One notoriously unhelpful mantra within the aviation safety world is, “avoid becoming distracted”. This guidance is useless because it contradicts a core pilot responsibility. We are expected to accurately detect and identify the source of every distraction and respond quickly and skillfully while maintaining a smooth flight profile and precise flightpath management. Moreover, some of the most consequential distractions demand our immediate attention. Notable examples are warning lights, fire alarms, and audible directives from systems like the collision avoidance system (TCAS). A more accurate directive would be “accurately identify and skillfully respond to all distractions while maintaining a safe flight profile and preserving situational awareness.” Granted, this doesn’t fit neatly on a safety poster.
While we are immersed in the operational flow of flying, we encounter each distraction as it happens. After we detect it, we choose either to ignore it or to respond to it. We need to decide whether that event is a trivial blip with minimal effect on our operational flow or whether it is something that has disrupted our operational flow. There isn’t a clear line between these two situations. The more deeply we study distractions, the more we understand how they affect us. In my book, Master Airline Pilot, I present the following range of “bird encounter” distraction events while flying down short final. They range from fleeting distractions that we immediately dismiss to persisting distractions that demand our full attention.
Case 1: We see the bird and watch it as it zips by. We don’t hear an impact, so we conclude that we successfully missed it. Most of us would conclude that this is, at most, a very minor distraction. If we don’t hit the bird and maintain a stabilized approach down final, we would treat it as an inconsequential event. We saw the bird, we missed it, and we maintained our attention on flying the aircraft.
Case 2: We only detect the bird at the last instant. It startles us and we reflexively move the aircraft to avoid it. Not hearing an impact, we conclude that we probably missed it. Since we altered our flightpath when startled, we return our attention to flying, restore our flightpath, and continue down final, albeit a bit shaken. We would categorize this as a strong, momentary distraction. It diverts our attention from flying for a few moments, but we maintain our operational flow and continue down final without further disruption.
Case 3: We see the bird at the last moment. Before we can react, it impacts somewhere behind us on the fuselage. This becomes a much stronger, startling, distraction event. Recovering from the startle, we check our engine instruments to ensure that they appear normal. We sample the cabin air for the odor of burnt bird. For a longer time period, our attention is diverted from flying. Our monitoring of the operational flow is disrupted. After recovering, we would look for cues that could provide context for where to rejoin the operational flow. We would also weigh whether to continue the approach or to go around to assess any operational consequences from the birdstrike.
Case 4: We see the bird at the last moment. It impacts on the radome with a loud bang. Bird parts spread across our windscreen and obscure our forward visibility. One of the wings lodges under our wiper blade and continues flapping wildly. This would undoubtedly qualify as a significantly distracting event. Unless we recover and assess quickly, we would favor going around to regain our composure, analyze the damage, rebuild our SA, and return for another approach.
These four cases span the range from inconsequential to very distracting. The most important consideration is how they affect our operational flow – the sequence of planned tasks and events that we expect to occur down final. Consider the particular task of completing Before Landing Checklist. If the bird encounter happened near the point in the operational flow where we planned to complete the checklist, the distraction might cause us to miss it. In Cases 3 and 4, we should recognize that the birdstrike has probably distracted us and that we might have missed doing something. We would look for cues about possibly missed tasks. We would either clearly recall completing the checklist or feel unsure whether we had completed it. If we have any doubt, the prudent choice is to run the checklist, even if it results in running it twice.
If we don’t have an awareness while flying in-the-moment that the birdstrike has distracted us, we might just try to rejoin our operational flow based on our current position on final approach. If that position is past our usual checklist completion point, we might miss performing it. The critical difference is recognizing that we were distracted and deliberately investigating what we might have missed during the lost time. Examining this range of distractions, we summarize that they affect three parameters.
- Intensity or severity: How much of our attention was diverted by the distraction?
- Duration: How long did the distraction last?
- Operational flow disruption: How different is our current position from where we were before the distraction?
We may need to assess these parameters very quickly. If we decide that the event is fully understood, processed, and recovered, we can safely continue. If not, we need to assess how much time we have available. If time is short, we should consider making extra time to process the event (go around), settle down (physically recover from the startle), and fly another approach.
