The correlation between complexity and margin of error applies to families and organizations, not just airplanes and ATC systems. The bigger the family or organization, the smaller the margin of error. The faster your life or organization moves, the further ahead you have to look and the more physically and mentally prepared you have to be.
During my initial airline training, after weeks of studying systems and procedures, it was time for my first check ride to achieve the coveted type rating. Like most aviation lessons, the more I reflect and apply them, the more they make me a better pilot, a better husband, a better father, and an all-around better man.
Like most commercial airline check rides, I took mine in a full-motion simulator. My sim-partner was a retired captain named Lee. It seemed that Lee had flown just about every type of plane in all sorts of weather, and most of it before the invention of GPS. A critical part of the check ride was demonstrating the ability to handle an engine failure following takeoff at low altitude (one of the most dangerous times to have an engine failure). I knew it was coming, but I didn’t know when. I was anxious. The margin for error was small, and so much was riding the success of this simulator flight: weeks of training, weeks of being gone from home, a desire to start flying the line and see the fulfillment of a goal.
I don’t remember exactly when during the check ride it happened, but as we rotated off the runway into the clouds, bells started ringing; lights were flashing, and my heart was pounding. My right engine was on fire. I had memorized this procedure. I knew what to do and what to say. My first task was to announce the engine failure, place my hand on the associated thrust lever and ask my co-pilot to verify I had the correct thrust lever. I was supposed to say, “Right engine thrust lever, verify” but what came out was more like “rightenginethrustleververify.” The words tumbled from my mouth faster than I ever thought possible.
And there it was, aviation mimicking life. As responsibilities, mortgages and families grow, so does the stress level. Life moves at a pace that is blisteringly fast; there seems to be no way out, no redo on some of life’s most important decisions. Life happens, something hits the proverbial (turbo) fan, and we find ourselves having to navigate an ever-changing situation successfully with innocent people relying on us.
In the moments that followed, Lee would teach me about airplanes, emergencies, life and parenting. With what seemed like sloth-like speed, he turned toward me, looked down at the thrust levers and looked at me again. Then, in a measured southern drawl, he gave the response I was expecting: “Right engine thrust lever! !verified.”