Thanks for the logs. Wood's still damp, might need some JP4 as well.
Although I lived in Washington DC for three years, I've never been
shot at. I have had an engine quit at 150 feet and pulled of a hairy
forced landing. But that was all over too quickly to make much of it -
other than a case for rote-learned emergency checks. One night, in
cloud, my being instantly surrounded by brilliant, flickering,
orange-red glow confirmed what the fire warning light was telling me.
The apprehension phase lasted a little longer, that time. After a
really-close-near-mid-air, head-on, supersonic, the other pilot went
straight to the showers after landing, signing off the jet later. We
used to fly 1.5 hour low-level radar navigation missions, manually,
single-pilot, using raw radar returns, at 500ft AGL, in valleys, well
below safety height, at night. And so on, the usual stuff.
So I thought I had a fair grasp of the subject. Until I did an
accident-with-a-difference investigation. It appeared that the pilot
may have suffered what I have since called 'cognitive collapse'. The
full story, and my theoretical musings on the phenomenon, are in my
book. Suffice to say for now, I then and there determined to check out
my own vulnerability to cognitive collapse, through a parachute jump.
Now I don't know if what I felt as I stepped out of the aircraft (it
was gross!) is anything like anyone else's experience over downtown
Baghdad, or from another form of apprehension-inducing stimulus.
However, I was content that I had learned something important about
myself, something vital to my performance in flight. More, I had also
learned, in principle, ways of both self-assessing anxiety responses,
and, by working on them, to reduce the vulnerability factor. Thus
began my continuing practice of 'cognitive exercises'.
The parachute jump provided me with both a clinching argument, and the
motivation to begin and persist with what is a most uncomfortable
adjunct to my lifestyle. (My actual default setting is hedonism.) It
was the observation that, of the jumpers, all of whom were trained
warfighters of one form or another, more than half collapsed at the
exit point. They fainted, I presume, from 'anxiety overload', that is,
they experienced cognitive collapse. (The jump instructors later told
me that was pretty SOP for volunteer 'oncers'.)
So I guess it is all kinda personal, isn't it? I'm not looking for any
international standard. I just want to know how I'll be able to
perform. I think every pilot should. Listen to the CVR from the
Pittsburgh 737. Read the transcript from the 'Cali' 757. Form a view
on the mental state of the pilots therein. What I don't like is when
pilots say, 'I'm pretty sure I'll be able to cope when the time
comes,' knowing that, statistically, they'll most likely never be
tested. We know that simulators don't do it, not for experienced
aviators. But there are things you can do. You can, safely (and
legally) get people close enough to being 'scared out of their wits',
for it to be meaningful training and sensible preparation for flying
duties. The stuff costs nothing, and consumes only 'downtime'.
Thanks for your logs, Charlie, we might get this thing going yet! My
use of 'anxiety' rather than the more formal term may be just an
idiosyncratic usage of English. I agree completely with your point,
though would take it a little further. Like you, I know that most
people can achieved greater-than-natural mastery over activation of
autonomous responses, through practice. For example, if I knock a
bottle off the table, my reflexes cause me to catch it before it hits
the floor. If it's a sharp knife, I won't grab for it at all. (It'd
have to be a bottle of wine, of course. I'd let water or milk go.) As
you say, training will make us more mentally resilient.
Jo-Anne, I agree. We can't know (though there're are some tests and
personality profiling systems that'll get us close) how people will
perform. What I push for is for the individual to be aware of his or
her own patterns. They can do it quite easily. Knowing their 'stress
responses' will assist in many ways, such as in the learning-to-fly
process, in co-operating as a crew member, acting as leader, etc.
Cheers
Doug
Afterthought. I do cop a lot of flak from peddling my stuff amongst
hard-bitten Australian male pilots. It's like I'm selling the cancer,
not the cure. Curiously, of the ones who come out most strongly
against (and it's rare for any to do so, most just 'run deep and
silent'), none has actually tried any of the exercises from the book.