Archive for the ‘Authors’ Category

Dreams Deferred?

Wednesday, November 12th, 2014

If your heart is tied to aviation then you probably felt a little bit crushed, deflated, last month, when the aerospace world took one step forward, then two big steps back, all in one week.

Google executive Alan Eustace rose to, then fell from 135,000 feet on October 25, breaking a fairly recent record of just under 128,000 feet set by Felix Baumgartner in a much publicized Red Bull-sponsored stunt just a couple years ago. Eustace, unlike Baumgartner, performed his feat in relative obscurity. He told the press afterward that he wanted to make sure the gamble worked before publicizing it. What was unusual about the skydive was that Eustace used only a pressure suit and an 11 million cubic foot balloon to ascend—no fancy pressure capsule needed.

Eustace had clearly studied the Baumgartner jump, because he chose a different freefall position, and wore in his pressure suit a forced-heated-air system to keep his faceplate from fogging. The result was a much more stable five minute freefall to earth—one he could actually watch from inside his pressure suit. The gambit was a risk, and it worked out. One step forward.

On the other hand, just five days later Orbital Sciences had to destroy an Antares rocket and payload seconds after liftoff when one of the rocket’s venerable engines failed. The company had been purchasing the engines from Russian sources. Company CEO David Thompson told press that the company will find different engines for its rockets from now on.

Hot on the heels of this news came the inflight breakup of SpaceShipTwo, killing the co-pilot, Michael Tyner Alsbury, and injuring its pilot, Peter Siebold. The aircraft was in its final flight testing regime, and was expected to begin taking passengers into near-earth orbit sometime in 2015.

There is no question of that happening now. Richard Branson, CEO of Virgin Galactic, is clearly heartbroken and deeply concerned as the crash investigation progresses. The NTSB hints at possible causes, but I won’t be an armchair investigator and go into any details about an ongoing NTSB investigation here. The lay press are bad enough at that.

One step forward, two big steps back. The result is that the budding commercial space industry had a very bad month in October; and we are left with questions about the wisdom of how NASA contract monies are being spent; and even whether the dream of space tourism is a reasonable possibility, given today’s technology.

Personally? I want to see Branson shake it off and get back to the task of innovating, for the sake of humanity. Sure, those first flights are going to be little more than joyrides, but think of the possibilities that kind of technology may have for our future. Aerospace is about speed and altitude and moving people and materials as quickly and efficiently as possible. It always has been about that, at the core. Branson’s dream could jump us forward—something that hasn’t happened since the days of Concorde.

Or it could be a false path, as Concorde turned out to be. The thing is, we won’t know until we try. I hope he keeps trying until the universe finally grants him success.

Flying Cars

Thursday, November 6th, 2014

I’m a professional futurist and perhaps the most common question that I’ve received on radio interviews and after speeches is, “So where’s the flying cars? You futurists have been predicting that forever.”

First of all, that’s not true. There have been some science fiction folks, of course, that always had some variation of a car that flies, but I don’t know of any real futurist that “predicted” that we’d have flying cars at any particular time.

That said . . . they’re coming!

You can’t look across the breakthroughs that are happening in a variety of technological areas and at the same time notice the new crop of flying/driving machines that are soon to be sold and on the drawing boards, and not believe that something’s going on.  Change is in the wind and, like drones, there will be far more flying cars in the not very distant future.

I’ve covered a rather sexy planned flying car here in the past but thought you might like to see a couple that could be closer in.


Terrafugia, of course, is the biggest kid on the block, sporting a bunch of MIT graduates who have had a flying model of their initial Transition car/plane for about two years.  You can make a down payment, with delivery anticipated to be sometime soon.

Their ultimate objective is the TF-X, shown below. They had a mockup of this car/plane at Oshkosh this summer.  It’s a vertical takeoff and landing machine that is really quite extraordinary.

Here’s where you can see an animation of this rather cool vehicle.

Terrafugia TFx. Image courtesy of Terrafugia.

Terrafugia TFx. Image courtesy of Terrafugia.


From Slovakia comes the AeroMobil 3.0, one of the most futuristic looking entries in the flying car field.  It flies at 125 mph or more for 430 miles and can max out at over 100 mph on the ground and cover distances exceeding 500 miles.  The AeroMobil 3.0 is undergoing flight testing now (you can see a great video here).

AeroMobil 3.0. Photo courtesy of AeroMobil.

AeroMobil 3.0. Photo courtesy of AeroMobil.

AeroMobil 3.0. Photo courtesy of AeroMobil.

AeroMobil 3.0. Photo courtesy of AeroMobil.

A pretty cockpit for two. Photo courtesy of AeroMobil.

A pretty cockpit for two. Photo courtesy of AeroMobil.

Making an impression

Wednesday, November 5th, 2014

Whether we like it or not, pilots are perceived in the wider society as people who are special, smart, capable, with maybe just a hint of the heroic about us. They see us as risk takers. Of course the truth is somewhat more nuanced than that. Still, the fact that we are pilots makes an impression on people. An impression that can last for years. That makes the importance of the impression we make of real importance. If we leave a sense of professionalism and integrity, that’s good. If we come off as rebels who have no use for authority, that’s not so good.

Recently I got a reminder of this exact lesson from my own past.

A Facebook friend request came my way from a name I didn’t recognize. I took a look at the requester’s profile and found they live roughly 2,000 miles distant. Clearly, we don’t cross paths on Main Street, or in the grocery store. But the requester’s profile photo included an airplane. Because of that, I surmised the individual must be a pilot, possibly someone who read one of my columns or magazine articles, so I accepted the request from what I thought was a kindred spirit. Facebook, true to form, alerted this individual that I had accepted their request. We are now Facebook Friends.

Later in the day I found a message from my new connection that asked, are you the same Jamie Beckett who worked as a flight instructor in Meriden, Connecticut in 1992?

That question caught me by surprise. Responding in the affirmative, I hit the “send” button while harboring a considerable amount of curiosity. Within a few minutes the original question was given some much appreciated context. “You were my first flight instructor.”

Searching my logbooks later in the evening I found my new friend and I had flown together less than half a dozen times. I have no recollection of our flights, frankly. Perhaps they shifted to another instructor, or maybe they ran short of cash. It’s at least possible a work or family scheduling issue kept them from the airport. It doesn’t really matter what the reason might be for us having only a handful of lessons together. But apparently, the experience of flying made enough of an impression that my mystery student pursued it throughout the years, eventually fulfilling their goal and becoming a pilot.

What blows me away is that I remained in their memory for all these years. Twenty-two years to be exact. But then, perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised. I remember the instructors who made a significant impression on me during my time in flight school. Some of my fellow students have stayed in touch as well. Today we run the gamut, from corporate pilots to freight dogs to airline crewmembers, and me…the general aviation nut in the bunch. All these years later and we all still find each other to be good company, we are fascinated by the work we each do, and find a genuine interest in the stories we have to share and the adventures we’ve had along the way.

Somewhere along your path, you’ve made an impression on someone, too. Hopefully it was a good one. Knowing that we do indeed make a lasting impression now and then might make it a little easier for us to smile a little brighter, listen to our students, instructors, co-workers, passengers, and friends a little more closely, and perhaps go out of our way to be helpful and courteous more often.

