Another Flight Safety Lesson

Flying Safety, July, 2001 by J.S.T. Ragman

I had never seen a copilot take the airplane from a captain. I did what I had to do.

One week, two flight safety situations, two radically different responses. What lessons could I draw from the comparison? With over 20 years flying airplanes, I had attended many a class regarding cockpit coordination concepts, crew resource management, and the latest iteration: human factors and error management. Indeed, I had spent the better part of two years instructing airline crews in the latter.

First lesson: We can learn and learn, we can teach and teach; but there will always be another flight safety lesson to be learned and taught. Second lesson: Knowledge, rank and friendship can indeed be obstacles to effective crew resource management.

Tuesday, the airline job, the Northeast Corridor, in the initial phase of our descent, in instrument conditions. I had flown the southbound leg, the Captain was flying the northbound leg. Passing through 18,000 feet, we encountered an aural and visual traffic advisory (TA) on our TCAS. Moments later, we received an aural and visual resolution advisory (RA) commanding us to "Climb, climb, climb." The Captain continued his descent. I directed him to climb. He did not. I had no doubt in my mind as to what must be done. I took action. I kicked off the autothrottles, kicked off the autopilot, advanced the power, pulled back on the yoke, and climbed as directed by the TCAS. Twelve years in the airline business. I had never seen a copilot take the airplane from a captain. I did what I had to do.

Three days later, Friday, the Air Force Reserve, a night tactical mission, chaff and flares are loaded. I was sitting in the right seat. The squadron commander, a Gulf War veteran and former Chief of Stan/Eval, was in the left seat. Indeed, I was the only crewmember who was not Stan/Eval. The navigator, flight engineer, and both loadmasters were Stan/Eval. And we were friends. We hung together, drank together and shot the breeze together.

It was my first chaff/flare ride. I had reviewed the defensive systems prior to mission showtime. Indeed, I had compiled a squadron study guide on the defensive systems in anticipation of our upcoming Balkans deployment.

As we ran our checklists on taxi-out, I issued the challenge "safety switch, safety pins," the loadmaster responded "removed." I thought for a moment: "If I recall correctly, there is now nothing between a stray electron and inadvertent flare deployment. For the first portion of our flight, we will be overflying populated areas, as in shingle roofs." I queried the crew: "Are we sure we want those pins pulled?" The crew responded: "Yes." I queried the crew yet again: "Is there anything between a stray electron and the flare dispensers, as in inadvertent flare deployment?" The crew responded: "We're okay." I tried yet again: "How about we wait until we're over water before we pull the pins?" Again, the crew responded: "We are okay."

As it turns out, we were okay. That time. Following our landing, and our return to the squadron, I reviewed the dispenser systems yet again. Indeed, there was nothing standing between a stray electron, inadvertent flare deployment, a roof fire, and possible civilian injury or death. To say nothing of embarrassment, legal action or disciplinary action.

Why had I not been more sensitive during the course of my Friday night Reserve mission? Where was my airline assertiveness on that Friday night? Clearly, the airline instance directly impacted my safety, whereas the Reserve instance had not. But there was far more to my lack of assertiveness.

First: In the airline instance, I was confident of my procedural knowledge. In the Reserve instance, I was not sufficiently confident of my defensive systems knowledge. Solution: Make every effort to know my stuff, inside and out, prior to every mission; furthermore, have confidence in my knowledge.

Second: In the airline instance, our relative seat positions meant nothing in terms of proficiency, knowledge, experience, judgment or skills. He was the Captain and I was the First Officer, simply because he had been hired before me. Nothing more to that story. In the Reserve instance, the man was my Commander. He was also the former Chief of Stan/Eval, both positions based upon merit, not seniority. Command and Stan/Eval mean something. Solution: Rank and crew qualifications do indeed mean something, but there is no rank or qualification which will eliminate the inescapable truth that we are all human beings, and that all human beings can be wrong on occasion.

Third: In the airline business you fly with a man for a day and you may not see him again for two years. I commute back to Evergreen, Colorado; he commutes back to Burlington, Vermont. If the man does not like my assertiveness regarding a TCAS RA, that's his baggage--not mine. In the Reserve instance we are friends: We hang together, drink together, and we shoot the breeze together. Solution: Just as the expression states "Friends don't let friends drive drunk," so too, "Friends don't let friends commit unsafe acts." I should have spoken up more assertively because we are friends.