The safety business belongs to those who can keep a cool head. I remember a perplexing flap rig problem on a B727; the logical minded engineers wanted to surgically attack the problem with the finesse of a sledgehammer. One mechanic stood back and promised to find the cause without all the hassle. Six hours later a $10 bad bearing was discovered; this ah-ha moment saved thousands of dollars of wasted fixes thrown at a problem and numerous man-hours. It always taught me to stop … think … act, with emphasis on the ‘think’ part.
In the same vein, making improvements to accident prevention requires a sober approach. Effectively perfecting the flying public’s safety is better served by serious reformers, not idea men. Accidents are a serious business; resolute planners know that to successfully implement change the problem must be looked at expertly, even analytically. When left to the self-serving bureaucrat standing up waving his hand Arnold Horshack-style, we end up with mediocre solutions that waste time and resources, inadvertently adding error.
Look at Deployable Recorders, a contender for the ‘Wayback’ Machine prize; very Buck Rogers, but dangerous and impractical. How would recorders deploy? With lots of explosive squibs and impact sensors. The recorders are then relocated externally, underneath a fairing. How to test? Hmmm. What happens if a baggage handler accidently bumps the plane’s impact sensors with a cart? Test complete; provide medical assistance to pilot/mechanic/baggage handler/fueler hit by jettisoned recorders.
Why not upload directly to a satellite?
With the Air France 447 accident the idea was presented to install cameras in the cockpit. In the wake of Germanwings 9525, it was suggested that cameras would have prevented the tragedy. I don’t see how. Fish barrel recommendations are high-profile; they are indicative of tunnel vision that ignores the Probable Cause’s validity. These myopic arguments are suspicious where no thought is given to resulting consequences. In my opinion these proposals are dangerous because the risks outweigh the benefits, demonstrating a serious lack of industry knowledge.
Remember the HAL 9000 computer from 2001: A Space Odyssey? HAL’s absolute access to everything – visually, vocally, etc. – dooms the spaceship Discovery’s human cargo. What is most disturbing: the astronauts go to great lengths to hide a conversation from HAL; they deactivate microphones, input terminals and hide in a maintenance pod, only to have their lips read by the all-seeing electric eye of the computer.
Some might say, “That’s a pilot problem” or a Part 121 concern. True, it hardly deflects the needle on the average maintenance technician Care-o-meter … for now. But let’s stop for a moment and put on our official Oliver Stone Conspiracy Caps and take a sympathetic point of view.
Many technicians have already faced the modern maintenance programs in the Parts 121, 135 and 145 worlds. Work (Task) cards are emblazoned with bar codes, each scanned in/out, and time needed to complete the job logged. The bean counters at Brand X airlines now know how long it takes you to lube a flap. By averaging all past flap lubes official task times are determined, from how long to complete a visual inspection to allowable minutes to lube a retract cylinder’s zerk fittings. As maintenance becomes more regimented, revisions to work card times are made.
Now let’s add a caveat: cameras are installed. “Oh no, don’t worry,” the Hangar manager assures you, “they’re just there to encourage safety and promote a healthy work environment.” Whether it is a Part 121, 135, or 145 Certificate Holder, they are within their legal rights to do this.
Cockpit cameras have nothing to do with union/non-union workplaces or management versus workforce issues; they are being recommended by safety ‘experts’. This is not something that air operators lobby for, but the benefits to them are enormous. Just like a recorder can be read anytime or removed for operational checks, a camera can be downloaded or uplinked, assuming a roll it was not designed for.
Safety ‘experts’ rarely rise from the ranks of aviation, rail, or marine; many are appointed lawyers or bureaucrats who know just enough industry jargon to be dangerous. They are incapable of considering their excellent ideas from both sides. What’s worse, they cannot possibly determine their inspiration’s effectiveness.
Where would a camera be located; behind the pilots? Their seatbacks block the view of everything but the pedestal. Mount it above the pilots? The faces, gauges and windscreen cannot be seen. Engineers must propose efficient designs; placing a camera where it captures the action without reengineering everything to accommodate the HAL lens. It has to be practical.
Extremely important: how will pilots’ decisions be affected? Adding visual surveillance introduces what is effectively a backseat driver. Anyone who has the had the pleasure of a father-/mother-in-law or even Uncle Nunzio commenting on your every move, understands the unnerving influence this has on a driver, causing mistakes, second guessing.
Most daunting thing about this tacit observer is the camera’s deafening silence. The HAL eye’s presence is an intimidating distraction; to divide a pilot’s attention, especially below 10,000 feet when concentration is critical, corrupts the safety-minded flight compartment environment that drove the cameras to begin with. Will pilots fear making choices, e.g. to burn more fuel to guarantee passenger comfort and safety or will the airline demand they save time instead? Will an inflight decision be overruled by a manager on the ground? If the captain makes an assessment contrary to management’s wishes, will they be called on the carpet, their videotape used against them?
Improving transportation safety is not difficult; indeed, many recent accidents trace back to ignoring decades old regulations, the refusal to learn from our mistakes of the past or both. And it does not require painting professionals into corners, crushing tribal knowledge in favor of technological wizardry. The key is to Stop … the amateur’s shooting from the hip; Think … about practical solutions that benefit the many and not the few; and Act … in the best interests of everyone in the industry.
Stephen Carbone is an avid writer of aviation fiction; his first novel Jet Blast has appealed to mechanics, pilots, air traffic controllers, etc. by giving accurate depictions of the accident investigation process. A former airline mechanic, he has been involved in many aspects of commercial aviation and went on to investigate major aviation accidents for the NTSB. A member of ISASI, Stephen holds a Masters degree in Systems Safety from ERAU. His weekly Blog can be found at: http://jetblast.tateauthor.com/