I’ve always enjoyed hearing from one of my old students. I’m glad to know I helped them get somewhere they wanted to go in life. And now, I’ve gotten a great reminder of how deep and lasting the impression we make can be.

Man, I just flat out love this business. I hope you do, too.

Upset Recovery Training vs. Aerobatics

Tuesday, October 28th, 2014

Upset recovery training has been all the rage over the past couple of years. A Google search of that exact phrase returns more than 24,000 results. There’s a professional association dedicated to such training. ICAO even declared aircraft upsets to be the cause of “more fatalities in scheduled commercial operations than any other category of accidents over the last ten years.”

Nevertheless, I get the impression that some folks wonder if it isn’t more of a safety fad than an intrinsic imperative. It’s hard to blame them. You can hardly open a magazine or aviation newsletter these days without seeing slick advertisements for this stuff. When I was at recurrent training a couple of months ago, CAE was offering upset recovery training to corporate jet pilots there in Dallas. “If I wanted to fly aerobatics, I’d fly aerobatics!” one aviator groused.

He didn’t ask my opinion, but if he had, I’d remind him that 99% of pilots spend 99% of their time in straight and level flight — especially when the aircraft in question is a business jet. I’m not exaggerating much when I say that even your typical Skyhawk pilot is a virtual aerobat compared to the kind of flying we do on charter and corporate trips. For one thing, passengers pay the bills and they want the smoothest, most uneventful flight possible.

In addition, these jets fly at very high altitudes – typically in the mid-40s and even as high as 51,000 feet. Bank and pitch attitudes tend to stay within a narrow band. Yaw? There shouldn’t be any. The ball stays centered, period. We aim for a level of smoothness that exceeds even that of the airlines. Passengers and catering may move about the cabin frequently during a flight, but it shouldn’t be because of anything we’re doing up front.

Fly like that for a decade or two, logging thousands and thousands of uneventful, straight-and-level hours and the thought of all-attitude flying can become – to put it mildly – uncomfortable. I’ve even seen former fighter pilots become squeamish at the thought of high bank or pitch angles after twenty years of bizjet flying.

Unfortunately, there are a wide variety of things that can land a pilot in a thoroughly dangerous attitude: wind shear, wake turbulence, autopilot failure, mechanical malfunction (hydraulic hard-overs, asymmetric spoiler or flap deployment, etc.), inattention, and last but not least, plain old pilot error. Look at recent high-profile accidents and you’ll see some surprisingly basic flying blunders from the crew. Air France 447, Colgan 3407, and Asiana 214 are just three such examples. It may not happen often, but when it does it can bite hard.

So yes, I think there is a strong need for more manual flying exposure in general, and upset recovery training in particular. This isn’t specific to jet aircraft, because some light aircraft have surpassed their turbine-powered cousins in the avionics department. I only wish the 1980’s era FMS computer in my Gulfstream was as speedy as a modern G1000 installation.

Defining the Problem

To the best of my knowledge, neither the NTSB or FAA provide a standard definition for “upset”, but much like Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart, we pretty much know it when we see it. The term has generally come to be defined as a flight path or aircraft attitude deviating significantly from that which was intended by the pilot. Upsets have led to loss of control, aircraft damage or destruction, and more than a few fatalities.

As automation proliferates, pilots receive less hands-on experience and a gradual but significant reduction in stick-and-rudder skill begins to occur. The change is a subtle one, and that’s part of what makes it so hazardous. A recent report by the FAA PARC rulemaking workgroup cites poor stick and rudder skills as the number two risk factor facing pilots today. The simple fact is that windshear, wake turbulence, and automation failures happen.

The purpose of upset recovery training is to give pilots the tools and experience necessary to recognize and prevent impending loss of control situations. As the saying goes, an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure, and that’s why teaching recovery strategies from the most common upset scenarios is actually a secondary (though important) goal.

What about simulators? They’ve proven to be an excellent tool in pilot training, but even the most high fidelity Level D sims fall short when it comes to deep stalls and loss of control scenarios. For one thing, stall recovery is typically initiated at the first indication of stall, so the techniques taught in the simulator may not apply to a full aerodynamic stall. Due to the incredibly complex and unpredictable nature of post-stall aerodynamics, simulators aren’t usually programmed to accurately emulate an aircraft in a deeply stalled condition. Thus the need for in-aircraft experience to supplement simulator training.

Upset Recovery vs. Aerobatics

It’s important to note that upset recovery training may involve aerobatic maneuvering, but it does not exist to teach aerobatics. Periodically over the years, discussions on the merits of this training will cause a co-worker to broach the subject of flying an aerobatic maneuver in an airplane which is not designed and built for that purpose. This happened just the other day. Typically they’ll ask me if, as an aerobatic pilot, I would ever consider performing a barrel or aileron roll in the aircraft.

I used to just give them the short answer: “no”. But over time I’ve started explaining why I think it’s such a bad idea, even for those of us who are trained to fly such maneuvers. I won’t touch on the regulations, because I think we are all familiar with those. I’m just talking about practical considerations.

Normal planes tend to have non-symmetrical airfoils which were not designed to fly aerobatics. They feature slower roll rates, lower structural integrity under high G loads, and considerably less control authority. You might have noticed that the control surfaces on aerobatic airplanes are pretty large — they are designed that way because they’re needed to get safely into and out of aerobatic maneuvers.

That’s not to say an airplane with small control surfaces like a business jet or light GA single cannot perform aerobatics without disaster striking. Clay Lacy flies an airshow sequence in his Learjet. Duane Cole flew a Bonanza. Bob Hoover used a Shrike Commander. Sean Tucker flew an acro sequence in a Columbia (now known as the Cessna TTx). However, the margins are lower, the aerobatics are far more difficult, and pilots not experienced and prepared enough for those things are much more likely to end up hurt or dead.

Sean Tucker will tell you that the Columbia may not recover from spins of more than one or two turns. Duane Cole said the Bonanza (in which he did inverted ribbon cuts) had barely enough elevator authority for the maneuver, and it required incredible strength to hold the nose up far enough for inverted level flight. Bob Hoover tailored his performance to maneuvers the Shrike could do — he’ll tell you he avoided some aerobatic maneuvers because of the airplane’s limitations.

Knowing those limitations and how to deal with them — that’s where being an experienced professional aerobatic pilot makes the difference. And I’m sure none of those guys took flying those GA airplanes upside down lightly. A lot of planning, consideration, training and practice went into their performances.

Now, consider the aircraft condition. Any negative Gs and stuff will be flying around the cabin. Dirt from the carpet. Manuals. Items from the cargo area. Floor mats. Passengers. EFBs. Drinks. Anything in the armrest or sidewall pockets. That could be a little distracting. Items could get lodged behind the rudder pedals, hit you in the head, or worse.

If the belts aren’t tight enough, your posterior will quickly separate from the seat it’s normally attached to. And I assure you, your belts are not tight enough. Getting them that way involves cinching the lap belt down until it literally hurts. How many people fly a standard or transport category aircraft that way?

Now consider that the engine is not set up for fuel and oil flow under negative Gs. Even in airplanes specifically designed for acro, the G loads move the entire engine on the engine mount. In the Decathlon you can always see the spinner move up an inch or two when pushing a few negative Gs. Who knows what that would do with the tighter clearances between the fan and engine cowl on an airplane like the Gulfstream?

