Wednesday, January 08, 2003 — An Air Midwest commuter plane, operating as US Air Express, with 19 passengers and two crew members on board crashed during takeoff at 8:45 a.m into a hangar Wednesday at the Charlotte-Douglas International Airport in North Carolina.

I was in that hangar and it sure impressed me.

Commercial aircraft are relatively docile and easy to control. Modern glass cockpits have reduced cockpit activity to routine procedure. All activities are controlled by autopilot electronics and flight management computers. The old challenge of the “continuous control” needed to maintain course speed and altitude has been replaced by a fight against complacency, to maintain wakeful vigilance and attention to boring routine detail. Because of this the mistakes made at Lexington Blue Grass are as predictable as they are unbelievable.

At Blue Grass multiple failures must have occurred on many levels. Taxi directions are given in detail to the cockpit crew. The cockpit crew orally reads back the directions to confirm, and then orally reports to the tower when they are at the assigned runway ready for take off. The runway is identified by lighted signs with big bright red and white numbers. The runways are further identified by building sized numerals painted on the macadam just past the threshold. The heading indicator in the cockpit gives clear indication to both the pilot and co-pilot when the heading of the aircraft matches the heading of the runway, which corresponds to the runway number. No cockpit is without detailed maps of the taxiways for the subject airport. In addition to all of that, the person in the tower is (should be) looking at the airplane that he/she is clearing for takeoff. Yet look what happened at Blue Grass.

In actuality, “pilots” have gone the way of railroad firemen and flight engineers after them. They are not needed anymore. The planes almost fly themselves. What’s needed in the modern glass cockpit is a conservative mature person who can deal with the endless mindless tasks involved without becoming complacent. Not some hot shot ‘captain’ that spends his autopilot cruise time chatting it up with the flight attendants, but rather a mature professional that gives constant attention to course speed and altitude and is ever mindful of the next waypoint. One who can maintain constant vigilance, without becoming complacent. Someone who won’t get bored with the routine.

In the next few years there’s going to be a plethora of retired baby boomer professionals that will be looking for something constructive and interesting to do with their new available time. Retired professionals don’t become bored easily with mindless tasks. They are able to pay attention to routine detail for long periods and do not become complacent. They can follow procedures unquestioningly. They don’t take risks. They don’t excite easily. They don’t drink a lot and party late. Their skills and abilities are well suited to today’s glass cockpit environments. Many would be thrilled at the chance to fly commercial jet aircraft for free as volunteers! Airlines need only provide accommodations and meals while on travel. Indeed there would be enough volunteers that flight schedules would be light and unstressed.

Let’s face it. It is not that difficult to fly the big jets. Many of you reading this letter know exactly what I’m talking about. Retired professionals could be easily trained and type certified in a matter of days if not hours. The challenge of managing a glass cockpit is just not sufficient for young athletic fighter pilot types anymore. These are exactly the type of people who become bored with the routine and monotony of today’s glass cockpit environment and become complacent and therefore susceptible to the type of accident that occurred at Blue Grass. It is time to consider staffing the glass cockpits with retired professional volunteers rather than ‘career’ pilots. Pilots just aren’t needed anymore.

This morning, my wife asked me two pointed questions about Comair 5191:

Who's at fault here?

Answer: the pilots.

Shouldn't the tower tell them they're on the wrong runway?

Answer: Sure... if they even realize it. But what if the dim light of early morning and haze made the aircraft difficult to see? Once cleared for to the runway for takeoff, the responsibility for positional awareness lies with the pilot.

LEX is not a very busy airport. There may be only 2 contollers in that tower and their attention may be elsewhere. Even if the controllers did realize an error was being made, the aircraft would take the runway, accelerating immediately, eating up that too-short distance in little more that ten seconds - barely enough time to spit the words out, let alone have them received and acted on in the cockpit. In this case, it didn't matter what the crew did - the result would be the same. I still have a vivid memory of taxiing a 727 at typically busy Atlanta-Hartsfield many years ago on a bright, sunny day. I was cleared by the tower to cross the active runway 26L, only to glance to my right and see a Presidential Airlines 737(a post deregulation start-up long defunct and forgotten) about to land on the same runway - the wrong runway - that I was cleared to cross. He had been cleared to land on 26R. The pilots in the 737 and the mechanics in the 727 would all have made big mistakes, in broad daylight, had I crossed that runway. Everybody but the air traffic controller would have probably been dead.

I think this flight crew may have fallen victim to a trend that has become very common in the airline industry: blind adherence to procedures while overlooking obvious airworthiness issues. These unfortunate aviators probably followed their checklist procedures to the letter, yet managed to overlook being in the wrong place to begin the takeoff roll, just like the 737 landing on the wrong runway. This is a function of wisdom gained through experience: those wise in the ways of things instinctively grasp when it just doesn't add up, even though the checklist response says its OK. And the last time I checked, there was no spot on the pre-takeoff checklist for: "Are we on the correct runway?" It's supposed to be a "given," just like "Have you started both engines?" Sadly, I'll bet they began that fateful takeoff roll with the highest of confidence.

Small, pure jet aircraft where the best thing that ever happened to regional carriers (see the many pilots for major airlines who refuse to fly on propellor-driven commuters). Patrick Smith is absolutely correct when he states these aircraft are at least as advanced, and often more so, than their full-sized bretheren. He is also correct when he states commuter crews are "trained to adequate standards," but this is a literal and legal distinction only. Having spent my life in commercial aviation, I have always gotten the feeling when flying a commuter/regional that I am dealing with an amateur, low-time operation, in business only as a cost effective alternative to big airlines flying short routes at a loss... great comfort to their accountants, not so great to the flying public. From overhearing the discussions among the employees at the boarding gate, to observing the flight crew in action, I take comfort only in the fact that statistically, this operation probably will not kill me. I remain confident, though, my chances of surviving unscathed are somewhat higher with the far more experienced personnel of a major airline.