There isn’t a clear distinction between distractions that prove consequential and those that aren’t. They feel similar as we experience them while flying in-the-moment. They both feel like flying the aircraft, dealing with events as they come up, and keeping our game plan on track. We only recognize the differences in hindsight. Our challenge is to learn how to translate hindsight clarity into skills that actively improve our present-moment awareness. We refine this skill by analyzing our encounters with distracting events and recognizing our personal biases, strengths, and weaknesses. We begin by constructing two stories comparing how we expected the flight to flow (our game plan) with what actually happened because of the distraction. Holding these two stories side-by-side, we run the timeline back and note the onset of the distraction and our reactions to it. Next, we identify the indications that were present. They may not have registered as important at the time. Maybe they felt unimportant. Maybe they felt like minor anomalies obscured by the background noise of everything else that happens while flying. Maybe we missed them entirely. We assess whether a startle effect drew our attention away from normal flightpath monitoring. We also assess personal and crew factors. Were we too relaxed or tired? Were we engaging in discretionary activities? Were we inappropriately diverting our attention? By comparing the two stories, we discover ways to realign our practice to respond more skillfully in the future. We identify monitoring techniques that would have accurately detected all of the adverse effects. We recognize decisions that would have aided our recovery. Each time we perform this kind of personal debrief analysis, we improve how skillfully we will process future distracting events.
Compare the differences between three bird encounter events – missing the bird, maneuvering to avoid it, and hitting it. Imagine how each one would feel, where we would focus our attention, and how we would manage our flying. If we see and miss the bird, we might register the event subtly while easily maintaining our flightpath. We wouldn’t lose focus. Our operational flow would remain intact. For the second bird encounter where we maneuver to avoid it, we might need to divert a significant portion of our attention to recovering from startle and maneuvering the aircraft. In this encounter, the bird distracts us, but we would still remain sufficiently connected to the operational flow. For the third encounter, the bird splatting against our windscreen might completely grab our attention. This distraction would divert our attention away from the operational flow of flying the aircraft. The greater the severity of the distracting event, the more our attention becomes diverted away from holding a stabilized final approach path. As we improve our awareness of how we personally respond to each of these encounters, we continue refining our awareness management skills. When a similar event happens to us in the future, we wouldn’t experience as much startle and disruption. We’ll engage it more mindfully.
Event duration is a measure of how long the distraction diverts our attention away from the operational flow. Imagine a scenario where we pass one bird while on final approach, followed immediately by another, and then another. Each time, we successfully avoid each bird, but the succession of distractions keeps our attention diverted from the actively managing the operational flow. With each encounter, we attempt to recover, but another distraction immediately arises. We struggle to fully return our attention back to flying the approach. Now, imagine that during this series of bird distractions, an aircraft incurs onto our landing runway. At what point would our SA become so deflated that we might miss this new threat? The duration of a distraction or a chain of distractions might affect our ability to restore our attention back to flying. When successive distractions prevent us from fully returning our attention to the operational flow, we should consider exiting the game plan (like going around) and resetting the operational flow.
As we study our personal experiences with distractions, we may notice trends. Perhaps we discover that we tend to respond differently when we are tired or relaxed. Perhaps we lower our vigilance during the last leg of our pairing back to our home base. Perhaps we discover that events from our home life adversely affect our ability to remain focused. Perhaps we notice that we respond differently when paired with particular types of pilots. For example, I discovered that when I was flying with a particularly competent FO, I would subconsciously lower my level of vigilance. Because they were so good at detecting and mitigating any errors, I allowed myself to relax into my comfort zone. I subconsciously lowered my level of vigilance because they raised theirs. Looking deeper, I recognized that the opposite also occurred. I would raise my level of vigilance when flying with an inexperienced or especially lax FO. Aware of my personal biases, I learned to monitor my attention level more appropriately. The more we learn about ourselves, the more accurately we can improve our resilience against distractions. Sensing that we are tired signals us to increase our vigilance. Noticing that we perform better during daytime encourages us to bid for early schedules. Noticing that we are less alert during early morning flights encourages us to bid for later schedules. We should also monitor how we change as we age. We are constantly changing individuals, so we need to continuously reassess ourselves.