Next, let’s consider trim. The jet flies around with an electric trim system which doesn’t move all that quickly. The aircraft are typically trimmed for upright flight. That trim setting works heavily against you when inverted, and might easily reach the point where even full control deflection wouldn’t be sufficient.

I could go on, but suffice it to say that the more I learn about aerobatics, the less I would want to do them in a non-aerobatic aircraft – and certainly not a swept wing jet! Sure, if performed perfectly, you might be just fine. But any unusual attitude is going to be far more difficult — if not outright impossible — to recover from.

Dang it, Tex!

Every time someone references Tex Johnson’s famous barrel roll in the Boeing 707 prototype, I can’t help but wish he hadn’t done that. Yes, it helped sell an airplane the company had staked it’s entire future on, but aerobatic instructors have been paying the price ever since.

Aerobatic and upset recovery training: good. Experimenting with normal category airplanes: bad. Very bad.

Carbon Monoxide, Silent Killer

Monday, October 20th, 2014

Danger, Carbon Monoxide
On January 17, 1997, a Piper Dakota departed Farmingdale, New York, on a planned two-hour VFR flight to Saranac Lake, New York. The pilot was experienced and instrument-rated; his 71-year-old mother, a low-time private pilot, occupied the right seat. Just over a half-hour into the flight, Boston Center got an emergency radio call from the mother, saying that the pilot (her son) had passed out.

The controller attempted a flight assist, and an Air National Guard helicopter joined up with the aircraft and participated in the talk-down attempt. Ultimately, however, the pilot’s mother also passed out.

The aircraft climbed into the clouds, apparently on autopilot, and continued to be tracked by ATC. About two hours into the flight, the airplane descended rapidly out of the clouds and crashed into the woods near Lake Winnipesaukee, New Hampshire. Both occupants died.

Toxicological tests revealed that the pilot’s blood had a CO saturation of 43% — sufficient to produce convulsions and coma—and his mother’s was 69%.

On December 6 that same year, a physician was piloting his Piper Comanche 400 from his hometown of Hoisington, Kansas, to Topeka when he fell asleep at the controls. The airplane continued on course under autopilot control for 250 miles until it ran a tank dry and (still on autopilot) glided miraculously to a soft wings-level crash-landingin a hay field near Cairo, Missouri.

The pilot was only slightly injured, and walked to a nearby farmhouse for help. Toxicology tests on a blood sample taken from the lucky doc hours later revealed CO saturation of 27%. It was almost certainly higher at the time of the crash.

Just a few days later, a new 1997 Cessna 182S was being ferried from the Cessna factory in Independence, Kansas, to a buyer in Germany when the ferry pilot felt ill and suspected carbon monoxide poisoning. She landed successfully and examination of the muffler revealed that it had been manufactured with defective welds. Subsequent pressure tests by Cessna of new Cessna 172 and 182 mufflers in inventory revealed that 20% of them had leaky welds. The FAA issued an emergency Airworthiness Directive (AD 98-02-05) requiring muffler replacement on some 300 new Cessna 172s and182s.

About 18 months later, the FAA issued AD 99-11-07 against brand new air-conditioned Mooney M20R Ovations when dangerous levels of CO were found in their cabins.

Sidebar: CO Primer

Click on image above for high-resolution printable version.

Not just in winter

A search of the NTSB accident database suggests that CO-related accidents and incidents occur far more frequently than most pilots believe. Counterintuitively, these aren’t confined to winter-time flying with the cabin heat on. Look at the months during which the following accidents and incidents occurred during the 15-year period from 1983 to 1997:

March 1983. The Piper PA-22-150 N1841P departed Tucumcari, N.M. After leveling at 9,600, the right front seat passenger became nauseous, vomited, and fell asleep. The pilot began feeling sleepy and passed out. A 15-year-old passenger in the back seat took control of the aircraft by reaching between the seats, but the aircraft hit a fence during the emergency landing. None of the four occupants were injured. Multiple exhaust cracks and leaks were found in the muffler. The NTSB determined the probable cause of the accident to be incapacitation of the PIC from carbon monoxide poisoning. [FTW83LA156]

February 1984. The pilot of Beech Musketeer N6141N with four aboard reported that he was unsure of his position. ATC identified the aircraft and issued radar vectors toward Ocean Isle, N.C. Subsequently, a female passenger radioed that the pilot was unconscious. The aircraft crashed in a steep nose-down attitude, killing all occupants. Toxicological tests of the four victims revealed caboxyhemoglobin levels of 24%, 22%, 35% and 44%. [ATL84FA090]

November 1988. The Cessna 185 N20752 bounced several times while landing at Deadhorse, Alaska. The pilot collapsed shortly after getting out of the airplane. Blood samples taken from the pilot three hours after landing contained 22.1% carboxyhemoglobin. The left engine muffler overboard tube was broken loose from the muffler where the two are welded. The NTSB determined probable cause to be physical impairment of the pilot-in-command due to carbon monoxide poisoning. [ANC89IA019]

July 1990. While on a local flight, the homebuilt Olsen Pursuit N23GG crashed about three-tenths of a mile short of Runway 4 at Fowler, Colo. No one witnessed the crash, but post-crash investigation indicated that there was no apparent forward movement of the aircraft after its initial impact. The aircraft burned, and both occupants died. Toxicology tests of the pilot and passenger were positive for carboxyhemoglobin. [DEN90DTE04]

August 1990. About fifteen minutes into the local night flight in Cessna 150 N741MF, the aircraft crashed into Lake Michigan about one mile from the shoreline near Holland, Mich. Autopsies were negative for drowning, but toxicological tests were positive for carboxyhemoglobin, with the pilot’s blood testing at 21%. [CHI90DEM08]

July 1991. The student pilot and a passenger (!) were on a pleasure flight in Champion 7AC N3006E owned by the pilot. The aircraft was seen to turn into a valley in an area of mountainous terrain, where it subsequently collided with the ground near Burns, Ore., killing both occupants. A toxicology exam of the pilot’s blood showed a saturation of 20% carboxyhemoglobin, sufficient to cause headache, confusion, dizziness and visual disturbance. [SEA91FA156]

October 1992. The pilot of Cessna 150 N6402S was in radio contact with the control tower at Mt. Gilead, Ohio, and in a descent from 5,000 feet to 2,000 feet in preparation for landing. Radar contact was lost, and the aircraft crashed into a wooded area, seriously injuring the pilot. Toxicological tests on the pilot’s blood were positive for carbon monoxide. Examination of the left muffler revealed three cracks and progressive deterioration. The NTSB found probable cause of the accident to be pilot incapacitation due to carbon monoxide poisoning. [NYC93LA031]

April 1994. Fifteen minutes after takeoff from Long Beach, Calif., the Cessna 182 N9124G began deviating from headings, altitudes and ATC instructions. The aircraft did several 360- and 180-degree turns. The pilot reported blurred vision, headaches, nausea, labored breathing, and difficulty staying awake. The aircraft ultimately crashed in a vineyard near Kerman, Calif., and the owner/pilot was seriously injured. Post-crash inspection revealed numerous small leaks in the exhaust system. The pilot tested positive for carbon monoxide even after 11 hours of oxygen therapy. [LAX94LA184]

