway Charlie.” Then, as you blow past the turnoff, “Um, make that Delta.”

Whole thing was a huge stinking pile of bad airmanship. I taxied to the FBO, ashamed and wondering who saw.

Had no one been watching, would I have continued such an unstabilized approach? No chance. I like to think I am my own man who makes decisions that are free of outside influence, but this is not always the case. The kind of external pressure and who is applying it matters greatly. So, too, my own mood, blood-sugar level, and possibly astrological rising sign may come into play.

The point is, it depends on the day.

These choices (and their outcomes) align with personality, not environment. There are pilots that simply don’t feel the burn of social pressure, no matter what’s at stake. And there are those that pick up on the slightest sense of want, disappointment or latent urgency from either a passenger, controller or anyone who “matters” and will sometimes make decisions based on social status over self preservation. Don’t underestimate what those pressures are capable of doing to you.

I have always found the FAA’s list of hazardous attitudes to be funny in that they require the reader to have an incredibly honest sense of self. While the attitudes described—anti-authority, impulsivity, invulnerability, machismo, and resignation—are all surely legitimate pitfalls, most pilots won’t see those descriptors as being relevant to themselves. If they were that aware, they would likely not be affected by them.

The macho reader doesn’t need anyone telling him about his attitude. The invulnerable pilot doesn’t need to bother because he is sure nothing bad will happen to him. The resigned pilot won’t even listen to the reasoning—“What’s the point? It’s too late.” Of course, I’m joking, but only half-joking.

It’s hard to take a hard look. I find it similar to how every person on earth thinks they’re a great driver. Ask someone if they’re a bad driver. One in a thousand might say yes. Everyone else is Lewis Hamilton. Clearly this isn’t true or Allstate would be worth as much as Apple.

I flew an arrival into Van Nuys, California, in May, where SoCal approach tried to dump me, high and fast, into actual IMC. I was VMC at 10,000 feet approaching the UMBER initial approach fix on the ILS into Runway 16R, and I was only a few miles out. To get to the 6,000 foot msl, the waypoint calls for on the IAP would have required a 2,500 fpm descent into the clouds.

This approach was the culmination of a four-hour flight from Santa Fe, New Mexico, so there were reasons to comply and just get on with it. I was fatigued. I was getting close to fuel minimums. The controller sounded busy and I needed a bio break.

But I had a bad feeling that could not be ignored. I asked for a 360 to lose altitude. There is no doubt I heard a sense of annoyance in the controller’s voice. Strangely, it had the opposite effect on me than expected: I got angry. Who was he to pass judgment (even tonally) on a decision made to ensure my own safety? The next level will be to not even take notice of the controller’s mood shift.

Thankfully, there are times when it simply doesn’t matter who is watching. At some point self preservation will trump social pressure—at least for me. I want to live more than I want to please.

We are complicated creatures. External variables can change our decision-making processes. It all depends on who’s watching.

This column first appeared in the October Issue 951 of the FLYING print edition.