Applying the label complacency is common across the fields of aviation psychology and human factors. The term distorts our perspective so that we tend to recognize it in any incident when operators fail to act effectively to stop a mishap’s trajectory. It feels very useful because it seamlessly connects an undesirable outcome with a cause – that the operator’s complacency led them to miss a warning sign that they should have seen, to miscomprehend a sign that they did see, to miss making a decision they should have made, or to fail to perform actions they should have taken. Complacency also exaggerates the gap between what we accept as acceptable performance standards and the “substandard behaviors” that they apparently demonstrated. It fits deductive “if/then” logic. If the crew hadn’t been complacent, then they would have detected the deteriorating conditions, recovered to a more favorable trajectory, and avoided the mishap. Finally, the term provides wholeness to justify an event. It allows us to hold the complacent operators completely and exclusively responsible for the mishap, even though simplistic environments never exist within complex systems.
As our use of the label complacency has spread, it has neither advanced our understanding of mishap evolution nor furthered our progress toward aviation safety. This is because it relies on the flawed bad apple theory – that these particular operators (bad apples) are fundamentally flawed and that their removal or rehabilitation will eliminate both the cause and undesired outcome from reoccurring. This is rarely the case. Also, the complacency label implies a level of carelessness to the operators’ motivations and decision making. In over 20 years of incident and mishap investigation, I have never encountered a pilot who felt careless about their flying, their profession, or their commitment to safe operations. The label of complacency did not fit their mindsets or actions. In the end, investigators simply apply the term because they find it convenient, familiar, and uncomplicated, not because it accurately describes the cause or evolution of the mishap.
Assuming that we significantly reduce our use of complacency, we need to apply suitable replacements. As we look deeply into the underlying causes of mishap events that we currently label as arising from complacent behaviors, we find the common factor of attention level. This is especially evident with experienced, proficient operators. I addressed this effect in a past discussion topic (Topic 23-8 on the Master Pilot Forum) and in my book, Master Airline Pilot: Applying Human Factors to Achieve Peak Performance and Operational Resilience. As proficient pilots become more comfortable and familiar with performing their tasks, they don’t feel the need to apply as much attention. The task doesn’t feel difficult, so it doesn’t require as much mental focus. Over time, the level of attention devoted toward completing familiar tasks drops. Resting snuggly in their comfort zone, repetitive tasks become automated. Manual tasks are performed through muscle memory. Cognitive tasks apply well-worn, reliable game plans. A mismatch develops between the attention that the operator feels that they need to complete a task and the attention level that is appropriate for that task. As an aviation example, imagine a highly proficient pilot that repeatedly gazes out their side window while flying down short final. Imagine a monitoring pilot who does the same while the pilot flying lands the aircraft. While both of these examples indicate low attention focus, they don’t necessarily show complacency. Anecdotal evidence seems to indicate that high proficiency and a long history of successful flying tend to increase the mismatch in attention level. Laxity doesn’t cause failure. Instead, it promotes a latent vulnerability that lingers unseen below the surface. Everything works out fine, flight after flight, year after year – until one day, it doesn’t.
We need terms to classify the mishap events that emerge when an operator applies an inappropriately low level of attention to the task at hand. These new terms shouldn’t imply negative motivations like unconcern, neglect, negligence, carelessness, or sloppiness. They should focus only on the attention gap. I suggest using laxity or laxness because they accurately describe how the operator has relaxed their attention focus below what is appropriate for a particular task or operating environment. Laxity accurately describes how highly experienced, proficient operators can lower their guard and become surprised by unexpected situations. It explains how an operator can fail to notice a deteriorating situation’s warning signs as quickly as they could and how they might experience a prolonged startle effect that inhibits timely recovery from distraction. Once they become confused and startled, they succumb to task overload, tunneled attention, and plan continuation bias. Forcibly ejected from their comfort zones, familiar habits and game plans vanish. Their situational awareness instantly changes from familiar and comfortable to chaotic and unpleasant. These effects emerge when the operator is lax, but do not indicate that they have been complacent.
Using the realigned perspective that the term laxity provides, we reorient our analysis toward recognizing the mismatch between the appropriate attention level that the task requires and the reduced level employed by the mishap operator. Additionally, we structure our teaching to help operators align their attention level with the task phase and environment, not by their perception of the task’s ease or difficulty. This emphasis will help counteract the depressive effects of familiarity and comfort zone. Even for highly proficient operators, every final approach becomes a high attention level task, regardless of how proficient they are or how easy the environment happens to be.