October 1994. A student pilot returned to Chesterfield, Mo., from a solo cross-country flight in Cessna 150 N7XC, complaining of headache, nausea, and difficulty walking. The pilot was hospitalized, and medical tests revealed elevated CO which required five and a half hours breathing 100% oxygen to reduce to normal levels. Post-flight inspection revealed a crack in an improperly repaired muffler that had been installed 18 hours earlier. [CHI95IA030]

March 1996. The pilot of Piper Cherokee 140 N95394 stated that she and her passenger became incapacitated after takeoff from Pittsburg, Kan. The airplane impacted the terrain, but the occupants were uninjured. Both were hospitalized, and toxicological tests for carbon monoxide were positive. A subsequent examination found holes in the muffler. [CHI96LA101]

August 1996. A Mankovich Revenge racer N7037J was #2 in a four-airplane ferry formation of Formula V Class racing airplanes. The #3 pilot said that the #2 pilot’s flying was erratic during the flight. The airplane crashed near Jeffersonville, Ind., killing the pilot. The results of FAA toxicology tests of the pilot’s blood revealed a 41% saturation of carboxyhemoglobin; loss of consciousness is attained at approximately 30%. Examination of the wreckage revealed that the adhesive resin that bound the rubber stripping forming the firewall lower seal was missing. The NTSB determined probable cause of the accident to be pilot incapacitation due to carbon monoxide poisoning. [CHI96FA322]

January 1997. The fatal crash of Piper Dakota N8263Y near Lake Winnipesaukee, N.H. (described previously). [IAD97FA043]

December 1997. Non-fatal crash of Piper Comanche 400 N8452P flying from Hoisington to Topeka, Kansas (described previously). [CHI98LA055]

December 1997. A new Cessna 182S was being ferried from the factory in Independence, Kan., to a buyer in Germany when the ferry pilot felt ill and suspected carbon monoxide poisoning (described previously). [Priority Letter AD 98-02-05]

Overall, deaths from unintentional carbon monoxide poisoning have dropped sharply since the mid-1970s thanks mainly to lower CO emissions from automobiles with catalytic converters (most CO deaths are motor vehicle-related) and safer heating and cooking appliances. But CO-related airplane accidents and incidents haven’t followed this trend. The ADs issued against Independence-built Cessna 172s and 182s and Mooney Ovations demonstrates that even brand new airplanes aren’t immune.

CO Checklist

Click on image above for high-resolution printable version.

Close calls

In addition to these events in the NTSB accident database where CO poisoning was clearly implicated, there were almost certainly scores of accidents, incidents, and close calls where CO was probably a factor.

In January 1999, for example, a Cessna 206 operated by the U.S. Customs Service was on a night training mission when it inexplicably crashed into Biscayne Bay a few miles off the south Florida coast. The experienced pilot survived the crash, but had no recollection of what happened. The NTSB called it simple pilot error and never mentioned CO as a possible contributing factor. However, enough carboxyhemoglobin was found in the pilot’s blood that the Customs Service suspected that CO poisoning might have been involved.

The agency purchased sensitive industrial electronic CO detectors for every single-engine Cessna in its fleet, and discovered that many of the planes had CO-in-the-cockpit problems. On-board CO detectors and CO checks during maintenance inspections have been standard operating procedure for the Customs Service ever since.

How much CO is too much?

It depends on whom you ask.

EPA calls for a health hazard alert when the outdoor concentration of CO rises above 9 parts per million (ppm) for eight hours, or above 35ppm for one hour. OSHA originally established a maximum safe limit for exposure to CO in the workplace of 35 ppm, but later raised it to 50 ppm under pressure from industry.

The FAA requires that CO in the cabin not exceed 50 ppm during certification testing of new GA airplanes certified under FAR Part 23 (e.g. Cessna Corvallis, Cirrus SR22, Diamond DA-40). Legacy aircraft certified under older CAR 3 regs required no CO testing at all during certification.

Once certified, FAA requires no CO testing of individual aircraft by the factory, and no follow-up retesting during annual inspections. A March 2010 FAA SAIB (CE-10-19 R1) recommends checking CO levels with a hand-held electronic CO detector during ground runups at each annual and 100-hour inspection, but in my experience very few shops and mechanics do this.

UL-approved residential CO detectors are not permitted to alarm until the concentration rises to 70 ppm and stays there for four hours. (This was demanded by firefighters and utility companies to reduce the incidence of nuisance calls from homeowners.) Yet most fire departments require that firefighters put on their oxygen masks immediately when CO levels reach 25 ppm or higher.

It’s important to understand that low concentrations of CO are far more hazardous to pilots than to non-pilots. That’s because the effects of altitude hypoxia and CO poisoning are cumulative. For example, a COHb saturation of 10% (which is about what you’d get from chain-smoking cigarettes) would probably not be noticeable to someone on the ground. But at 10,000 feet, it could seriously degrade your night vision, judgment, and possibly cause a splitting headache.

After studying this hazard for many years and consulting with world-class aeromedical experts, I have come to the following conclusions:

  1. Every single-engine piston aircraft should carry a sensitive electronic CO detector.
  2. Any in-flight CO concentration above 10 ppm should be brought to the attention of an A&P for troubleshooting and resolution.
  3. Any in-flight CO concentration above 35 ppm should be grounds for going on supplemental oxygen (if available) and making a precautionary landing as soon as practicable.

Smokers are far more vulnerable to both altitude hypoxia and CO poisoning, since they’re already in a partially poisoned state when they first get into the aircraft. Because of COHb’s long half-life, you’d do well to abstain from smoking for 8 to 12 hours prior to flight.

Choosing a CO detector

Five CO detectors

Five CO detectors (left to right): chemical spot, UL-compliant residential (Kidde), non-UL-compliant (CO Experts 2015), industrial (BW Honeywell), TSO’d panel-mounted (CO Guardian 551).

Chemical spot detectors:Stay away from those ubiquitous el-cheapo adhesive-backed cardboard chemical spot detectors that are commonly sold by pilot shops and mail-order outfits for under trade names like “Dead Stop,” “Heads Up” and “Quantum Eye.” They have a very short useful life (about 30 days), and are extremely vulnerable to contamination from aromatic cleaners, solvents and other chemicals routinely used in aircraft maintenance.

These things often remain stuck on the instrument panel for years, providing a dangerous false sense of security. What’s worse, there’s no warning that the detector is outdated or has been contaminated—in some ways, that’s worse than not having a detector at all.

Even when fresh, chemical spot detectors are incapable of detecting low levels of CO. They’ll start turning color at 100ppm, but so slowly and subtly that you’ll never notice it. For all practical purposes, you’ll get no warning until concentrations rise to the 200 to 400 ppm range, by which time you’re likely to be too impaired to notice the color change.

Residential electronic detectors:Although battery-powered residential electronic detectors are vastly superior to those worthless chemical spots, most are designed to be compliant with Underwriter’s Laboratory specification UL-2034 (revised 1998). This spec requires that

(1)   The digital readout must not display any CO concentration less than 30 ppm.

(2)   The alarm will not sound until CO reaches 70 ppm and remains at or above that level for four hours.

(3)   Even at a concentration of 400 ppm, it may take as much as 15 minutes before the alarm sounds.

