Tue Feb 12, 2019 9:48 am
It intrigues me that the bent of this conversation (and thinking in general) leans toward blame. If there's a mechanical problem on board, it must be bad maintenance. The mechanic must be at fault. Airplanes don't fail or crash if the mechanic has done his job. This is a fallacy. Every bit as much as the idea that there is so much redundancy in aircraft design that an error or a failure won't cause a problem. Or a mishap. Equally fallacious is the notion that fears of mechanical failure are unfounded. Of course such fear is valid.
Can the airplane break? You bet.
Over the course of my career, I've had engines catch fire, lose all the oil, fail to partial power, compressor stall, pour fuel, overspeed, or simply fail. I've had hydraulics rupture, actuator seals blow out, landing gear fail down, fail up, flaps blow up, bleed down, an aircraft filled with misted hydraulic fluid, smoke in the cockpit, onboard fires, pneumatic failures, two explosive depressurizations and another rapid one, ice failures controls, fuselage, and engines burned through with lightning, electrical fires and electrical failures, blown tires, brake failures, runaway trim and autopilots, failed instrumentation, total electrical failures, and cracked wings. Five aircraft that I've flown have had the wings crack completely through, and in two cases the wings separated from the aircraft, killing all aboard (I wasn't aboard at the time, quite clearly). These things to name a few on the tip of the ice berg.
Lest some idiot quip "remind me never to fly with you" as idiots are wont to do, these occurred in all kinds of aircraft and all kinds of operations over the course of many years, and are a few of the things I've experienced personally, but a drop in the bucket compared to the things I've seen in aviation, and those who would suggest that these are isolated or don't happen to aircraft they fly are either willfully blind or so foolishly naive as to have no credibility. This is the reality of things. Whether it's a 737 blowing its top or one exploding on the ramp due to tank vapor (or a 747, for that matter) or a gear collapse on a runway, these things can and do continue to happen. Aircraft are mechanical objects and they're complex, and often due to the fault of no one, they do break. We work hard to mitigate this, we maintain well, we fly carefully, but whether it's the collective stress of landings or pressure cycles or a stress riser in an unseen place (even from manufacture), parts, and assemblies of parts can and do fail. That's the reality. It is never a matter of if. It is always a matter of when.
The other reality is that the when doesn't occur often. The when occurs more often in some operations than others, in some types of equipment than others, and in some situations than others. It occurs less frequently in most airline operations than other areas.
Radial engines fail with some regularity. We don't use radial engines in the airlines. Engines that are used irregularly and inconsistently fail more often than those that are operated the same way and operated frequently, and airline operations are very standardized and constant, and maintenance occurs between almost every operation (for some airlines). Instruments and avionics that sit tend to experience far more failures than those that are used frequently, and airline operations use them constantly, and replace them immediately when a problem occurs.
Many aircraft get inspected once every 100 hours, some only once a year. Airline inspections are daily, weekly, and have large-scale, complex phase inspections that dismantle entire sections of the aircraft to examine every component. Every pilot that flies the aircraft writes up each discrepancy, after each flight, which is attended to by maintenance before the aircraft can fly the next flight. Airline operations fly to and from airfields with multiple instrument approach procedures, in nearly all cases accompanied by experienced controllers and excellent radar. Guidance is by satellite, internal gyro and solid state navigation, ground beacons, and radar services. Weather reporting is available in advance and is very good, in flight in real time, and by weather radar advanced enough to predict and warn of wind changes on an approach, and which can color code the amount of precipitation and activity 80 or 160 miles ahead of the aircraft, enabling avoidance and navigation around dangerous weather. Mechanics have access to tools, diagnostic and informational, far more advanced than what we once had, including aircraft that sense, sometimes diagnose, and present their problems, and systems that are modular and separated in some cases to isolate a problem and fix. Pilots have available the best simulation and training possible in the history of aviation, so that by the time a new pilot reaches the seat in the actual aircraft, he or she has already experienced and handled everything from onboard cargo fires to hydraulic, flap, and system failures, successfully, while graded and evaluated, instructed and trained, and has been the subject of tests, inspections, checkrides, and evaluations dozens or hundreds of times, and will continue to be throughout his or her career. That's the reality of climbing into an airliner today.
Yes, mechanical problems can occur. It really is possible to fly into volcanic ash and lose four engines; it's happened three times in the past. It really is possible to have an engine catastrophically fail and take out not one, but all three hydraulic systems, rendering all flight controls inoperative. It really is possible for the top third of a 737 to blow off the aircraft in flight. Or a 747 to explode. Or have a cargo fire. It happens, and has happened.
Airline operations move millions of passengers daily, operate thousands of hours, and span the globe, and are airborne around the clock. When we view these mishaps, these incidents, they do occur, but are so infrequent as to assure you that if it happens on your flight, it's your time and always was...but are so rare as to be experienced by few. There are many pilots who will go their careers, for example, and not experience but a fraction of this. Think of that; a pilot who dedicates his entire lifetime to. not just an occasional flight, but daily flight, and is exposed to flying at a rate many orders of magnitude over that of any passenger, and yet looks back without every having seen a hiccup. Indeed, most of the events I related above didn't happen on airline flights, but in other kinds of flying, many of which put the aircraft to considerably more hazard and stress than airline flying.
Are your fears valid. Absolutely. It does no good to suggest fear has no basis. It's like telling a child not to be afraid of the dark. It doesn't make the fear go away. You can tell me all day long that spiders are harmless. It won't help. You can tell me the hotel won't catch fire. It doesn't change the way I feel. And you can tell me that heights aren't a problem so long as I don't fall down. It doesn't matter. I'm fascinated by spiders but they paralyze me, I was caught in two burning buildings as a kid, and I've been in intensive care as the result of a fall. I don't care what the rational explanations are, and my pet kid fears will be the same fears in old age (the only difference being that as I get older, it matters less and less what happens to me). Your fears are valid, and they're your fears.
You can go on your flight, however, armed with the knowledge that while your fears are valid, and while nobody can talk you out of them, and while you're going to arrive at your destination safely and without incident, there's plenty to worry about, and worry you will. Don't let anyone talk you out of it. Those are your fears and you're entitled, and justified. Aircraft are complex; most have no concept of just how much there is that can go wrong on an aircraft. Big, thick stacks of books contain that information, and the books and manuals and diagrams and charts and guides and references and handbooks are incredibly complex and technical; so complex that they spell out the diameter and placement of every rivet in the aircraft, and they really do account for literally anything that can happen to or go wrong with that aircraft, as do the checklists and quick reference handbooks in the cockpit.
Try this. When I get in the door of an airplane, I'm full of trepidation; when I go out the door of the airplane into freefall (yes: I'm afraid of heights. This is true. But I also pick up spiders, fly into forest fires and jump out of airplanes. We face our fears to deal with them, rather than running away), there's nothing more I can do about height and I certainly can't prevent the fall at that point, as my decision was made when I left the airplane. I've made my choice, so I don't focus on height any more. When you get on board your next flight, you've made your choice. There's nothing you can do about the turbulence, or about a mechanical problem. Focus on watching the scenery out the window. Or reading a good book. Or watching the inflight movie.
I recommend Deadpool.