For aircraft use, you really want something much more sensitive and fast-acting. I like the non-UL-compliant CO Experts Model 2015 ($199 from It displays CO concentrations as low as 7 ppm and provides a loud audible alarm at concentrations above 25 ppm. It updates its display every 10 seconds (compared to once a minute for most residential detectors), which makes it quite useful as a “sniffer” for trying to figure out exactly where CO is entering the cabin.

Industrial electronic detectors:Industrial CO detectors cost between $400 and $1,000. A good choice for in-cockpit use is the BW Honeywell GasAlert Extreme CO  ($410 from This unit displays CO concentrations from 0 to 1,000 ppm on its digital display, has a very loud audible alarm with dual trigger levels (35 and 200 ppm).

Purpose-built aviation electronic detectors:Tucson-based CO Guardian LLC makes a family of TSO’d panel-mount electronic CO detectors specifically designed for cockpit use. These detectors detect and alarm at 50 ppm (after 10 minutes), or 70 ppm (after 5 minutes), and will alarm instantly if concentrations rise to 400 ppm. The digital display models ($599 and up) will show concentrations as low as 10 ppm. Available from Obviously, panel-mount detectors cannot be used as a sniffer to locate the source of a CO leak.

For more information…

There is an outstanding October 2009 research paper titled “Detection and Prevention of Carbon Monoxide Exposure in General Aviation Aircraft” authored by Wichita State University under sponsorship of the FAA Office of Research and Technology Development. The paper is 111 pages long, and discusses (among other things):

  • Characteristics of CO-related GA accidents
  • Evaluation of CO detectors, including specific makes and models
  • Placement of CO detectors in the cabin
  • Exhaust system maintenance and inspection

This research paper is available online at:

Another Successful Flight of Haywire Airlines…Fly it Forward!

Saturday, October 18th, 2014
Haywire Airlines Captain and First Officer

Haywire Airlines Captain and First Officer


I was an airport kid. As a family we attended airport days. Heck I even learned to drive a car, at an airport. We flew a lot, in state, and out to visit relatives. Most times as we taxied or parked my father would exclaim, “Another successful flight of Haywire Airlines!” That would always make me laugh and today makes me smile.

My father, now 92, is the one who inspired me to become a pilot. But I didn’t get the bug right away or even as a young person. In 2002, I was visiting our hometown for a family reunion and it was airport day. My Dad landed in his Mooney. My brother landed in his V-tail Bonanza. I thought “What is wrong with this picture?” that was in July and I had my license in September.

My Dad made flying look easy.  He was a primary trainer in WWII at Rankin Field in Tulare, CA. He tells great stories of antics with Tex Rankin and Sammy Mason. During his time at Rankin he met my Mom on a blind date, then took her for a ride in the Stearman. He said she liked the flight and he knew that she was going to be a great mate.  64 years later they were still in love, when she flew West.

So thanks to my Dad, I am a pilot. I try to Fly It Forward to kids and adults alike. Mid-October brings cool, crisp flying weather and a close to the busy airport day and air show season for me. Recently I took an opportunity to re-read some posts from an AOPA Red Board thread I began in 2012 about who inspired us to become pilots. This quote on mentoring by Benjamin Franklin sums this concept up nicely: “Tell me and I forget, teach me and I may remember, involve me and I learn.” My hope is that as we reflect on those who mentored us that we might take up the mantle and Fly it Forward for another. Enjoy the stories, perhaps put your own in the comment section, and better than that, be someone else’s inspiration.


When I was growing up, my dad was a controller at a Class D airport- Camarillo, CA. I hung out there a lot when I was 11-15 years old, and knew the make and model of planes by sight. One day when I was 12, a pilot offered rides to the controllers, and my dad talked him into taking up our family. I got to the airport and there was a beautiful yellow PT-17 Stearman, done in the Navy trainer scheme. I waited anxiously for my turn to go up- watching him take off and land from the base of the tower with my other family members. Finally, it was my turn.

The ride was unbelievable! Wearing a leather cap, we flew around Saticoy and over by Santa Paula. Early on in the flight, he showed me how to control the plane with the control stick, and let me fly just about everywhere! I was speechless during the whole flight! When we were back on the ground, I looked up at him and offered him the $6 I had in my pocket for gas. I looked at him like he was a god. He just smiled, put his hand on my shoulder and said, “Keep your money, but if you ever have the chance to pass this along, do it.” To this day, I still do!

I’ve been fascinated, even obsessed, with aviation my entire life, but never got around to becoming a pilot. In 2001 at the Watsonville (WVI) airshow, I went for a flight in CAF’s B-17 “Sentimental Journey”.

After the flight, I was talking with the pilot, last name Kimmel. I told him that I had wanted to be a pilot forever but hadn’t gone ahead and started taking lessons. Kimmel grabbed me by the shoulders and said, “What are you waiting for? Get off your butt and do it!” Two days later I was back at WVI taking my first lesson.


I grew up in a very poor family and area and no one I knew had any interest in aviation. I can remember times when there was no money and very little food to eat even though my father worked hard. Because we had nothing as kids we dreamed of things we would one day do. One summer day when I was four years old I was lying on my back in the shade of a tree just looking up at all the big fluffy white clouds sailing across the sky, and then I heard a noise coming closer. Out of the clouds came a beautiful 4-engine airplane and having never seen one I had no idea what it was but it was huge! It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, and it was just dancing in and out of the clouds. And right then and there my dream of one day flying an amazing machine like the bomber I had seen was born. That was in 1961 and when I announced that evening to my family that I was one day going to be a pilot, you can guess the reaction. Sitting at the dinner table eating corned beef hash because potatoes were about the only thing we could afford, I was laughed at by my brothers and sister, and mom said she hoped I would one day be rich and I could fly her all around the world. Dad told me that a man has to have a dream to work toward and that was a grand one.

The years rolled by and every time I heard an airplane I would look up and dream. Finally I graduated high school and 6 weeks later I married my high school sweetheart and I was due to leave for boot camp in 60 days. During this time I flew for the first time, it was on the day of my first lesson. It was everything I ever dreamed of in an old 172 and I was in love. As so often happens life soon got in the way and I stopped taking lessons after about 8 hours. Off to boot camp and later we built our own home. Some more years went by and finally my wife told me that I should go back to flying since I loved it so much. What a wonderful wife. I started taking lessons again but with a different instructor and he was amazing. When I was ready to quit because I could not learn to land he kept encouraging me and let me continue to beat up his airplane. Never once did he get upset and believe me he had good reason. He has the patience of a saint. After many hours and many bad landings I finally got it. I went for my check ride in 1985 and I passed!


I was 14, my cousin was an instructor, and got my parents’ permission to fly me from Meadowlark airport in Huntington Beach (where she was teaching) to Reno. It was a T210 (N732WF), and she was checking out a new pilot in this plane. I sat in the back seat. I don’t remember much about the flight, but I do recall going through some clouds shortly before landing, and she turned around and asked me if I saw the landing gear down. I didn’t know it was a retract, and I was concerned that she was concerned that we might not see a wheel out there! It was a little rough during the approach and she was convinced I’d never get in another airplane as long as I lived! The truth was, I actually thought, “This is SO COOL! I’m gonna be a pilot in TEN YEARS!”
The next summer, I spent a few more weeks in the Reno area. She took me for a ride in a Mooney (N201DK), and this time I got to sit in the right seat. I got to fly over Lake Tahoe and got a real taste for it. This time, I updated my goal: “In FIVE YEARS, I’m gonna be a pilot!” She gave me the best piece of advice a 15-year-old kid could get: Just identify your goal, eliminate the obstacles, and all that’s left is success!

Just over one year later, and two days after my 17th birthday, I earned my PPL. That was many years ago, and I’m now a 737 Captain for a major airline, and she’s an inspector supervisor with the FAA. We haven’t flown together since then, but I do try to Fly it Forward through Young Eagles 20-some kids last year, and 40-ish this year. I sit right seat in my 182 for those flights, and put the kids in the pilot seat. I enjoy it, but they LOVE it, and if even one of those kids decides to take it further, it’ll have been worth it.

High Flight

High Flight

Nearly Empty Skies

Tuesday, October 14th, 2014

This morning I heard an airplane take off. It was a throaty roar of a single engine piston airplane, and though I didn’t see it, I’d swear it was a Cessna 182. It was a wonderful noise. It was a noise I associate with home.

You see, I’ve been traveling on the Iberian Peninsula for a month, and in that time I saw or heard general aviation aircraft less than a half a dozen times. It was the oddest sensation, asking locals if there was an airport in the area for small aircraft, and seeing faces draw a complete blank. The question wasn’t being lost in translation. The small airports are so quiet these days that the people had no real experience with light aircraft.

I’d researched general aviation in Portugal and Spain before I left the U.S., and had high hopes of encountering at least some aeroclub flying, similar to what I had found traveling in South Africa, but it was not to be. Even the flight training going on in the countries seemed anemic in comparison to the activity here in the U.S. Sad, too, because in both countries the GA airports were there. They were just seriously under utilized.

In Spain the complaint is that handling fees, a combination of security restrictions and onerous, unnecessary services (bus rides on the ramp to and from the general aviation terminal) are strangling general aviation pilots. Even though mandated tariffs are relatively inexpensive, the companies providing the services are padding these fees so much that, according to AOPA Spain, they approach the cost of operating the airplane for the cross country flight.

The most aviation I saw over the course of a month traveling the peninsula north to south, was in the little town of Evora, where Skydive Portugal had a Cessna 206 running all day one Saturday, taking neophytes up for tandem jumps. It was great to watch the airplane head off, climbing to 13,00o MSL, and then disgorging its load. There is nothing quite like the snap and swoosh of a chute opening above you, followed by the hoots and laughter of the tandem riders, who seemed unanimoScreen shot 2014-10-10 at 4.48.04 PMusly thrilled both by the freefall and by the fact that the chute opened on command. They’d live to jump another day!

But other than the Cessna 206 hauling skydivers there was just one or two general aviation movements on the field over the four days I was there. This, even though Embraer has a large, modern metal and composite factory just off the north end of the runway, where it is making parts for its Legacy 450/500 aircraft, along with parts for military aircraft.

I have to admit that it made me sad to see so few aircraft flying in two countries where the weather and the terrain is perfect for general aviation. It seems that onerous fees, combined with struggling economic trials have put serious challenges to pilots in Portugal and Spain.

My hope is that they can overcome the trials and re-emerge as great countries for general aviation flying in Europe. That way, the next time I visit, I can see the Iberian Peninsula the way I most enjoy, from the air.


Liability: The Price We Pay

Wednesday, October 1st, 2014

As large as the aviation industry looks to those on the outside, once you’re on the other side of the fence, it doesn’t take long to realize that it’s a very small world. One of the big challenges facing that world has been from product liability issues.

The $100 screw. The $9.00 gallon of fuel. The $5,000 part that costs $50 at a local hardware store. We’ve all seen it. I recall the day a friend told me the seat back for my Pitts S-2B, which is literally a small flat piece of ordinary plywood, cost something like $600. I’m not averse to parts manufacturers turning a profit, but that left my mouth hanging open. My friend? He just shrugged and walked away, as though this was ordinary and normal. The saddest part is that I realized he was right. It is.

Liability concerns are a major expense and motivator for many industries. That’s why Superman costumes come with warnings that “the cape does not enable the wearer to fly”, Zippo cautions the user not to ignite the lighter in your face, and irons are sold with tags advising against ironing clothes while they’re being worn. But for general aviation, this sort of thing is dragging the lot of us down as surely as a cement block tossed into the murky waters of the East River.

The classic example of this phenomenon can be seen in the high cost for new products like airplanes. Look at the sharp rise in the price of a new Skyhawk over the past thirty years. The first one was built in 1955, so the research and development costs for this model must have been recouped decades ago. A new Bonanza is a cool million. Low production volumes and high liability costs — a chicken and egg pair if there ever was one — are prime culprits for that inflation.

In fact, for about a decade, the general aviation industry essentially stopped producing new piston airplanes. From the mid-80s to the mid-90s, product liability was such that nearly every major OEM exited the business. The insurance costs rose, the manufacturers had no choice but to pass that on to the consumer, who was summarily priced out of the market. Sales fell, per-unit liability costs rose further, and the cycle spiraled downward until even those companies which still had an operating production line were only turning out a handful of airplanes per year.

The General Aviation Revitalization Act of 1994 helped somewhat. Aircraft manufacturers started producing planes again. The Cirrus, DiamondStar, Columbia, and other such advanced aircraft were brought to market. New avionics systems were developed. But the liability problem never went away. Frivolous lawsuits still abound, grinding away at our diminished world like a wood chipper consuming a sturdy log. Manufacturers have been sued for things as idiotic as not telling a pilot that the engine wouldn’t operate without fuel. I don’t have to tell you how this lunacy looks to people from other countries, do I?

I often wonder, what would an aircraft like the RV-6 cost if it was certified? You can buy one for as little as $45,000 today. Speaking of Amateur-Built aircraft, liability is one of the primary reasons advancements such as electronic ignition proliferate in the E-AB world when they’re almost unheard of in aircraft with a standard airworthiness certificate.

Mike Busch has penned many articles about the ways liability concerns drive decisions in the maintenance business. The result? Lower efficiency, higher cost, and at times even a decrease in the level of safety that is supposedly paramount. But it goes beyond that. Many products which would otherwise be brought to market are not because liability issues tilt the scale away from taking that risk in the first place.

Even proven, well-established products are sometimes lost to this phenomenon. Seven years ago, the largest manufacturer of aircraft carburetors, Precision Airmotive, abruptly decided to stop making, selling, and supporting them. In a letter to customers on their web site, they wrote:

Precision Airmotive LLC has discontinued sales of all float carburetors and component parts as of November 1, 2007. This unfortunate situation is a result of our inability to obtain product liability insurance for the product line. Precision Airmotive LLC and its 43 employees currently manufacture and support the float carburetors used in nearly all carbureted general aviation aircraft flying today. Precision has been the manufacturers of these carburetors since 1990. These FAA-approved carburetors were designed as early as the 1930s and continue to fly over a million flight hours a year. After decades of service, the reliability of these carburetors speaks for itself.

Nonetheless, Precision has seen its liability insurance premiums rise dramatically, to the point that the premium now exceeds the total sales dollars for this entire product line. In the past, we have absorbed that cost, with the hope that the aviation industry as a whole would be able to help address this issue faced by Precision Airmotive, as well as many other small aviation companies. Our efforts have been unsuccessful.

This year, despite the decades of reliable service and despite the design approval by the Federal Aviation Administration, Precision Airmotive has been unable to obtain product liability insurance for the carburetor product line. While we firmly believe that the product is safe, as does the FAA, and well-supported by dedicated people both at Precision and at our independent product support centers, unfortunately the litigation costs for defending the carburetor in court are unsustainable for a small business such as Precision.

Even if you don’t own an airplane, you’ve probably noticed that aircraft rental is prohibitively difficult and expensive. Companies like OpenAirplane are trying to make a dent in this formidable problem, but many aircraft types simply cannot be rented at all for solo flight anymore. Seaplanes, aerobatic aircraft, twins, turbines, and many other types might as well not exist unless you have the cash to buy them outright. And those that are still rented require extensive checkouts, form filling, and a large expenditure of time, money and energy. Why? To check every possible box off when it comes to liability. The manager of one FBO here in Southern California told me in no uncertain terms that it wouldn’t matter if Bob Hoover himself walked through the door, he wouldn’t get one iota of consideration in that regard. Does that sound right to you?

There’s an obvious answer here. If you’re thinking tort reform, you’re only half-right. Suing manufacturers for accidents that are clearly not their fault simply because the plaintiff knows they’ll settle is only ensuring the next generation won’t be able to fly. The real solution is to — in the words of a pilot I know — put on our big-boy britches and come to terms with the fact that life in general, and aviation in particular, involves risk. From the Doolittle Raiders to the folks at Cirrus Aircraft, history shows over and over again that risk is a part of every successful venture. We’d all love to live in a world where there is no risk, where following the dictates of Title 14 would ensure nothing ever goes wrong and nobody ever gets hurt. It’s a fallacy.

Crushing liability costs aren’t limited to carbs. And many parts of our airplanes are manufactured by a very small number of companies. Prop governors come to mind. Vacuum pumps. Brakes. Fasteners. If one firm is having trouble staying in business, odds are the others might be as well. It doesn’t portend a rosy future for the industry, especially when you consider that many of the advances we now enjoy came from small companies just like Precision Airmotive.

Sure, with Experimentals you have more freedom to put what you want on your aircraft. But many of the components on experimental aircraft are certified anyway. Most of them essentially have certified engines, props, skins, wiring, brakes, tires, fasteners, etc. This liability issue affects everyone regardless of what it says on the plane’s airworthiness certificate. This sort of thing isn’t limited to aviation. But GA is particularly vulnerable to abuse because of the implication that anyone involved in it must have deep pockets. The end result is a case like this one, where a jury awarded $480 million verdict against an aircraft manufacturer even though the NTSB indicated pilot error was the cause.

Liability concerns hurt everyone in aviation, not just those with reciprocating single-engines. I’ll give you one example from the corporate and charter business that I work in: time and time again, thousands of dollars of catering from one of our charter flights will go untouched by the passengers. We’ll land at our destination with a eighty pounds of beautifully packaged and prepared food. Five-star presentation of the highest-quality and healthiest food you’ll see anywhere.

At the same time, just beyond the airport fence are people who go to bed hungry. Logic dictates that we might want to put two and two together. But because the operators and customers of these aircraft are high net worth individuals who would certainly find themselves on the receiving end of a lawsuit at the first indication of food poisoning or other malady, load after load of this food goes into the trash every single day all across the country. Over the past three years I’d imagine the total weight of the food from flights I’ve flown that went into the trash would total a couple of tons.

While lawsuits and courtrooms certainly have their place, I personally think it’s high time our society acknowledged the fact that safety does not equate an absence of risk. Failure to do so is putting us, our industry, our economy, and even our way of life at risk. That’s the cost of the society we’ve built. Is it worth it?

Backdoor Rule Making?

Wednesday, September 24th, 2014

On February 10, 2014, the Cessna Aircraft Company did something quite unprecedented in the history of piston GA: It published a revision to the service manual for cantilever-wing Cessna 210-series airplanes that added three new pages to the manual. Those three pages constituted a new section 2B to the manual, titled “Airworthiness Limitations”:

Cessna 210 Service Manual Section 2B

This section purports to impose “mandatory replacement times and inspection intervals for components and aircraft structures.” It states that the new section is “FAA-Approved” and that compliance is required by regulation.

Indeed, FARs 91.403(c) and 43.16 both state  that if a manufacturer’s maintenance manual contains an Airworthiness Limitations section (ALS), any inspection intervals and replacement times prescribed in that ALS are compulsory. FAR 91.403(c) speaks to aircraft owners:

§91.403(c) No person may operate an aircraft for which a manufacturer’s maintenance manual or instructions for continued airworthiness has been issued that contains an Airworthiness Limitations section unless the mandatory replacement times, inspection intervals, and related procedures specified in that section … have been complied with.

and FAR 43.16 speaks to mechanics:

§43.16 Each person performing an inspection or other maintenance specified in an Airworthiness Limitations section of a manufacturer’s maintenance manual or Instructions for Continued Airworthiness shall perform the inspection or other maintenance in accordance with that section…

Sounds pretty unequivocal, doesn’t it? If the maintenance manual contains an ALS, any mandatory inspection intervals and replacement times have the force of law.

The new ALS in the Cessna 210 maintenance manual mandates eddy current inspection of the wing main spar lower caps. For most 210s, an initial spar inspection is required at 8,000 hours time-in-service, with recurring inspections required every 2,000 hours thereafter. However, for 210s operated in a “severe environment” the inspections are required  at 3,500 hours and every 500 hours thereafter:

Cessna 210 inspection times

For P210s, the new ALS also imposes a life limit of 13,000 hours on the windshield, side and rear windows, and ice light lens.

What’s wrong with this picture?

To be fair, the eddy current inspection is not that big a deal.  An experienced technician can do it in a few hours. The most difficult part is that most service centers have neither the eddy current test eequipment nor a trained and certificated non-destructive testing (NDT) technician on staff. So most Cessna 210 owners will need to fly their airplane to a specialty shop  Since most airplanes will need to do this only once every 2,000 hours and since most of them fly less than 200 hours per year, one could hardly classify this recurrent eddy current inspection as Draconian. Similarly, not too many P210s are likely to reach the 13,000-hour life window life limit.

No, the issue isn’t the spar cap inspection or window life limits themselves—it’s the extraordinary method by which Cessna is attempting to make them compulsory.

Normally, if the manufacturer of an aircraft, engine or propeller wants to impose a mandatory inspection interval or a mandatory replacement or overhaul time on the owners of its aeronautical product, the manufacturer goes to the FAA and requests that an Airworthiness Directive (AD) be issued. If the FAA agrees and decides to issue an AD, it does so by means of a formal rule-making process prescribed by the federal Administrative Procedure Act (APA). Ultimately, the AD is published in the Federal Register and becomes an amendment to Part 39 of thee FARs. That’s what gives the AD its “teeth” and makes it compulsory for aircraft owners to comply with it.

§91.403(a) The owner or operator of an aircraft is primarily responsible for maintaining that aircraft in an airworthy condition, including compliance with part 39 of this chapter.

The APA governs the way that administrative agencies of the federal government (including the FAA) may propose and establish regulations. It has been called “a bill of rights” for Americans whose affairs are controlled or regulated by federal government agencies. The APA requires that before a federal agency can establish a new regulation, it must publish a notice of proposed rule making (NPRM) in the Federal Register, provide members of the public who would be impacted by the proposed regulation an opportunity to submit comments, and then take those comments seriously in making its final rule. The APA also establishes rights of appeal if a person affected by the regulation feels it is unjust or should be waived.

Because of the APA and other federal statutes, it is difficult for the FAA to issue ADs arbitrarily or capriciously. The agency first has to demonstrate that a bona fide unsafe condition exists, and that its frequency and severity of the safety risk rises to the level that makes rule making appropriate. It has to estimate the financial impact on affected owners. It has to provide a public comment period, give serious consideration to comments submitted, and respond to those comments formally when issuing its final rule.

As someone who has been heavily involved in numerous AD actions on behalf of various alphabet groups, I can tell you that the notice-and-comment provisions of the APA is extremely important, and that concerted efforts by aircraft owners and their representative industry organizations have often had great impact on the final outcome.

Through the back door?

That’s what makes Cessna’s action last February so insidious.

The addition of an Airworthiness Limitations section to the Cessna 210 maintenance manual was done without going through the rule making process. There was no NPRM and no comment period. Affected owners never had an opportunity to challenge the need for eddy current inspections of their wing spars. Cessna was never required to demonstrate that a genuine unsafe condition exists, nor weigh the cost impact against the safety benefit.Cessna 210 service manual By adding an ALS to the maintenance manual rather than ask the FAA to issue an AD, Cessna is attempting to bypass the APA-governed AD process and impose its will on aircraft owners through the back door.

Granted that the initial contents of the new ALS is not excessively burdensome. But if Cessna’s action is allowed to go unchallenged, it could set a terrible precedent. It would mean that any aircraft, engine or propeller manufacturer could retroactively impose its will on aircraft owners.

And if that happens, Katy bar the (back) door!

That’s why I’ve been working with my colleague Paul New—owner of Tennessee Aircraft Services, Inc. and honored by the FAA in 2007 as National Aviation Maintenance Technician of the Year—to challenge what Cessna is doing. On September 15th, Paul sent a letter that we jointly drafted to Mark  W. Bury (AGC-200), the FAA’s top regulations lawyer in its Office of General Counsel at FAA headquarters, asking him to issue a formal letter of interpretation as to whether compliance with the so-called mandatory inspection intervals set forth in section 2B of the Cessna 210 maintenance manual is actually required by regulation. We specifically ask Mr. Bury to rule on the question of whether retroactive enforcement of such a maintenance manual amendment by the FAA would constitute an APA violation.

The wheels of justice turn slowly at FAA Headquarters. We have been advised that AGC-200 has a four-month backlog of requests for letters of interpretation, so our request probably will not be looked at until the first quarter of 2015. But at least our request is in the queue. I am cautiously optimistic that AGC-200 will see things the way Paul and I see them, and will rule that a manufacturer’s publication of an ALS cannot be retroactively enforceable against aircraft owners unless the FAA issues an AD making it so.

A little decorum can go a long way

Thursday, September 18th, 2014

It may not surprise you to know that I spend a good deal of time using social media each day. It’s a tool. Think of it as a digital Leatherman, or a Swiss army knife that thrives on the binary system. But like any tool, social media can be used for good, or it can create a lot of damage. It’s the user’s choice.

Because I’ve been fortunate enough to have a remarkably interesting life (at least from my perspective) that has allowed me to be a musician in Greenwich Village, a pilot in Florida, a political office holder, and even a novelist, I am connected to a tremendously varied group of people via social media. Some are musicians, but most are not. Some are actors, or writers, or pilots, but that’s not the mainstream of my social media network any more than it is the mainstream of American life. Yet this disparate group of individuals have all come together through the Internet to lurk, or comment, or make plans because we all have at least one thing in common. One thing that binds us together, gives us a sense of connection and maybe even an impression of a common purpose.

Last night, quite late, one of those connections threw their last straw onto an already strained camel’s back. They crossed the line. As a result, I unfriended someone on Facebook. This is perhaps only the second time I’ve done that. The first was because someone I had never met, but had a professional connection to, became abusive and argumentative with other friends who took a position that differed from their own. This second instance was similar. Being abusively arrogant is not attractive, not in any realm.

The world is a wonderful, weird, and thoroughly engaging place. It is made no less amazing by the fact that none of us, and I mean absolutely none of us agree on everything. In fact, a case could be made that it is our diversity of thought that makes life so fascinating. Yet there are those who cannot tolerate a difference of opinion. They cannot allow someone else, even if it is someone they know nothing about, to voice a perspective that differs from their own. No, when presented with such a circumstance they empower themselves with the responsibility of judging the rest of us, convicting us of thought crimes, and punishing us by blathering away incessantly about how wrong we are.

To be honest, I could live with that. I don’t like it, but I could live with it. But then a small number of these types step across that line in the sand and transition from being judgmental bullies into truly mean spirited soldiers of righteousness. It’s not enough to let the world know they disagree with someone else. No. They have to try to ruin the opposition’s life. They hurl insults. They question motives. They pull out all the stops to make it clear to all who might read a given post, that the person who disagrees is evil, vicious, stupid, racist, ignorant, malicious, and possibly even dangerous.

That’s where my button gets pushed. But as in life, I have learned there is a truth in social media. You can unplug. There is no rule that says you must engage these people. You can simply stop reading their posts, stop replying to their taunts, and even close the door to them lurking into your life. On Facebook at least, you can unFriend them.

This matters to the aviation community for reasons that should be obvious, but apparently aren’t. We are a large, diverse group of people. Yet we account for only a small fraction of the larger population. We are largely misunderstood and to some degree, distrusted. That’s unfortunate, but it is true.

As with any large group, we disagree on many points, which is healthy. However, the method of disagreement is important. We each, like it or not, represent the aviation community in some way. Perhaps our thoughts and impressions are noted by only a dozen or so family and friends. Others entertain or enrage thousands, even tens of thousands with ideas, commentary, and visions of what is, or what might be. It is incumbent upon us, all of us, to welcome those differing ideas, even if they fly in the face of our own beliefs. We can discuss ideas. We can share opposing views. But we should not go to battle with each other. After all, each of us at some point has realized that we are occasionally wrong. Sometimes we’re right, sometimes we’re wrong, and sometimes the topic is too subjective to be able to establish right and wrong.

I will concede that it is at least possible that you, the reader, is the owner of the most powerful, insightful, and creative brain to have ever been produced by human kind. And yet, that does not excuse you (or me) from the basic rules of social grace. Be polite. Even in disagreement, show respect for the other party or parties you are engaged with. In the long run, we are much more respected for our willingness to politely entertain a boor, than we would ever be for our efforts to silence or squash them.

The social network has long arms. They wrap all the way around the world. What you put there will come back to you one day as a representation of what kind of a person you are. Do your best. Accept that all of us err from time to time. But try not to be mean spirited. That’s unbecoming. It’s generally counter-productive, too. And that is a true statement no matter what business you’re in, regardless of what the topic of conversation might be.